The Artist who follows Jesus

The following excerpt from "The God Who Smokes: Scandalous Meditations on Faith" by Timothy J. Stoner. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did and still do. Happy Sunday.

The artist who follows Jesus explicitly resides in the world and participates in culture in a truly unique way. She helps others pay attention to, take notice of, and celebrate the goodness of the good creation. She does not shy away from the dark and the broken, the sorrow and terror--but crafts it in such a way as to point toward hope. It is revealing a pathway out of despair and chaotic meaningless. Her work is a candle that flickers and flares.

Her art is for the good of the world.

She does it for the blessing of the world.

She is intent not on reinforcing the curse but breaking it. She has and is a gift. She is sent, like Jesus, to open the eyes of the blind, open the ears of the deaf, or give words to the mute. She is sent on a mission of freedom. Her mission mirrors that of her Savior. She is sent to break chains of despair, set at liberty those tied up with cords of emptiness, futility, and death, and bring sight to those who have lost the capacity to see. She is sent to give us the forgotten vision of the glory that peeks out behind the bush and branch and sea and life as it was meant to be. She sings and shrieks and falls to rise again, to give voice to what we've forgotten or refuse to hear.

She pours out her blood that a world may be saved.

She serves not always willingly or well but in her best moments, when she has forgotten herself, she serves.

Still, her loyalty is not here. She has had her idolatrous attachment broken. She is free to be in but not of . She is not slavishly loyal to the patterns, the values, the demands, and commands of a world in love with itself. Her eyes look up even as she looks out, and in looking around she sees through. She is not bewitched by appearances nor overly and permanently distraught. She has seen a city whose builder and maker is God, and she pines for the day when it will come here so there will be light forever.

And the light will be the love and the joy of her life.

She has this secret. Her heart has been captured by a lover who is out of this world. But He is coming back. She wants to make herself ready and her friends and ever her enemies , too. So she does her work as best she can and prays that it is good, that it will shine so brightly as to bring glory not to her but to Him.


(1) Stoner, Timothy.
The God who smokes: scandalous meditations on faith
published by Navpress, 2008

How do you define Art?

Excerpt from Duma Key by Stephen King:

How to Draw a Picture (Part 4)

Start with what you know, then re-invent it. Art is magic, no argument there, but all art, no matter how strange, starts in the humble everyday. Jut don't be surprised when weird flowers sprout from common soil.

How do you define art? Whether it's painting, sculpture, music, writing - what separates the very good from the very great? Do you rely on an expert opinion? Or at the very least, does said opinion influence your objectivity?

If you agree with Mr. King's assessment that "all art...starts in the humble everyday", then to some extent does your emotional attachment to the familiar, to what you know, color your opinion of what is beautiful or even what is not?

Even though we all share one planet, we each live in our own separate worlds. The world I see through my eyes is different than yours. It's colored and shaped by my own regrets and successes, my own dreams and hopes. Because of this, we are all separated from each other in a small but important way.

Art is the means by which we bridge that gap. It's how we shout across the expanses between us and seek understanding and fellowship. It's how we reach out of the deep holes we dig for ourselves and grasp the hand of God. Through art we turn the chaos of our lives into order and give what cannot be explained meaning. Often it isn't the answers we're after, but better questions.

To create something, whether a painting or a poem, is to sacrifice a part of ourselves so that we can grow. It's to voluntarily feel the pain of hollowing out our hearts so we can feel more happiness later on. It is the ultimate risk, and the only one worth taking.

Stay Hungry

Excerpt from Duma Key by Stephen King:

How to Draw a Picture (Part 3)

Stay hungry. It worked for Michelangelo, it worked for Picasso, and it works for a hundred thousand artists who do it not for love (although that might play a part) but in order to put food on the table. If you want to translate the world, you need to use your appetites. Does this surprise you? It shouldn't. There's no creation without talent, I give you that, but talent is cheap. Talent goes begging. Hunger is the piston of art.

For those of you who are blessed (or cursed, depending on your perspective) with the desire to create, what drives that desire? What do you hunger for?

