This
is a rather “heady” topic. But some of us talk about this all
the time. We are blessed with people who can not only talk about
it, they do it professionally! Abraham Lincoln reportedly said
that what is taught in the universities in one generation is what
the people believe in the next. I would say that this generation
bears that out. But it is not just the universities that taught
us, it was all the other big institutions, especially the visual
media like TV and film.
Although
the idea of a “worldview” has not been common throughout history, there is no doubt that
the people who wrote the scripture had a way of seeing everything
and their ancestors follow in their steps.
Around here, we have a sense that our dialogue will help
us to keep developing a way of looking at the world and responding
to our era as the Holy Spirit continues to lead us through it.
Here
is one way the Bible reveals how to see things:
Colossians
2:6-12
So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue
to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the
faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. See
to it that no one takes you
captive through
hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition
and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ.
For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily
form, and you have been given fullness in Christ, who is the head
over every power and authority.
In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of
the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of
men but with the circumcision done by Christ,
having been buried with him in baptism and raised with
him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from
the dead.
Here’s
a way the Bible reveals how to respond:
2
Corinthians 10:4-5 The
weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the
contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish
arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the
knowledge of God, and we take captive every
thought to make it obedient to Christ.
The
transformation we have received obviously puts us into some challenging
relationships with people. Mary will help us sort them out. Ben
and Rod tell us stories about their experiences with the
process. And Chris helps us understand how to think it all through.
—
Ed.
Ecumenicism(s)
The
term “worldview” is full of complexities that make students of
religion like myself squirm with delight. How should we go about
examining the interplay between differing religions? How should
we regard those whose religious lives differ dramatically from
ours? Many people who consider these issues often find themselves
caught between two inaccurate characterizations of human religious
life. The first tendency
is towards an oversimplified universalism, or the belief that
all religions share essentially the same goals and outcomes beneath
apparent cultural differences.
In other words, it is the belief that “all roads lead to
Rome,” though each road has its different markers and landscapes
along the way. Others
are inclined towards an irresolvable pluralism; that is, the view
that religion is essentially an expression of culture and language,
and since there is a vast array of human culture and language,
there is also a variety of religions that are relatively equal
in value, though separate and different.
Extreme pluralism would hold that we are so separate and
different from one another that no true commonalities (other than
biological) between human beings of different backgrounds can
ever be identified.
Even
though neither of these common approaches seems to adequately
portray the actual situation, we often find ourselves living out
one or both of these myths in the practical realm. As evangelically-inclined
Christians, we tend to reject total universalism since it obscures
the reality of God and Christ.
In popular culture, there is often the sentiment that “all
religions are basically the same.” However, the motive behind
such a statement often does not convey a true appreciation for
religion as a worthwhile pursuit, but is rather an expression
of the apparent irrelevance of the religious life. True, there are those who genuinely believe in a completely
“smorgasbord” approach, usually blandly called “spirituality,”
but even these seemingly open approaches are undergirded by an
exclusivity that depends solely on the individual, leaving out
community consensus. The result of this type of universalism seems to be the belief
that most established religious traditions are motionless museum
pieces that sit around and collect dust while the rest of the
world moves along with better things to do.
We Christians have our own method of combating this particular
accusation: “It’s not a religion, it’s a relationship.”
It seems, however, that we have both, and we lose out by
denying one or the other for the sake of apologetics.
Our religion finds its roots in our relationship with Christ;
indeed, the religious life is worship, which leaves no aspect
of our lives uninvolved.
Religion
is not an enshrined curio or an attractive performance; it defines
us as people. Human
beings are fundamentally religious creatures, meaning that we
are worshipping creatures; it’s what we do, whether or not we
are aware of it. This statement has its roots in several centuries
of Christian tradition. For many of our most influential church
theologians, ranging back at least as far as St. Augustine, the
question has not been whether
we should be religious, but how to be rightly
religious since our worship shows the orientation of our beings.
The specific instructions regarding how to be rightly oriented
are not engraved on special plaques in each religion’s historical
society. All religion changes, all of the time, and “new” ways
of being religious are constantly being birthed.
