We are never more in tune with God than when we are creating. Art is God’s native tongue. The universe is His gallery, but the mind of man is the studio where He creates today. We create art. Create. In the beginning God created. Music, literature, poetry, painting, sculpture is not built, constructed, or assembled. They are created, their foundational components are not tangible but abstract. The key ingredient being imagination. What is conceived in the mind only becoming a living thing through voice or hand. “And God said...” Things like sunsets, galaxies, laughter, the platypus, the breeze, and flowers, and man. There was no blueprint or template, just His imagination, His emotion, passion and expression. Nature is not God but God is in nature. I am not what I write, but I am in every word, likewise the painter in every brushstroke, the chef in every ingredient, and the musician in every note. We are not God, but God is in us, and He is crying to get out. “Let me turn your life, your job, your relationships, your marriage, your money, even your failures, into art, into a thing of beauty. Help me transform your neighborhood, your community, your nation into a Garden.” We are God’s workmanship, His poetry.
Worship is nothing more than the God inspired art we create for, and mutually enjoy with, our Creator. His Spirit our muse, beckoning us, since the dawn of time, to “be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth.” And so we worship through food, through music, through words. We create and then we give.
Do not view life as a to do list, but each day as a blank page upon which you can write any story, compose any song, or draw any picture you like. Today may be a single note, a fittingly chosen word, a seed planted or watered, or perhaps a few brushstrokes of background scenery, and still be viewed as a success, for each of these components is essential to the creation of a masterpiece which may take a lifetime to create.
But be warned. There is another spirit at work within our world. It is not a spirit of creation, but destruction. This spirit does not make, it takes. It acquires, and then inflates, and ultimately destroys. This spirit is no muse working in us, but a siren whispering to us. “Why go to the trouble to create when you can just seize? Stretch out your hand.” Where we see beauty, it sees only opportunity. Everything is a commodity to be bought and sold, emblazoned with a logo and trademarked label — the mark of the beast — then finally exploited and niche marketed.
Where we see beauty, it sees flaws, weaknesses, and problems to be criticized, critiqued, trolled, denigrated, and deported. It sees animals that need to be caged at least or put down at best. Ignoring that music can soothe the savage beast. Forgetting, ‘twas beauty that killed the beast.
When it does build, it isn’t roofs to house the least among us, but walls to separate them from us. Prisons. Neighborhoods. Borders. Walls that separate mother from child. Walls it can top with razor wire, automatic rifles, and cameras. Walls it can plaster with logos, ads, warnings, restrictions, propaganda.
We are never less like God than when we clench our fists, gnash our teeth, spew our hate, and cast our stones. Put down your stones. Better yet, gather them up, put chisel to rock and sculpt beauty. Create Venus, or David, or The Thinker. Stack them up and build a dwelling place, or even still, create an altar and sacrifice yourself. Not your life, but your hate, your fear, your judgment, your pride, your selfishness, your bigotry, your need for more. They aren’t really yours anyway. They didn’t come from you, you weren’t created with them, or born with them, they were whispered in your ear early on. This spirit is no longer whispering. It has become a cacophony you cannot escape. It is repeated around the clock in twenty-four hour news cycles. It fills your newsfeed and your timeline. It is even preached in your churches. You cannot escape it, but you don’t have to listen to it. Tune out the symphony of scorn, and listen to the still, small voice of His Spirit. Smash these idols into gravel and use it to pave a path to others, which is the path back to God.
Let them chant. Let them rant. Let them imprison. Let them demolish. Let us rise up and be thankful. Let us rise up and build. Let us hearken to the voice which says “Destroy this temple and I will raise it again.”
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