Creativity

Today’s Word: Re-gifting

Steve · December 21, 2013 · Leave a Comment

‘Tis the season for re-gifting,
fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
Tins of fruitcake are uplifting,
fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
One more year to re-deliver,
fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.
Just remember last year’s giver!
Fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la.

I don’t know the etiquette of re-gifting, although I’m sure Miss Manners could teach me a thing or two. But it’s that time of year when, let’s admit it, we sometimes look around and see what we might have that we could offer to others. A gift card we never used, that duplicate toaster oven we never returned, the proverbial ugly Christmas sweater…

Or maybe we give from our own treasures: A book or painting we have that someone else has always admired, or perhaps a family keepsake that perhaps it’s time to pass on. Then again, maybe we can re-gift those most precious things of all, our time and talents. God, of course, is the giver of everything that is good and creative in our lives, even though we tend to call these things “mine.” MY gifts, MY time, MY talents. Carelessly and thoughtlessly, we can convince ourselves that we have earned these things when, in fact, they are pure gifts. No matter how hard we have worked to develop them, build them and use them, our contemplative selves will remind us — in our quiet moments of prayer and reflection — that everything is gift. Our response to the Giver, then, is twofold. The first response is gratitude. The second is re-gifting, passing on that time and talent to someone else in need of something we have. Here, like the family heirloom, we give from our abundance, from our treasure. And God smiles.

Ask yourself in silence: What treasures and talents can I re-gift this year?

Today’s Word: Poetic

Steve · October 16, 2013 · 1 Comment

station — Looking Jesus in the Eye. SJG photo.

“The Church must be a poetic community,” theologian Walter Brueggemann once wrote, meaning — in my mind anyway — that if we are going to reach the people around us with the Gospel, we’re going to have to move beyond the standard rhetoric and capture their imaginations through our creativity, poetry, music, and art. We must be able to offer more them more than dogma and argument. We must be able to show and tell them who Jesus is in new and creative ways, following the lead of Jesus himself, who taught most effectively not with shouts of indignation but rather with simple parables and gentle acts of hospitality and healing. Jesus taught by feeding people and by looking them in the eye when he spoke. In the Beatitudes, he reached them by giving them a beautifully poetic list of ways they could live more blessed lives. Like a good rabbi, Jesus taught using the power of story.

Jesus can be hard to see and find in our busy, self-centered world. So it’s the job of the Church — that’s us — to prayerfully, gently and clearly bring him into the light of day in the midst of darkness. By telling his story in new ways and by relating the stories of our own lives and the movement of God in them, we stand as poetic, creative witnesses to the life of Christ, professing a loving, forgiving God who is Immanuel, who is “God with us,” who is the Incarnate, living, creative and creating Word.

Ask yourself in silence: How can I tell the story of Jesus in a fresh, creative, artistic way? How can I make Jesus and his good news understandable and attractive to someone who desperately needs to hear the story?

Today’s Word: Creative

Steve · October 13, 2013 · 2 Comments

jenny — My daughter, Jenny, creating some music with friends Phil Cooper, left, and Gerry Kasper. SJG photo.

When we create art — at whatever level of expertise and of whatever kind — we reflect the work of the Creator, the One who put that creative spark in our gut. I have friends who create music, paintings, photography, quilts, poetry, plays, novels and many other types of work that would just remain ideas if not for the effort and commitment they put into their art and the inspiration that comes from somewhere deep within them. For the creative arts may be “inspired,” but if the idea never comes to life and no one experiences it, then what good is it? It’s like walking through an art museum or gallery and thinking, “I could have done that!” Well maybe so, but you didn’t. Someone else had the idea and took the leap.

love — "All You Need is Love," acrylic and paper on canvas by Steve Givens.

The creative arts, at least for many of us who profess a Creator God, are acts of faith. When we dare to create, when we “step out the boat,” we move from safety and comfort into an area of uncertainty, for when we begin to create we don’t always know where we are going to end up. The poem begins with a single word or line. The song with a note. The painting with a sketch or with putting brush to canvas. So it’s easy enough to talk ourselves out of creating because we think we’re not talented or creative enough. But our call as artists and people of faith is not to artistic perfection but to genuine and authentic response to the call. We are called to find some glimmer of truth and beauty in the world around us — to capture the movement and color of God — and respond, to reflect that back to those around us. Not everyone finds God in the same way. As artists and creative people, our vocation is to gently lead those who view or read or hear our art to look a little closer at the world around them and see for themselves that something beautiful, loving and eternal is waiting their notice.

Ask yourself in silence: What could I create today? How can I turn a creative gesture into both prayer for myself and a guidepost to God for others?

Today’s Word: Watching

Steve · September 7, 2013 · Leave a Comment

Watching for the Other. SJG photo

“Vocatus Atque Non Vocatus Deus Aderit.” (“Bidden or not bidden, God is present.”)
– Dutch theologian, humanist and priest Desiderius Erasmus

What does it say about us that we spend our lives looking for something that cannot be seen? How many times have I said or written, “watch for the movement of God in your life?” Some might think it means I’m a little off my rocker, or perhaps that I’m well intentioned but, of course, dead wrong. Foolish. Sadly mistaken. In some ways, I guess I can see their point. I might be wrong, after all. Perhaps there is no God to be found. No God to be seen or present in our lives.

So why waste my breath or blog space talking about all this God stuff and God’s movement in our lives? Because I can fathom no other way of living a loving, creative life. Because this “God,” this “other” keeps showing up in my life and in the lives of those around me. Because — rooted in divine love and the example of Christ — we choose to live lives of faith, hope and love, lives that take us beyond ourselves and embed us in the love and grace of the unmoved mover and the giver of life. We choose life in Christ, we choose belief in God, because we know it to be true by our own experiences. We know it somewhere deep.

God is not just a good idea, created by humans to indulge and comfort us. Neither is God “out there.” God — bidden or not bidden — is here and now, and if we are watchful we will catch glimpses of the Other as we walk and work through life. So we slow down, we pay attention, and we wait for those fleeting, sacred glances that sustain.

Ask yourself in silence: Do I watch for God in my life? When did I last see God?

Today’s Word: Story

Steve · August 27, 2013 · 3 Comments

While I hesitate to speak for others and try to never say, “we all” do or say something, I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “I think we all have a story to tell.” We may not all want to share it publicly or write it down for posterity, but nevertheless there’s this story — this ache, perhaps — inside all of us that is just waiting to come out. Last year, I spent a few months as a volunteer for a local hospice organization, where my only job was to ask people to tell me their stories. Some folks told me they had no story to tell and sat silently until I primed the pump by asking a few questions. Then I just had to sit back and listen.

This power of the word within us is a mysterious and sacred thing, for the stories of our lives are the histories of the movement of God in us over the course of time. To tell these stories of “God within us” is akin to proclaiming the word of God. To listen to another is an act of love and a sign of community, a “holy listening” that tells the other that they are a child of God whose life and story are sacred, distinct and worthy of our time and respect. To listen to another is to give purpose and meaning to their life. The power of our story lies in our place in God’s creation — we are creatures of the Creator and thus capable and called to create our own stories.

Ask yourself in silence: Am I willing to try and find God in the people around me by listening to their stories? Do I respect the stories of those around me as I respect the Word of God?