This
is not to say that our ways of being religious are fundamentally
different from those who have called themselves Christians in
times past. Pragmatically,
this simply cannot be true.
We are all human beings, and as such, we share the common
struggles and profundities of human experience.
Moreover, as Christians, we believe in an active God who
reveals His same nature to peoples of all times and places.
What is different, but not incomparably so, are the activities
and environs in which Christians have found themselves engaged.
If you think about how different the lives of fellow believers
in ancient times are from ourselves and from one another (e.g.,
Ireland, medieval Europe, North Africa, India), it’s no wonder
that we have such a historical potpourri.
(This is not to say, however, that difference precludes
any critical look at past behavior and choices.) The environs
themselves do not lose their attachment to meaning because they
do not match. For
example, when was the last time you felt tempted to sacrifice
an animal to an idol? We
can talk about the principles behind this example and see the
Spirit at work.
I
suppose what I’m advocating in this regard is not total universalism,
but a type of Christian universalism that is more like ecumenicism.
Ecumenicism not only expresses a willingness to acknowledge
our differences, but also the desire to realize and build upon
our commonness. For North Americans this is particularly crucial,
since we live in a world where the majority of believers now live
in the Southern hemisphere, in places and conditions much different
from our own. It is also important here, in our city and our nation,
to be able to unite in Christ, the heart of our faith, who provides
an anchor and a glue for a fragmenting society that is obsessed
with individualism and blind to any stable connecting point. Christian
religion must simultaneously center around the person of Jesus,
and also recognize the perpetual insufficiency of one’s religious
activity and worldview.
Given the wealth of connecting points between a creatively
endowed humanity and an infinitely creative God, the possibilities
can vary immensely, at least on a superficial level.
Hence the need for a “body” of Christ, beyond our individual
persons, beyond our local communities, beyond denominational loyalties,
beyond North American evangelicalism, extending to all believers
past and present.
How
we regard ourselves in relation to those who do not consider themselves
to be Christians is also extremely important.
As an approach this question, I would strongly encourage
a spirit of human ecumenicism.
Once again, it seems prudent to avoid the application of
the two aforementioned viewpoints: one that sees Christianity
as completely and utterly distinct from other religious expressions,
and one that sees no difference at all. It has often been our
tendency to overlook the actual human beings who embody any two
“worlds” we treat as completely separate.
One of the strengths of “postmodern” thinking is that it
questions the lines we Westerners have rigidly and unnaturally
drawn around such things as “worldviews.” In other words, it allows us to think beyond stereotypes of
nationality, social class, and yes, religion. It helps us to avoid
making incorrect and hurtful assumptions about persons simply
based on perceived difference that often seem to stem from textbook
definitions of who others are “supposed” to be.
It forces us to “go deeper” and see people as human beings
like ourselves rather than some exotic set of unfamiliar criteria.
Postmodern social theorists like to say that this “other”
status we put on…well…others, is a natural barrier to peace since
we refuse to acknowledge a very real relationship, or reference
point, that we all share.
I
can think of no better way to illustrate this fact, than to point
out elements from non-Christian religious practices that have
been absorbed by Christians who live in the midst of nonbelievers.
The late Ni Duosheng (or “Watchman Nee”) is a wonderful human
example of this type of creativity since much of his writing exhibits
an amazingly beautiful fusion of Chinese philosophy and Anabaptist
theology. The result
is not always comfortable for Westerners (probably due to our
own theological dalliances with non-Christian philosophies), but
today his followers comprise one of the largest networks of Protestant
house churches in China and North America. Nevertheless, lest
we assume that we are not affected, consider this example: the
very profound “centering prayers,” practiced by medieval as well
as contemporary Western Christians, probably owe a good part of
their origins to Indian meditation techniques developed by various
schools of Hinduism and Buddhism. Again, this does not mean, as
conventional wisdom would have it, that all religions and religious
practices are the same.
It does, however, seem to indicate that we might even share
something “religious” with non-Christians. If the old Christian
writers are correct, we all have in common religious, or worshipping,
tendencies, even though these tendencies orient themselves in
different and more or less beneficial ways.