It is the ultimate luxury to be able to make a living doing something you love. Sure, there are parts of every job one might consider drudgery, but such is life.

As I've mentioned, I am a painter. And while I can't say with a straight face that it's a living, it is a job I love. While I certainly utilize my creativity in my work, most projects are hardly art. Murals are the exception to this, but they do not represent the majority of my work.

I often hear leaders in business and ministry stress that you should not take criticism or rejection personally. While I agree with that to a certain degree, I guess I'm hard wired to believe differently.

How can you pour your heart into a creative endeavor - writing, creating music, painting, poetry, etc., and then NOT take it personally when your work is criticized or rejected? Especially when it is rejected by the so called experts?

I'm learning only the bravest of souls dare to subject themselves to this type of abuse.

Hunger is indeed the piston of art.

I still don't dare consider myself any type of serious writer, and my limited exposure to the world of publishing has temporarily put any personal aspirations on hold. But then I remember one of my favorite quotes, and it gives me a bit of courage. Hope it does the same for you.

"What you really have to do, if you want to be creative, is to unlearn all the teasing and censoring that you've experienced throughout your life. If you are truly a creative person, you know that feeling insecure and lonely is par for the course. You can't have it both ways: You can't be creative and conform, too. You have to recognize that what makes you different also makes you creative."

- Arno Penzias, 1978 Nobel Prize winner for physics

For Christine (and others like her)...

I've got a few ideas for posts swirling around my head in their usual disorganized states of confusion. I've even written a rough draft for one in particular that I just need to research a bit more and tweak here and there. But until then, I came across a passage in one of the books I'm reading that beautifully reflected the heart of an artist who has chosen to follow Christ. "The God Who Smokes: Scandalous Meditations of Faith"(1) by Timothy Stoner (yes, that's his real name) has served as a much needed reminder that the God of Mercy is also the God of Wrath. May I never forget that!

Anyway, the following passage reminded me of my dear friend and fellow believer Christine. So this is for you:


The artist who follows Jesus explicitly resides in the world and participates in culture in a truly unique way. She helps others pay attention to, take notice of, and celebrate the goodness of the good creation. She does not shy away from the dark and the broken, the sorrow and terror--but crafts it in such a way as to point toward hope. It is revealing a pathway out of despair and chaotic meaningless. Her work is a candle that flickers and flares.


Her art is for the good of the world.

She does it for the blessing of the world.

She is intent not on reinforcing the curse but breaking it. She has and is a gift. She is sent, like Jesus, to open the eyes of the blind, open the ears of the deaf, or give words to the mute. She is sent on a mission of freedom. Her mission mirrors that of her Savior. She is sent to break chains of despair, set at liberty those tied up with cords of emptiness, futility, and death, and bring sight to those who have lost the capacity to see. She is sent to give us the forgotten vision of the glory that peeks out behind the bush and branch and sea and life as it was meant to be. She sings and shrieks and falls to rise again, to give voice to what we've forgotten or refuse to hear.


She pours out her blood that a world may be saved.


She serves not always willingly or well but in her best moments, when she has forgotten herself, she serves.

Still, her loyalty is not here. She has had her idolatrous attachment broken. She is free to be in but not of . She is not slavishly loyal to the patterns, the values, the demands, and commands of a world in love with itself. Her eyes look up even as she looks out, and in looking around she sees through. She is not bewitched by appearances nor overly and permanently distraught. She has seen a city whose builder and maker is God, and she pines for the day when it will come here so there will be light forever.


And the light will be the love and the joy of her life.


She has this secret. Her heart has been captured by a lover who is out of this world. But He is coming back. She wants to make herself ready and her friends and ever her enemies , too. So she does her work as best she can and prays that it is good, that it will shine so brightly as to bring glory not to her but to Him.


Thank you, Christine. For recognizing the darkness and the light in my heart. And inspiring me towards greater works of art for His Glory.



(1) Stoner, Timothy.
The God who smokes: scandalous meditations of faith
published by Navpress, 2008