See No Evil? (Discernment in the Arts) - Carolyn Arends

Many of us who peruse this blog love stories (whether those stories be told in novels, playhouses or movie theatres.) Many of us here also seek to follow the Apostle Paul’s encouragement to train our minds on “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, [and] whatever is admirable (Phil 4:8, NIV).” Often, we face a quandary. What if, to tell a story honestly, unsavoury or downright evil behaviours must be portrayed?  Are we constrained—either as consumers or creators of art—to keep certain topics or words off limits?

This spring, I found myself struggling through this question with a group of college students in a class I was teaching on faith and the arts. We could all agree upon extreme cases of exploitative and gratuitous sex, violence and abusive language that are clearly outside the bounds of the Philippians 4:8 mandate. But we were less sure what to do with greyer areas. What if the questionable elements in a story are not there to titillate, but rather because they are an important part of telling the truth about the human condition?  The Bible itself contains many frank and unflinching depictions of human depravity; if we were to legalistically and thoughtlessly apply the Philippians 4:8 mandate to Scripture, we’d have to censor a good deal of what is there.

Despite several lively debates, we never did arrive at a clear consensus on this issue. But we did settle on a framework that helped us at least begin to more thoughtfully and prayerfully engage with stories of all kinds. When tasked with evaluating a piece of art in any genre, we asked ourselves three questions, inspired by the Church’s long history of appropriating (quite appropriately, I think) Plato’s three Transcendentals.

Is it good?

Is it true?

Is it beautiful?

The first question – Is it good? – involves ethics and morals. It requires us to consider not only whether a story contains offensive words or scenes, but also whether the worldview it tacitly conveys is an ethical one. It might be possible for a film to be rated “G,” but embody an insidious worldview in which material success is considered the ultimate meaning in life, or people are merely means to ends. Conversely, it might be possible for a movie to contain violence, sex or language, but provide a perspective on the human condition that moves the viewer towards a more ethical or moral stance.

The second question – Is it true? – is an even more theological one. Does the story—whether it is fact or fantasy or something in between—say something honest about the world and the people who inhabit it? Does it hint at anything true about God? Even if the worldview in a story is in conflict with the Gospel, can it teach us something true about the perspectives and needs of the people who hold it?

The third question – Is it beautiful? – has to do with aesthetics. It asks whether the art in question is well-crafted and successfully formed. A depraved story may be breathtakingly depicted. (In such instances we should proceed with caution.) Or, as is sometimes the case in explicitly “Christian” storytelling, a good and true story may be shabbily crafted. (Caution is required here, too! Please!)

With these three questions, my students and I were able to begin a process of discernment that each of us will be working through for the rest of our lives. We might decide that a story lacking in one of the Transcendentals can still be worthy of our attention due to its strengths in another.  Most essentially, we felt challenged to try to create work ourselves that was deeply good, unflinchingly true, and as beautiful as we could possibly make it.

I pray you will go and do likewise!

Carolyn

PS – My own adventure in art-making this spring involves recording an album of Christmas originals, which will be released October 15, 2014.  This project will be my 11th CD; it’s the first one we’re crowdfunding. We’re asking people to consider pre-ordering the album (with great discounts and perks) in order to help us make it. Please check out our Kickstarter project. Thanks!

Retain or Remove

“Don’t worry,” the saleslady told me when I ordered laminate flooring for our main floor, “Our workers will move the furniture as they install. They’ll move everything to one side, do that side then move it all to the other side of the room.”

That sounded wonderful.  I have children and grandchildren who could help, but they all have busy lives.  If the workmen would move the furniture, I wouldn’t have to bother them. 

The first thing I saw when I came home and started imagining the ratty, stained carpet replaced by shining laminate, was the big glass cupboard fashioned by my loving husband, full of dishes—good dishes that seldom get used.  If the workmen tried to move that with the dishes inside, they’d probably not able to budge it, and if they did, the dishes would go for a slide.  Obviously, I will have to take the dishes out.  What if I found other places for those I don’t really need?  That would de-clutter my life and make it easier to keep clean. 

I moved to my office.  As a writer, and a bit of a sentimental pack rat, I have files and files of interesting items I might need some time (emphasis on might and some.)  My bookshelf is full of books about writing and for writing.  Some I use often, others I have barely scratched the surface of the pool of wisdom contained in them.  I have copies of talks given and revised for a slightly different setting.  Oh, they’re on my computer too, but I might need them sometime in the future.  There are CD’s and installation discs for computer programs that have long ago become extinct. I began to sort and decipher which of those items need to be kept and which need to go.  But the flooring people are due to come next week.

Reluctantly, I began to put things in boxes and marking them as to contents, storing them in our garage with the aim to sort when I return my office to working order after the floors are installed.  In the back of my mind I wonder how long that is going to take and fear that some of those boxes may never see the light of day.