As
peacemakers, we cannot afford to separate ourselves so much on
a mistaken assumption that we do not share anything with those
who are unfamiliar to us.
This is not a time to isolate ourselves, but to find our
common ground in our humanity.
We can literally see the very violent and damaging wind
of racism and ethnocentrism in the world, and it behooves us to
seek understanding rather than wholesale condemnation since the
practical pluralism of American life is inescapable.
Moreover, it is advantageous, if not vital, for us to cooperate
with those who have similar peacemaking aims, even if they are
not Christians. Although
the reasons may differ, there are strong currents for social justice
among people who are as dissimilar religiously as Buddhists and
Muslims. Therefore, in this time and place, the ideal worldview
is contained in the word: world-view. To see the whole world, to see each other, as the Lord does,
is to understand his love for the world and the common existence
of human life. This
is true religion, and we must constantly humble ourselves to worship
thusly.
Mary
Ward-Bucher
Jesus,
History or Myth?
This
last spring I struggled through a class on Christian origins at
the University of Pennsylvania. This class was based on the presumption
that faith is not necessarily connected to "real" history.
In other words, to truly talk about the historical Jesus, you
must not let notions of faith govern your understanding of who
Jesus was. According to this school of thought the New Testament
accounts of Jesus must be understood as being a type of ancient
myth, which may or may not be true. It is my conviction that this approach to Scripture
as myth does extreme disservice to its standing as a divinely
authored historical document, and eliminates its demands for faith.
Read
on its own terms, the Scripture demands an account of history
that can be trusted as God's Word. For Christians, and the rest
of the world, the ontological significance of the cross rests
upon the belief that the Gospel accounts are true. Our
salvation and place in the kingdom of God rests in the belief
that in real history Jesus did, in fact, usher in the renewed
Kingdom of God, He really did eat with sinners, heal the sick,
and ultimately take our punishment upon Himself so that we may
be part of His renewed family and work.
There
is great importance in approaching Scripture on its own terms,
as a faith document. The Scripture demands that you either believe
or reject its account of history, and God's working within it.
This approach runs counter to the humanistic false hope of establishing
a true and objective account of history that is separated from
the responsibility to submit in faith to the living God. This
living God is still acting within our own time! He listens to
our prayers, and speaks to us through His holy Word, the Bible.
The
act of study, then, becomes an act of worship. In the preface
of his book, "The Challenge of Jesus", N.T. Wright says,
"Just as integrity demands that we think clearly and rigorously
about Jesus himself, so it also demands that we think clearly
and rigorously about the world in which we follow him today, the
world we are called to shape with the loving, transforming message
of the Gospel." When the Holy Scriptures are believed, the
historical quest to understand who Jesus was transforms into something
much greater. It teaches us not only who Jesus was, but who He
is, and how He affects our lives today.
Ben
Volta
Campfires,
Presbyterians, Augustinians, and Worldviews
Sitting
around a late night Indiana campfire with some old college friends
recently, I had occasion to hear these words escape the mouth
of a doggedly Presbyterian friend: “I’m more Augustinian than
I am modern or postmodern.” The comment came in the context of
a discussion of a book that suggested ways in which Christians
might constructively engage contemporary culture. What my friend
was saying was basically this: My faith stands beyond culture
and worldview. As a follower of Jesus, I’m able to transcend any
intellectual and ideological allegiances my time and place throw
at me. The particular school of theology to which he aligned himself
was irrelevant. He might as well have said, “I’m more Anabaptist
than I am . . .” or “I’m more Wesleyan than I am . . .”
What,
exactly, is a worldview?
As Christians, is it possible to transcend the perspectives of
our contemporaries? Do Christians of the 21st century
think in the same ways, use the same mental and social categories
as their cohorts in the 2nd or 1st centuries?
First
things first. What, exactly, is a worldview?
In
his 1976 book, The Universe
Next Door, James W. Sire defines a worldview as “a set of
ideas composed of a number of basic presuppositions, more or less
consistent with each other, more or less consciously held, more
or less true.” Worldviews, he says, “are generally unquestioned
by those who hold them . . . and only brought to mind when challenged
by someone from another ideological universe.”
