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 Faith-filled Witness |
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7
May 2006 Susan Pearcy shared an article with me that begins, "When Michelangelo carved his Pieta from marble and J.S. Bach composed his sacred cantatas, it was common for artists to work for churches. But with the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century came a distaste for religious icons and pomp and circumstances. The fine arts went dormant in many Christian churches."[1] The article continues with the story of Vietnamese-born Minhhang K. Huynh, who says painting crucifixes and saints worked on her spirit, eventually leading her to adopt Christianity. Within this congregation, strangers comment on this stunning Easter cross, on the banners that give expression to our faith. Susan Pearcy draws and paints, sharing generously of her drawings for our special services bulletins during Holy Week. Bernard Brookes and Trevor Scheuneman give poetic and musical expression to that intersections of the sacred and human experience. These artists are built up when they use their gifts to express the faith within them. But the great part is theat the same holds true for us. Like the old folk-hymn has it, "love is something when you give it away, you end up having more." This is the dynamic of faith. Every time any one of these artists share the fruits of their work, we both are built up. Our faith stands on the shoulder of others. If we don't share that faith, it dies within us, and the very God-given gifts meant to nurture faith are left to blow in the wind. But when our faith is alive within us, we find ways to give that faith expression. In his first letter to the Corinthians, the apostle Paul writes that we receive spiritual gifts for the building up of Christ's body. God doesn't give us these gifts just to improve our self-esteem-although when they are utilized in God's service, that certainly is a by-product. But the primary purpose of our spiritual gifts is so that they can be used to build up Christ's body, the church. Last week, my friend Bev and I visited a new tea shop that opened in Frederick. Blanche, the owner, was welcoming and gracious; her tea was excellent; her pastries sublime. It didn't take much in the way of cordialities to learn something of her story. She'd loved tea cups even as a child, and several years ago, started collecting them, but with no particular purpose in mind. Then she was asked by the owners of Old Town Teas if she was interested in buying the business. Meanwhile she'd been praying for God to lead her in the paths of righteousness-for God to show her which decisions were in keeping with God's desires for her life. That kind of clarity isn't always easy to come by-at least for those of us in this end of the faith spectrum. Personally, I find myself helped by the short prayer, Lord, help me to do what you are blessing. It's quite different than asking God to bless what we are doing. I think that comes closer to the mark of what it means to be led in paths of right Blanche clearly is doing what God is blessing. She is creating a place of renewal in a tea house called Serenity, and it is blessed. We are tempted to believe that the sign of God's blessing is that everything is sweetness and light-that everything is coming up roses. But the psalmist says otherwise. Today's psalmist is that often-troubled poet-king whose dysfunctional family dynamics make our own families at least no worse by comparison. Today's psalmist is no less than the giant-slayer shepherd boy David, no less than the jubilant king David, no less than the adulterer David, no less than the murderer David, no less than the warrior David who sees his sons rise to challenge him in a palace coup and battles royal. Our psalmist is keenly aware of life's realities. It is from within these realities that David's magnificent poem and song to God finds expression. God may bring us to places where our souls are restored, but we still must walk that valley of shadows and evil. God may set a table for us in the midst of conflicted relationships and mark us with the oils of anointing, shielding us from possible contamination, but we still must find our center within those conflicted relationships. The stuff of life is the stuff of faith, and the poet, the artist does not shy away, but leads us through its very heart. Reflect for a moment on the importance of that single psalm in our Judeo-Christian faith tradition, that single expression of the spiritual gifts of a man of faith named David. And then consider how impoverished we would be if he had never shared that single gift of the spirit, that single psalm. Whether we are David or Michaelangelo or J.S. Bach or Bernard Brooks or Susan Pearcy, or someone whose gift is a passion for justice such as William Sloan Coffin, or Martin Luther King, Jr., or someone whose gift is the mercy of a Mother Teresa, but we are, each of us, gifted by God. And we are called by that same God to build one another in faith by giving witness to the gifts that are ours. *** |