This morning as we read or daily devotional and God’s word, it dawned on me how much my life and my mind resemble my office.  In today’s world we are assaulted with information from so many directions.  I love facts about just about everything.  I’m interested in people and love to be able to respond to needs to encourage those going through difficult times, to remember birthdays and anniversaries, and to send cards for different occasions or no occasion at all.  I like to stay in touch with friends from long ago and friends currently in my life.  I am involved in many committees and organizations doing all kinds of good things: when I’m involved I don’t want to be only an observer, so I often chair the committee, take minutes or participate in an active way.  Often my mind feels like my office—books, binders, reference materials, pictures, articles in files and drawers, stacked on shelves and overflowing—a whole pile of information waiting to be filed, and sometimes lost in the plethora, the overabundance of material.

When it comes to my office and my mind, it seems to be not just a question of whether, but a necessary action that must be taken.  I realize I’m not getting younger.  My mind is still active and I want to keep it that way.  However like many machines, if I keep feeding it too much and too fast, it can get overloaded and perhaps my grind to a halt.  I need to discern more closely what is necessary, what is expedient and what is superfluous, what can be left for others to do.  For some people, the super organizers, that may come naturally.  I’ve always had distaste for those who sit back and say “Someone else can do that.”  I fear becoming one of those people, so it’s hard for me to let go.  I need counsel and wisdom to help me know what to discard from my life and what to retain—both in my office and in my mind. 

How glad I am for James 1:5—“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” 

Ruth Smith Meyer is included in the anthology, "Fifty Shades of Grace."

She is also author of two adult novels, "Not Easily Broken," and the sequel "Not Far from the Tree," and a children's book dealing with grief, "Tyson's Sad Bad Day." 

You Probably Won't Be Sent to Egypt - Arends

Hi All - Here is my most recent Christianity Today column, dealing with the pesky question of what to do next ... when you don't know what to do next. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Carolyn

You Probably Won't Be Sent to Egypt…

But one way or another, God will point you to the place where your gifts can serve his people.

Carolyn Arends

[ posted on Christianity Today ]

Years ago, I toured as an opening act for Rich Mullins. There was something about Rich's music that stirred up people's deepest longings. I loved overhearing conversations at the autograph table; they often turned serious and urgent.

More than once, a fan asked Rich how to discern the will of God. Rich would listen, and then offer an unexpected perspective.

"I don't think finding God's plan for you has to be complicated," he'd begin. "God's will is that you love him with all your heart and soul and mind, and also that you love your neighbor as yourself. Get busy with that, and then, if God wants you to do something unusual, he'll take care of it. Say, for example, he wants you to go to Egypt." Rich would pause for a moment before flashing his trademark grin. "If that's the case, he'll provide 11 jealous brothers, and they'll sell you into slavery."

I'm not sure whether this satisfied Rich's fans, but I suspect his advice has stayed with them in the way it's haunted me. When I find myself wrestling with life decisions, I think of Rich's Egypt Principle. It makes me laugh, and then it asks me to get down to the serious business of determining which of my options allow me to best love God and other people. Such an approach usually rules out certain possibilities, while affirming (and even creating) several others.

Sometimes, once I've narrowed down my alternatives in light of the Great Commandment, the determinative "jealous brothers" do show up. A scholarship comes through at one school and not another. A job offer is escalated or rescinded. Other times, however, I'm left standing at the junction of several seemingly reasonable pathways, miserable with uncertainty. If only Rich were around to dispatch further wisdom!

Recently, in a college music department faculty meeting, the topic of discerning God's will came up. We were discussing the decisions our students face, which often include whether to pursue a music career or enter church ministry. One teacher mentioned that he asks students to attend to their experiences of consolation and desolation. They should give special consideration to the directions that most consistently produce consolation, he said, while the avenues that create desolation should be approached cautiously.

I was skeptical. If some of our students are led into music careers, desolation (rejection, obstacles, long drives in decrepit vans) will be normative. (I imagine the desolation level in church ministry is similar.) Often, the most worthwhile undertakings are the most difficult. Christians, as people of the Cross, should understand this best. Wouldn't a paradigm of consolation and desolation lead to avoiding anything challenging or unpleasant?

While I teach at one college, I'm a graduate student at another. There, only a few weeks later, I re-encountered the consolation/desolation paradigm in some coursework on Ignatian spirituality. I began to realize that I had misunderstood these terms. Consolation is understood not as happy feelings (although they can be its byproduct), but rather as that which opens us up to God and others—and quickens our pulse for the things of the kingdom. Even difficult circumstances can lead to consolation if we sense God in them. Desolation, too, is more nuanced than I imagined. It has to do with that which distracts us from our awareness of God's presence and turns us in on ourselves (whether our immediate experience of the diversion is positive or negative).