Sire
says that the collective answers to seven key questions make up
any worldview:
-
What
is prime reality—the really real?
-
What
is the nature of external reality, that is, the world around
us?
-
What
is a human being?
-
What
happens to a person at death?
-
Why
is it possible to know anything at all?
-
How
do we know what is right and wrong?
-
What
is the meaning of human history?
There
is nearly unanimous agreement among social observers that we stand
today at a juncture between 2 distinct worldviews. On one hand,
there is modernity — a worldview with its roots in the secular
Enlightenment and the Industrial Revolution — and on the other
hand, there is post-modernity — a perspective rooted in non-mechanistic
post-Einsteinian theories of relativity and hyper-modern forms
of communication technology.
In
many respects, the two visions of the world share much in common:
both are rooted in a dogged materialism. Neither is optimistic
about life after death, viewing such hope as a counter-productive
escape from oppressive social and material conditions or as private
psychological solace in a publicly cruel world. For both perspectives,
“meaning” in human history remains illusory at best. And in their
pure forms, both stand against the idea of God, or even of transcendence.
Christians
grappling with the significance of this shift in ideology and
culture have taken one of two approaches. One approach, exemplified
by David Wells’ No Place
for Truth (or Whatever Happened to Evangelical Theology) and
God in the Wasteland,
has tended to encourage followers of Jesus to retreat to a pre-modern,
neo-medieval re-affirmation of a creed-based Christian theology.
Others, such as Brian McLaren (author of A
New Kind of Christian and The
Story We Find Ourselves In), have embraced the death of modernity
and notions of abstract truth, encouraging Christians to see the
rise of post-modernity as an opportunity to assert the narrative-based
community of faith, separated from the intellectually arrogant
foibles of modernity that too easily seduced the Church.
What
to make of such perspectives? Can college-educated, middle-class
Westerners claim to be “more Augustinian” than they are modern
(or post-modern, for that matter)? Hardly. Our faith is always
contextualized by the culture we live in. Our challenge as Christians
is not to yearn for some Christian-compatible intellectual glory
days of yesteryear. Instead, we are called to live out our faith
in our time and place, discerning where our Christian worldview
resonates with —and resists—the spirit of the age.
Chris
Hickey
Reacting
to the Reactive
I
had the pleasure of being asked to participate in the Roxbury
Holiness Camp meeting on Missions Day this week. As I drove from
Philadelphia through Harrisburg to the camp, I truly enjoyed reacquainting
myself with the part of PA in which I used to serve. Once at camp,
I also reacquainted myself with many of the people with whom I
served. It was like a homecoming, in a way. I was tempted to drop
the “g” on my gerunds, start saying “y’all” and begin mixing “left”
and “leave” again. Once reacquainted and speaking the vernacular,
I experienced comments on my haircut, my clothes and my ways that
reminded me that I could be identified as an outsider (though
fondly). Being seen as an intriguing visitor was something more
I began to remember as part of my Central PA sojourn. So I had
some good feelings of settling into a
culture and the world view that goes with it and some uncomfortable
feelings about being on the outside of one.
I was on the docket as a “missionary” in “the city,” which also
reminded me that I may as well have been serving in a foreign
country as far as many of those attending were concerned.
Many in the denomination, which has been in PA since the
1780’s, still see “the city” as a dark, foreign place! Thank God
the woman who was interviewing me in front of the crowd of over
500 (Grace Holland, who was a part of the work team that painted
the ball room in the Northwest) had the grace to say, “You know,
we will all spend eternity in the city. The Bible begins in a
garden, but it all ends in a city.”
From my vantage point the whole scene felt rather warm, if a little
retro. I felt loved, if odd. But I am still flabbergasted when
my whole denomination seems to see “us” as having a “foreign”
mission to the city! After all, I have been one of “us” for 20
years and came from a Los Angeles suburb four times the size of
Harrisburg! Technically, we are very cosmopolitan, but the old
worldview holds sway.
