The Hinterland

To not invade nor be invaded,
To realise what I am does not need defending
For it is eternal and invulnerable
To stand on the border of you and I
And stand down all the armies that led me here,
Firm and upright and looking you in the eye
To feel the power that flows through me
Yet to know that it will not consume me
Nor will I be tempted to use it irresponsibly,
Nor will I shy away from it such that others will falsley lay claim
And there to balance the polarities in me,
Recognise, be with and then unite,
A masculine feminine red blue left right hot cold composite,
And here to live and breathe,
Connected to my source in joy and release,
Not fixing you nor being fixed,
Not caring nor caring not,
Not rushing on nor rushing back,
Not looking away nor staring down,
But blazing in a neutral glory,
As God intended me to be,
Like a flower opening its petals to the sun,
Giving without ego, receiving without guilt,
Breathing in and breathing out,
Like a tide that ebbs and flows around its core,
And knowing that in this space all who are with me will be with themselves,
All who reach out will be reaching in,
All that could be will forever be,
As gently in forgiveness a healing stream washes through this world.
When we stand together in the hinterland.

I love your last sentence. Yes, there is; if I was less pastoral in my bent, always questing for the widest sense of understanding and nuance, I would do that better. I may be too tortured, on some levels, by my own art, to every welcome anyone unabashedly into this light and dark world I experience.

I think there is a place for a full-bore, unencumbered (ha, you spelled THAT wrong), no holds barred celebration of the sacrament of the art.

I agree.

I think that the point I’m trying to make is not that I object to the caveat or for the need of a caveat at times.

Maybe its my sensitivity to the need to always include some sort of proviso. Do we always have to be so careful of others.

Those churches that serve wine as a part of their sacrament, do so unapologetically. They don’t seem to need to put in a caveat for those who may struggle with the impact its use on their lives.

Is there a place for a full-bore, unincumbered, no holds barred celebration of the the sacrament of the art?

I am not saying that art is intrinsically broken as a moral statement. In addition, it is, in fact, nothing near the premise of my piece. It is said inferentially, and only to nuance, the greater premise. The greater premise is “art is full of glory, and it has a voice through which we were made to speak.” My foundation actually has very little to do with the imperfections of art, but rather its capacity to speak, and heal, and restore, and reimagine.

I’m using the phrase in the same way I would say, “business systems are broken; relationships are broken; preaching is broken; our eye for color is broken; my music is broken; how we build our road systems is broken.”

I’m saying that expressions of human beings are imperfect, and if I enter the world of biblical anthropology, I’m saying that we are all on a run both to God and away.

I’m challenging in my statement the “baby chick syndrome,” where we eat whatever we’re fed without engaging a true and beautiful form of discernment.

I.e. It is a momentary reminder if you will, that art is not to be enjoyed without some lens of discernment. Never would I suggest, or even intimate, that art is intrinsically problematic. The rest of the piece verifies that I was only stating what I felt to be an important caviot – that art flows from beautiful and broken human beings, who make choices, and advocate positions.

So does alcohol, which I happen to like and my friends like more. If I were advocating the glories of beverages, and specifically those of the fermented sort, I would drop in a caviot such as “alcohol is broken” or “coffee is broken” (even as I write that, I may be seeing what you mean – it may need a re-statement – it sounds like a moral judgement according to what comes to mind when one thinks of broken things). I would state the caviot out of respect for those who indulge too much without discernment, and for those who might be more conservative and would think I was advocating alcohol with no sense of its power to overcome our best faculties.

Poor as my attempt might be, I’m attempting to say that art is not neutral; it doesn’t come from a vacuum or a divine airdrop. It comes from somewhere, and that is from you and I. I’d be interested in how I could state this better. The “art is broken” phrase may be the problem. I have no issue with dirty bathwater; that is what bathwater is for. But I will see and embrace the clean baby when we’re finished, and will probably make an artistic metaphor at best out of the bathwater. (I can feel a rabbit trail coming out of that one.)

I’m interested in clarifying this, so I appreciate the challenge.

(Note: For those outside of our immediate community reading this, Mark happens to be one of my dearest friends, and a brilliant thinker, visual artist, and follower of Christ – who happens to make his living as an architect and builder. We both sat on the panel noted in the other blog post.)

I am troubled by one of your starting premises though. “I also believe that most art in our world is broken, to some greater or lesser degree….” While you graciously state that you are “…unwilling to give up the baby for its murky bathwater” it is never-the-less very much the same starting point for many who have led the argument for disengagement.

Your reasoning is solid but I think it is a shaky foundation on which to build.

There is, for example, a parallel discussion to this one that explains why we should not drink alcohol. It is that, …because out of the human state of brokenness, alcohol is misused and in turn becomes a contributing factor to further brokenness and pain. It is because this process of consumption can be so volatile and apparently uncontrollable that alcohol is labeled as being “bad” or “broken” and as a wholesale solution is abstained from. It is true that for some this abstinence is completely necessary and crucial to their health.

I’m not sure I even agree with your argument that follows the “… art is broken…” position but even I did I would caution is may not be a very good place to start.