Let’s be honest: for all the talk that’s gone on about it in the Christian community in the last decade or so, faith and popular arts have yet to be reconciled. It’s not for lack of trying: from annual worship arts weekends to academic engagement with the arts at places like Messiah College many churches in the denomination have sought to investigate the intersection of the “secular” or human art with the divine artistry of our Creator.

The discussion on faith and popular art brings up a number of key theological questions. How do we reconcile the artist’s duty to accurately represent the reality of our world—what Christian writer Lauren Winner describes when she suggests that we “cannot fully represent the light without showing the darkness first”—but also adhere to Paul’s admonition to think about “whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable” (Philippians 4:8)?

In the Winter 2003 issue of Shalom!, Steve Hoke took up a discussion of the intersection between worship and art. In “A Balancing Act,” he describes how he has developed as both an artist and a Christian—and how his art serves as a new way to worship, even if he’s had to struggle along the way.

The last of the crawfish in black bean sauce had just slipped from my chopsticks when the question came: “You’re an artist right?” I knew there was more, and I knew my crawfish would get cold, but I dove in with a solid “Yep.” As I had expected the chopsticks were laid down and a conversation far thicker than the black bean sauce began. My friend wanted to know how I could balance my Christian beliefs with the assumed beliefs of the artistic community.

The first part of the conversation that needed attention was two basic assumptions: first, that my Christian beliefs were the same as hers, and second, that the artistic community was devoid of them. Interestingly enough, she had excluded me from the second community but lumped me with the first.

I think it’s fair to lump me with the first group. I am a Christian, have been for a while. Youth group, worship teams, Messiah College, trips overseas, and several other touchstones are on my Christian resume to solidify the commitment. As for the second community, theater productions, performance installations, and even music shows in…brace yourself… bars have created a solid professional resume. With all of this involvement I have been prompted several times to consider
the balancing question. That question normally starts with the issue of time management. Then the issues become more obscure, such as: is this environment good for me to be a part of daily? will I drink heavily if I go to bars? will I succumb to an unhealthy lifestyle? Each new decision brings more information to add to the discussion and still no strong answers.

But there has been one strong change over the past three years. I have been shown a community that not only encourages the question of balance, but also expects to find a solution. Circle of Hope, the Brethren in Christ contingent in Philadelphia, has welcomed me and then asked me to be an artist. They have invited me to be artistic not only in the music, readings, or visual art that happen during our worship meetings, but they have expected that I be an artist in the rest of my time as well. Professors at Messiah introduced the idea of holistic education, and some modeled the attitude that all of life can be intertwined and still be honestly following Christ’s guidance. But few of my professors expected as much of me as my friends at Circle.

The body at Circle lets me know what they expect from their questions and use of time. They want to know where I am playing, where my art is happening, and how they can support me. All of this seems very natural. There is nothing new or strange about having my friends from church interested in my life and how I use my time. All through my growing up years I was surrounded by people from church supporting and encouraging my new ideas and activities. During the high school band years there were always plenty of church friends that kept informed and came to support us. Then when I began playing at coffee shops and through college, people continued to ask how things were going. All this is to say that being supported by the church in my art is not something that has begun only in the past three years. However, compared to my time in the Carlisle congregation, my time at Circle has introduced me to some new ideas.

Words like integrity and accountability might be used to describe what Circle has done for me, but those words are too thick. Circle has simply created one community. We have quietly, but distinctly, mixed the assumptions of Christian beliefs and artistic pursuit. The two seemingly different communities that I have participated in for years now no longer have walls between them. Actually the Christian artists meet together several times a week.

The other strong point that Circle has helped me realize is that these ideas are in no way new. I have been introduced to more from Francis Schaeffer, T. S. Eliot, and C. S. Lewis. Certainly my time in college introduced me to these people, but I didn’t pay much attention.

But back to the crawfish growing cold on my plate and the question of balance sitting precariously beside my chopsticks. After reflecting on the question, I have made an assumption of my own. I think my friend’s real question was, “Am I allowed to question all of these things that feel so basic to my beliefs?” I noticed a nervousness in her words that makes me think she wants to know more but does not feel ready. From what I know of her background, art has been dealt with like cards and movies on Sundays, an unclear and dangerous place to be, so why should
we put ourselves in harm’s way.

I think my parents protected me from harm while still letting me see it. My art, and the process of discovering myself as an artist, has brought many of these unanswerable questions. Instead of their becoming issues that might invite harm, they have become questions that I thrived on through school and still enjoy wresting with till dawn. I think it’s important to note that I am in my mid-20s and have just begun to learn that I do not know everything. Hard to understand, I know!

However, I have come to some comforting balance points. The realization that I am in a community that is willing to support me through my search and failure is more than just reassuring. That simple support is almost on par with the knowledge that all things are possible with God. I am pretty sure that those two points work together. But a different side of the balancing agent is the background that has grown me. I come from Christian roots; my grandfather has been praying for years that I find a career. Keep praying, Grandpa!

Attending a Christian college that appropriately sheltered me while I first explored these new ideas and artistic identity was certainly helpful. Now with the body at Circle to encompass me, I am able to walk out into new places and search for deeper answers. I am comfortable to be challenged, to challenge my community, and to seek out new members for the community.

So, have I balanced my Christian beliefs with those of the art community? Maybe not, but I have been part of creating a community that is equipped to walk up and get in the discussion. I am also now able to recognize and be comfortable in the tension that a search for balance poses. The question of balance is ongoing and best left to several more dinners and conversations. Even if I mix conversations with plenty of prayer, reading other thinkers, and living in a community that will let me know if I am being honest, I think the tension of balance will still be real. However, the instability will no longer be a source of fear, but instead a daily reminder to maintain focus. For now I will keep time open for dinner and hope to finish the present conversation before the food is cold.

This article originally appeared in the Winter 2003 issue of Shalom!, which focuses on the arts and the church. Download the entire issue (PDF)>

WELCOME