Others
in this issue of the Dialogue
have tried to explain a little about what “worldview” might mean
and why it might be important to scrutinize one’s own and the
view that runs our church. I want to briefly exemplify how to
form one by acting out my own process. And I want to do that by
complaining about how others teach Christians to form one.
While
I was driving, I also had the time to tune into two variant forms
of radio that I hardly ever hear: country and Christian. The country
station had a couple of tear-jerking songs that hit me so hard
I almost pulled over and had a good cry on the Turnpike. At the
same time they had a song about defending the war in Iraq asking.
“Have you forgot-en Osama bin Lad-en?”
The
Christian radio was more disturbing. I couldn’t listen too long
because the bad guilt, anger and fear began to rise in me. The
country folk were gentler than the Christian folk. The Christians
seemed mad at everyone and “loaded for bear,” as we say back home.
Homosexuals, terrorists, people who won’t let you pray in schools,
and people who “don’t agree with the principles of God’s word
I am telling you” –
they are all out to get “us.“ I was sort of surprised at how sarcastic
the commentators sounded – too much talk radio?
Excerpts
from the following article (that was originally a radio spot,
I think) come from one of the commentary machines I heard on Christian
radio. I’m not sure who the “Probe” people are, and they didn’t
explain why I should be listening to them. They just put out their
stuff in a “Christian” context and assumed they were providing
a corrective to any believer tempted to fall in line with the
enemy. Since I like movies, this little article, especially, made
me think twice. It is about the Academy Award nominees for best
picture in 2000. Maybe you have seen most of them by now.
I’ll indent the pieces of the article with a bullet and
then add my comments bit by bit, below each excerpt:
-
Hollywood's
View of the World
April 5, 2000, by
Kerby Anderson
Anyone
who doubts that Hollywood leans to the left and views the world
through a secular lens, need only look at the recent Academy
Award nominees. Nearly every picture presented a liberal, secular,
humanistic view of the world that challenged traditional morality
and biblical Christianity.
I
am still shocked that any follower of Jesus could not see the
best of both the political “left” and the “right.” I still don’t
know how the politicians got “us” to lean
at all. I don’t think there are many places we could not find
the grace of God at work or many places we could not identify
the fallen condition of humans and their institutions. Spending
much time defending against those who challenge my “tradition”
or my “-ity” seems like a waste of time. I’m no artifact. Challenge
me for who I am and what I create, not who we were and what we created.
1
Timothy 4:9-10 This
is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance
(and for this we labor and strive), that we have put our
hope in the living
God, who is the Savior of all men, and especially of
those who believe.
BUT
it could also find beauty within a dancing piece of trash. Which
may often be necessary.
1
Corinthians 1:26 Think
of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise
by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of
noble birth. But
God chose the foolish
things of the world to shame the wise.
Mostly
true. BUT I loved the love of Michael Caine getting Tobey Maguire
to devote himself to saying good night to the orphans that way
("Goodnight, you Princes of Maine, you Kings of New England").
It was also about abused and immoral people doing good things.
I don’t advocate being a sinner. But it is still true that Circle
of Hope depends on sinners miraculously receiving and doing good
things.
1
Corinthians 1:28-9
God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.
He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised
things--and the things that are not--to nullify the things that
are, so that no one may boast before him.
BUT
you’d have to admit that our persecuted brothers and sisters
around the world question it, too — as might any idealist who
thinks we actually have a democracy and doesn’t want to have murder
on their hands. Plus, Jesus was the recipient of a fallen government’s
death penalty, right? What’s more, didn’t Christians in Philly
help create a penitentiary (as in repentance) devoted to redemption?
Romans
12:21 Do not be overcome
by evil, but overcome evil with
good .
Well,
it did do that. BUT Haley Joel Osment, who saw dead people, had
such great compassion for them and such an understanding of the
unfinished business that keeps many of us walking around like
the living dead.
2
Corinthians 5:1-5 Now
we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have
a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by
human hands. Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our
heavenly dwelling...so that what is mortal may be swallowed up
by life. Now it is
God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the
Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.
