liturgical art

My favorite season is Advent. All the anticipation and waiting. The preparations. Lighting a new candle each Sunday, then, on Christmas Eve, passing the fire from candle to candle.

When I came home from New Jersey, I found a treat in my mailbox (the good kind; not the kind from the neighborhood kids)–a copy of the Mosaic Bible.

The Mosaic Bible uses the New Living Translation. At the beginning of each book, the editors give a short paragraph summary of the content of the book, an outline, the author, the date, a one-sentence purpose statement, and the themes.

But my favorite part of the Mosaic Bible, and the reason I craved it, is the readings and art for the liturgical calendar, beginning with Advent and going through Pentecost. Each week contains suggested Scripture readings, meditations in poetry/hymn form, selections from theologians across centuries and continents, and art.

From the editor’s statement about this project: "The purpose of this Bible is to provide a way to encounter Christ on every continent and in every century of Christian history. Why? Because when this happens, God’s profound and often unexpected work on behalf of his children becomes clear in new and exciting ways. It is important to see that the body of Christ is much bigger than the small piece we each experience in our everyday lives."

Mosaic draws together my favorite things: artistic expressions of God’s word, history, cultural richness, and the rhythm of the liturgical calendar. I can’t wait to begin using the readings this Sunday.

Because the readings can be broken up throughout the week, this is the ideal way for families to introduce their children to theologians and artists.

I highly recommend Mosaic, but you need to hurry and get yours. Advent begins this Sunday!

Back to my thoughts on the Transforming Culture symposium…

I debated skipping one of the sessions put on by John Witvliet (mostly because I have no idea how to say his last name). After being called by Andy Crouch to be Beautifully Unuseful to God, after given guidance by Eugene Peterson as to what it means to Live Vocationally, John Witvliet brought us to the beginning of our journey. We’ve crossed the threshold, and, fittingly both historically and spiritually, we looked at art within the church (or public assembly).

I was going to skip this session because I felt like I didn’t have much to say about it. John Witvliet spoke deeply and thoughtfully about what it means to bring art into public worship, to use it liturgically. (His definition of liturgy: "the set of patterned expectations that emerge in communities and congregations of all kinds, styles, and denominations." In other words, if you have a general idea of what goes on at your Sunday morning service, you have a liturgy.) I felt that because I don’t feel called to primarily do art for public worship services (although I have in the past and look forward to hopefully again doing a drama ministry), this was not my area. It’s more the area of my friend, Amy, under whose graces I attended the conference, whose ear must still be recovering from my constant chatter to, at, and from the conference, and who (here’s the important part) is focusing on liturgical art at our Church. And let me tell you folks, I’m glad she is because not only is she talented, not only does she have great ideas, but she’s organized. Yes! Organization! I’d heard of it somewhere, but to see it in action. You should see it, really. (Secretly, bragging about her is my way of nudging her to start her own blog to share her brilliance with the world.)

But back to me. Because this is my blog, and it’s about me.

I’m not skipping his session (which I’m sure with your amazing analytical powers you’ve deduced from the fact that I’ve blabbered on this much about it). But I’m not really going to talk about what he talked about (to see more, you can go to Calvin Institute’s Worship page). I couldn’t come close to communicating what he did through music, video, and art. I’ll give you his main points and my thoughts (that’s what you’re paying for, folks).

Here’s why I decided not to skip it: the church is integral to the arts. Historically, the foundations of Western art are the church–Gregorian Chant, passion plays, triptychs. Globally, much of art is tied to religion–totem poles, religious songs and chants, headdress. Think of it: if the Church became the epi-center of art, where the greatest art in the world could be found and could be created, imagine how that would change the face of art. I’m not talking art with better morals. I’m talking better art. As beautiful as art is now, infused with the truth, love, and beauty of Christ, guided by His Body (i.e. the Church) could you imagine? No limits!

But I’m getting ahead of myself. I wanted to say a note about the beginning of my artistic journey being grounded in my spiritual life. I’ve discovered that my art directly relates to my spiritual formation. For example, my writing–yes, even (I’d venture to say moreso) my fiction writing–emmerged from my growth in seminary. Now, mind you, I don’t think everyone who is called to be an artist should attend seminary (although some are called to attend). What I’m saying is that if every artist seeks truth, and the most complete, whole, and harmonious truth is found in Jesus Christ, than the better I know Jesus Christ, the better I create art. This is why I’m passionate about spiritual formation–both because it draws me to the Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer of all things beautiful, but also because the outpouring of His love in me becomes art. Art is my expression of Christ.

Already this is getting too long, and I haven’t begin to touch on John Witvliet’s topic of liturgical art. I’ve only said why I think liturgical art is important! Not only does liturgical art guide us in beautiful worship of God using all the God-given senses, but it guides us as we create outside the public assembly. Let me give you three points about liturgical art from his talk:

"In an age of profound isolation and individualism, the liturgical artist has the joyful privilege of helping local congregations realize what it means to be the body of Christ: a corporate identity, crossing cultural, geographical, and chronological boundaries, in active communion with Christ." As an artist, it’s easy to hide inside myself. Liturgical art reminds me that it’s about God’s vision, and that vision is global and communal, therefore my art should reflect that.
"Liturgical artworks promise to deepen a congregation’s participation in the profoundly relational and covenantal acts of public worship, provided that artists and congregations actively resist both the temptation to make artworks the end in themselves, and the temptation to soften the covenantal dimensions of worship into some sentimental substitute." Can I highlight "sentimental substitute"? Pay attention to that phrase, "sentimental substitute." There was a big emphasis at the conference about the dangers of sentimentality and a lot of amens from the attendees! The Church, rather than falling into some feel-good sentimentality, has more power than anyone else in the world to resist it, because we know the truth of the cross, which is the epitome of pain and healing.
"Liturgical artworks offer remarkable opportunities to perceive the glory and beauty of the triune God. This stunning claim means that ‘resisting idolatry’ is one of the leading callings for every aspiring liturgical artist. Every one of us needs to wake up every morning eager to name which idol of imagination we are eager to resist and which aspects of divine beauty we are eager to highlight (and adore!)."

For someone who thought she didn’t have much to say, she sure did talk enough! Shutting up now…