Ignatian spiritual direction reminds us that diligent attention to the movements of consolation and desolation in our own souls can help clarify which options lie within God's will. In moments of crisis, we can base our decisions both upon how we have sensed him moving, and also upon the God-given inclinations we've discovered within ourselves.

I'm not certain whether Rich Mullins was familiar with Ignatian spirituality. But I know he paid attention to the things that opened him up to God—and the things God seemed to have wired him to love—and ran headlong toward them. That's how he ended up traveling with a ragamuffin band of friends, singing songs that made people hungry to find God's will. It's also how he wound up, toward the end of his short but ferociously lived life, on a Navajo reservation, teaching music to kids.

Maybe that's why Rich could claim that loving God and others takes care of most of our discernment questions. After all, the psalmist assures us that if we delight ourselves in the Lord, he will give us the desires of our heart (Ps. 37:4). God can be trusted to teach our hearts what to desire, and to lead us—by jealous brothers, burning bushes, or quiet inclinations—to the places where our own unique giftings meet the movements of his kingdom. There we find consolation … and joy.

www.carolynarends.com

Some Hasty History and a Christmas blessing - Harris

I've been submerged in deadlines all week. The Word Guild blog slipped my mind as I immersed myself in research, writing and figuring out Christmas. But about four in the morning I was prodded awake by a nagging thought: The Word Guild Blog. The Word Guild Blog, I thought? Is it the 17th? Oh my, what will I write?

Then the thought came to me. Share what you've found out. So, here it is.

Let me begin with a verse from scripture: Prove all things, hold fast that which is good. 1 Thessalonians 5:21

Now let me share a couple of historical facts that I've discovered that run counter to what you hear on the news. First, Michael Ignatieff's, promotion to Leader of the Opposition, without an election, is nothing new in our democratic tradition. Both Ralph Klein and Ed Stelmach, in Alberta, became Premiers without an election in their first terms. This has happened several times at the federal level as well.

As loyal members of their parties, the caucus members (MLAs and MPs) of our political parties normally accept their memberships' choice about who should be their leader in the Legislative Assembly or House of Commons.

That is convention. It is not law, although some parties do have by-laws, within their organizations, to require members of the party sitting in the legislature or Parliament (which includes the Crown, Senate, and House of Commons) to follow the party's instruction about who to choose as First Minister or Leader of the Opposition.

But, rarely, a party's caucus (MLAs or MPs who sit as members of that party) chooses a leader without a party vote. That too is acceptable in our system of Parliamentary Democracy.

For example, when Alberta Premier William Aberhart died suddenly in 1943, there was no party convention or consultation. Instead, the Social Credit Members of the Legislature got together at a caucus meeting and made Ernest Manning the Premier. The voters and the Opposition had no say in this decision. This is a perfectly acceptable way of becoming Premier in our system of government.

We are a Constitutional Monarchy. It is the role of the Crown to ensure that there is always a stable government in Canada and the Crown has several options to ensure it. The Crown can also deny unconstitional laws as the Lieutenant Governor of Alberta did when William Aberhart tried to deny Freedom of the Press in the Province of Alberta. His decision was backed up by both the Governor General, the Provincial Courts, and the Supreme Court of Canada and the Judicial Committe of the Privy of Westminster . I assure you that Albertans are very glad Lieutenant Governor, John Bowan, a Baptist Minister, took his job seriously enough in 1935 not to sign away our Freedom of Speech because the Premier, also a Christian Pastor, asked him to. (Interestingly, this episode is not usually discussed by the popular media, although Lord Byng's decision to deny Mackenzie King an election is.)

Why? Because first ministers (Premiers, Prime Ministers - these words literally mean first minister- are elected as members of an assembly (legislature, House of Commons) for a particular riding (sometimes called 'constituency'). Canadians, like Brits, Australians, New Zealanders, and other Commonwealth Realms elect members of assemblies (Legislatures, Parliaments). They do not elect First Ministers.

It is convention that the head of the largest party becomes First Minister. The leader of the second largest party usually becomes Leader of the Official (or Loyal) Opposition (Also sometimes called Leader of Her Majesty's Official --or loyal- Opposition.

But coalitions are also acceptable: one coalition was between Sir John A. Macdonald and Sir Georges Etienne Cartier. It led to Confederation.

In the 1950s, the parties of British Columbia formed a coalition to deny the Commonwealth Cooperative Federation power. In a rather dramatic story, typical of British Columbia's colourful political scene, the plan led to the election of W.A.C. Bennett's Social Credit Party.

O.K. Now you have proof that I am a nerd who immerses herself in history and the constitution. But may this nerd make one comment?

Learning one's history and constitutional framework helps us discern what is being said to us by our 'leaders' and, with prayer, leads us to where we need to go.

Sorry this is so hastily written. I'd be happy to discuss this history with any of you, but give me until tomorrow. I have to get this last deadline met. Blessings. Happy Christmas.

Jane Harris