Mrs. Slessor and Mrs. White were probably frustrated. If they weren’t, they almost certainly must have been bemused. These two ladies were responsible for teaching art to Grade 6 and Grade 7 students at Maple Grove Public School. Art is not my forte. I can barely draw a straight line with a ruler. Yet week after week they persevered as they instructed us on the proportions of the human face, of a flower, or of a horse’s neck. For me, no art project was ever completed. “Take it home and finish it there” was code for “throw it into the nearest garbage can.” I did.
While I have virtually no skill in the visual art department, over the years my appreciation for art has grown. I began to understand that painting a picture isn’t just about capturing a moment (take a photo - it’s quicker, easier, and more accurate). I started to realize that the great artists of the world are actually telling stories through their work.
For our 25th wedding anniversary Sharon and I toured around England. While there we popped in on Her Majesty (unfortunately, there was a breakdown in communication, and she forgot we were coming so we didn’t get to actually see her). She was kind enough, though, to allow us to wander through some of the state rooms in Buckingham Palace. We had one of those self-guided handsets that explain the significance of the various artifacts. Several pieces of art were included in that tour, and I was intrigued by the subtle messages (propaganda?) behind so many of these historic paintings. The artists would draw the viewers’ attention to certain details while minimizing others. Underachievers were made out to be heroes. Scoundrels became saints. Unless you know the full story, the images would lead you to conclusions that were not historically accurate. It all depended on who commissioned the painting.
This was not the first time my appreciation for art was transformed. While studying in Bible college, I was introduced to the concept of the Bible being literature. I learnt how the ancient authors crafted their writing using tools such as chiasms (balancing their writing around a central theme or point) and acrostics (using the sequence of alphabetic letters to start each line - see Psalm 119). They wrote in styles familiar to their original audience - epic narratives, love songs, poetry, even genealogies. Figures of speech like metaphors (“I have engraved you on the palm of My hands” - Isaiah 49:16) or similes (“He is like a tree planted by streams of water” - Psalm 1:3) are common word-art tools that capture our hearts as well as our minds.
There are vivid word pictures help us feel the message of the words. This text about the Messiah emphasizes His gentle yet perseverant nature all while delivering a message of hope:
Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him;
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
or make it heard in the street;
a bruised reed he will not break,
and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice. (Isa. 42:1-3 ESV)
It is immediately preceded by this well-loved poem about God’s protection and provision:
Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
his understanding is unsearchable.
He gives power to the faint,
and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary,
and young men shall fall exhausted;
but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
they shall walk and not faint. (Isa 40:28-31 ESV)
The psalms are filled with graphic images of sorrow (“my bed is drenched with tears” - Psa. 6) and celebration (“Praise Him with the tambourine and dance, praise Him with strings and pipe!” - Psa. 150). There are psalms of thanksgiving (Psa. 100), of forgiveness (Psa. 51) and of comfort (Psa. 42). Let’s be honest: some of those images go way beyond our comfort zone for 21st century western Christianity!
All of this reminds us that we can’t read the Scriptures like a dictionary of theology. It is a compilation of the world’s best and most carefully curated works of literary art. Just as we don’t need to be adept at creating art to appreciate art, we don’t need to be master scribes in the order of Shakespeare to appreciate the beauty of these ancient wordsmiths. With a little careful guidance (there is always the danger of letting our imaginations go where the original authors never intended us to go) we can enter the rich world of images, places, and people which bring depth to the text as inspired by the Spirit of God.
Pause and consider how an eagle soars. Think about how easily a candle can be extinguished. Feel the loneliness of the psalmist in Palm 6. Let your chest resonate to the pounding of the instruments in Psalm 100. Our engagement with the Scriptures - as is our engagement with God Himself - integrates the whole of who and what we are. Close your eyes and see/smell the rich green valley with a quiet stream of Psalm 23.
Yes, the Apostle Paul articulates these truths with careful detail and logic. His - and others - careful articulation of doctrine establish clarity for understanding the truths of God. Yet our faith is not relegated to cognitive definitions alone. We can also engage with truth as we would view the brushstrokes of a da Vinci, Monet, or Rembrandt. The art of the biblical text is commissioned by God to help us know and feel the beauty of the love and grace extended toward us.
