transforming culture

Not too long ago, in response to a comment I made about a particular piece, a fellow writer told me, "That's because you're a modern reader."

I've been thinking about that statement. What does it mean? What does it say about me? What does it say about my writing?

Here's my working conclusion: Art holds in balance three things--reflecting the culture in which it is written (and communicating to that culture), transforming the culture in which it is written, and transcending the culture in which it is written.

If N.T. Wright and music had a child, it would be Jeremy Begbie.

I'm pretty sure neither Wright nor Jeremy would endorse that statement, but there it is. 

Continuing on our artist's journey, specifically in Barbara Nicolosi's session in the Transforming Culture symposium...

Barbara talked about the terrain of the artist, namely what is beautiful. She relied on Aristotle's definition of beauty, which has three parts: wholeness (meaning nothing's missing), harmony (meaning related to one another in complementary ways), and radiance (meaning something is communicated that is profound, beyond language--I understood this to mean beyond language used in propositions and explanations--and personal).

Barbara Nicolosi had me snorting coffee. She began with this statement:

There are two kinds of people in the world--people who are artists and people who are supposed to support them. Figure out which one you are and do it with vigor.

Tell me, how can you not love this woman? When the mean old time keeper looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows, we shushed him and told Barbara to keep talking. We would've listened to her all night.

(Barbara, can you hear me?)

(Great, now I have that song stuck in my head.)

Artists often live a solitary life. We struggle with loneliness. We struggle with being misunderstood. We struggle with rejection. So on this journey, who do we turn to? Who are our allies?

The artist encounters obstacles and enemies on the journey. He faces trials that must be overcome. But these trials refine both the art and the character of the artist. These trials have the potential for spiritual formation.

We have our calling. We've been guided, gifted, and inspired by our mentor. We're grounded in the Church--as a friend said, the audience breathes with the liturgy of the worship. Now the question is who are our enemies and allies? What is the rhythm of our journey?

(And what is your favorite color?)

We now embark on the next part of the story, Meeting the Mentor (Christopher Vogler's paraphrase of Joseph Campbell's hero structure).

Tomorrow, I'll continue my interaction with the Transforming Culture symposium, specifically with Eugene Peterson's talk (yes, the translator of The Message).

In the meantime, some random thoughts.

Politics in a Waiting Room