This
line sounds like I should have put a BUT in front of it! The crimes
were not just against humanity, I might add, they were against
God. Making a movie that takes the reality of the powers that
be and their fallen nature seriously is a great thing. May we
all see our chains and trust Christ to break them.
Ephesians
6:12-13 For our struggle
is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against
the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against
the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore
put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes,
you may be able to stand your ground.
I
suppose I may sound a little disingenuous, complaining about people
who make all their points by complaining. I admit to reacting
to their reacting. Sometimes the dialogue is like that. I think dialogue with God and with the fellow believers is
how our worldview stays fresh.
A movie, a radio piece about movies, even this quarterly
journal in which you may recognize most of the writers and be
able to test their integrity
may not be the best place of dialogue. But face to face in a cell
or on a team, pulling towards Spirit-led mission objectives —
that’s a good place.
I
can’t find much rest in debating world views. I need to live one
revealed by Jesus. I have been transferred to the kingdom of God
and I live there. Locally, that’s you and me as Circle of Hope.
Daily, that’s having people bump into Rod and meeting a child
of God.
Rod
White
In
1999 we had an issue of the Dialogue
on “The Arts.”
(Isn’t it great that we have survived and grown since 1999?!)
In that issue, Ty Furman gave some of his thoughts on how he is
a Christian and an artist. They give you some idea of his worldview.
Also, in some ways, perhaps, Steve Hoke’s journey through that
territory reflects Ty’s. So here is a little flashback before
Steve shares…—-
Ed.
From:
“My
Struggle with Faith and Art”
I
take both my artistry and my faith very seriously. I rely on both
to carry me through this world and to process what it has to offer
me. It is a struggle, but I have found that I have no choice,
so I have a few foundational issues that I constantly remind myself
of in order to remain faithful to both my God and my art.
•
I cannot fear the world. My God is sovereign and reigns
over the good and the bad, and even the good is broken. The war
is over, we still battle, but the victory is ours.
•
I am not merely an individual. I live in community - the
most important of which is my Christian community, my church and
friends of faith. I share with them. I expect them to support
and challenge me, and I them.
•
I work it out for each individual project in which I am
involved. Sometimes that takes a great deal of work, sometimes
not much. Life is huge and has a great deal to teach us. I am
always learning, about art, faith and life.
•
I know that I live in a state of grace. I am free to fail.
I do fail. And I will continue to fail. Christ is still Lord and
I am still God’s child. And when I fail I am forgiven.
Just
for clarification - I do not try or expect to fail. I work toward
and expect to win, to figure it out, to faithfully be a Christian
and a theatre artist at the same time, without compromising either.
I find that difficult. But for me, both are worth the struggle.
A
Balancing Act
By Steve
Hoke
The
last of the crawfish in black bean sauce had just slipped from
my chopsticks when the question came: "You're an artist right?"
I knew there was more, and I knew my crawfish would get cold,
but I dove in with a solid "Yep." As I had expected
the chopsticks were laid down and a conversation far thicker than
the black bean sauce began. My friend wanted to know how I could
balance my Christian beliefs with the assumed beliefs of the artistic
community.
The
first part of the conversation that needed attention was two basic
assumptions: first, that my Christian beliefs were the same as
hers, and second, that the artistic community was devoid of them.
Interestingly enough, she had excluded me from the second community
but lumped me with the first.
I
think it's fair to lump me with the first group. I am a Christian,
have been for a while. Youth group, worship teams, Messiah College,
trips overseas, and several other touchstones are on my Christian
resume to solidify the commitment. As for the second community,
theater productions, performance installations, and even music
shows in…brace yourself… bars have created a solid professional
resume. With all of this involvement I have been prompted several
times to consider the balancing question. That question normally
starts with the issue of time management. Then the issues become
more obscure, such as: is this environment good for me to be a
part of daily? will I drink heavily if I go to bars? will I succumb
to an unhealthy lifestyle? Each new decision brings more information
to add to the discussion and still no strong answers.
