As an artist and someone who's been compelled by art, I believe that anything we encounter can spiritually move us. Consider God's masterpiece of life -- nature, bare feet on the earth, selfless service, laughter; such beauties reveal deeper truths to us because they are moments made of something deeper. They aren't overtly religious actions, but everyday life where God speaks. In things as small as an ant crawling over your leg, God is there, and so is the opportunity to wonder.
Because we are made in God's image, humans also create art. So much of what we make stems from longing for the beauty already perfected, but from this striving, any form of painting or music or literature can facilitate a spiritual encounter. The art might be so captivating that we must stop and stare. It may also be shocking, challenging us to perceive the world in a new way. Art invites us to reflect, even become honest with our own selves.
"Sacrament" by Alden Nowlan is one such poem for me. Even though I first read it over a year ago, it still sticks with me, humbles me. It goes a little something like this:
God, I have sought you as a fox seeks chickens,
curbing my hunger with cunning.
The times I have tasted your flesh
there was no bread and wine between us,
only night and the wind beating the grass.
In an address to God, the poet turns rigid religious rituals into a haunting encounter. It is reflection and confession which comes from a desperate place. I recognize this same location in myself. As a result, even though I am not reading canonical Christian scripture, these are words which carry me into a spiritual encounter. I stop and ask myself: When I seek you, Lord, what is my motivation? When I need you most, where do I find you, and what kind of communion occurs?
Many times in my life, I've reached my wit's end out in the woods, the outdoors being where I most viscerally find God and admit my pride, even how much I've tried to use God, gnawing at him in ways that do not satisfy. If a sacrament is a sharing of grace, and if communion is a sharing of oneself, then ceremonies only scratch the surface of true connection. For me, the language of this poem reminds me that faith is made up of intangible things such as light and wind. And words, artful words, honest words we rarely admit.
Perhaps Nowlan's poem doesn't speak to you in the same way. That's the wonderful thing about art -- we each create from a different desperate center of ourselves, and so different works will resonate with each person. So what speaks to you? Have you ever seen a clip of film, a photograph, a sculpture, something that has moved your spirit?
Or how about your own creation? Have you ever made art from the center of yourself, a personal spiritual encounter you also facilitated for others? Even in works of complete fiction, these are spaces for honesty we never even knew we needed, all made possible by God's creative nature in us.
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