But
there has been one strong change over the past three years. I
have been shown a community that not only encourages the question
of balance, but also expects to find a solution. Circle of Hope,
the Brethren in Christ contingent in Philadelphia, has welcomed
me and then asked me to be an artist. They have invited me to
be artistic not only in the music, readings, or visual art that
happen during our worship meetings, but they have expected that
I be an artist in the rest of my time as well. Professors at Messiah
introduced the idea of holistic education, and some modeled the
attitude that all of life can be intertwined and still be honestly
following Christ's guidance. But few of my professors expected
as much of me as my friends at Circle.
The
body at Circle lets me know what they expect from their questions
and use of time. They want to know where I am playing, where my
art is happening, and how they can support me. All of this seems
very natural. There is nothing new or strange about having my
friends from church interested in my life and how I use my time.
All through my growing up years I was surrounded by people from
church supporting and encouraging my new ideas and activities.
During the high school band years there were always plenty of
church friends that kept informed and came to support us. Then
when I began playing at coffee shops and through college people
continued to ask how things were going. All this is to say that
being supported by the church in my art is not something that
has begun only in the past three years. However, compared to my
time in the Carlisle congregation, my time at Circle has introduced
me to some new ideas.
Words
like integrity and accountability might be used to describe what
Circle has done for me, but those words are too thick. Circle
has simply created one community. We have quietly, but distinctly,
mixed the assumptions of Christian beliefs and artistic pursuit.
The two seemingly different communities that I have participated
in for years now no longer have walls between them. Actually the
Christian artists meet together several times a week. Two or three
of us will gather together and participate in the life of artists
and Christians.
The
other strong point that Circle has helped me realize is that these
ideas are in no way new. I have been introduced to more from Francis
Schaeffer, T. S. Eliot, and C. S. Lewis. Certainly my time in
college showed me these thinkers, but I did not have much to apply
to them. During that time there were other writers and thinkers
that took my attention. Now I come to learn that people in Carlisle
and Grantham knew these thinkers as well; I simply did not know
to ask.
But
back to the crawfish growing cold on my plate and the question
of balance sitting precariously beside my chopsticks. After reflecting
upon the question, I have made an assumption of my own. I think
my friend's real question was, "Am I allowed to question
all of these things that feel so basic to my beliefs?" I
noticed a nervousness in her words that makes me think she wants
to know more but does not feel ready. From what I know of her
background, art has been dealt with like cards and movies on Sundays,
an unclear and dangerous place to be, so why should we put ourselves
in harm's way.
I
think my parents protected me from harm while still letting me
see it passing. My art, and the process in discovering myself
as an artist, has brought many of these unanswerable questions.
Instead of their becoming issues that might invite harm, they
have become questions that I thrived on through school and still
enjoy wresting with till dawn. I think it's important to note
that I am in my mid-20s and have just begun to learn that I do
not know everything. Hard to understand, I know!
However,
I have come to some comforting balance points. The realization
that I am in a community that is willing to support me through
my search and failure is more then just reassuring. That simple
support is almost on par with the knowledge that all things are
possible with God. I am pretty sure that those two points work
together. But a different side of the balancing agent is the background
that has grown me. I come from Christian roots; my grandfather
has been praying for years that I find a career. Keep praying,
Grandpa! Attending a Christian college that appropriately sheltered
me while I first explored these new ideas and artistic identity
was certainly helpful. Now with the body at Circle to encompass
me, I am able to walk out into new places and search for deeper
answers. I am comfortable to be challenged, to challenge my community,
and to seek out new members for the community.
So,
have I balanced my Christian beliefs with those of the art community?
Maybe not, but I have been part of creating a community that is
equipped to walk up and get in the discussion. I am also now able
to recognize and be comfortable in the tension that a search for
balance poses. The question of balance is ongoing and best left
to several more dinners and conversations. Even if I mix conversations
with plenty of prayer, reading other thinkers, and living in a
community that will let me know if I am being honest, I think
the tension of balance will still be real. However, the instability
will no longer be a source of fear, but instead a daily reminder
to maintain focus. For now I will keep time open for dinner and
hope to finish the present conversation before the food is cold.
First
published in the Winter 2003 edition of SHALOM! For back issues, or to subscribe go to http://www.bic-church.org/shalom/
