Tonight, I treated myself to a TED Talk binge. I was introduced to TED.com in an art class at Michigan, and I soon became hooked on the twenty-minute videos purely devoted to sharing ideas. The most powerful Talk I watched this evening was Brene Brown on the power of vulnerability. Brown, a social services researcher, spent six years studying what separates people with a firm sense of love and belonging from those more encompassed by shame or disconnection, and while I suggest you watch the Talk in its entirety, the idea that felt the most personal to me was this: people who find love and belonging experience connection as a result of authenticity and are willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they are.
The more God shapes me into whomever it is He created me to be, I often feel caught in a struggle between my identity as a Christian and my identity as an artist. I feel like our culture tries to separate the two, as if there's no way a girl with multiple ear piercings, liquid eyeliner, and destroyed jeans could possibly have a serious spiritual relationship with the Christian God. This, of course, is not the case, but as I am developing my image as an artist, I often feel restrained by concerns about what other Christians will think. Not only regarding my visual appearance, but how can I present myself in a way that fosters my artistic instincts and fun-loving personality while reflecting a Christ-like character? Is is possible that it may always take some people longer to see both sides of me because there aren't many Christian artists, per se, or should I make an effort to display the love of Christ more than any other quality?
This one idea that Brown shares packs so many concepts into a single phrase. First, we need to let go of who we think we should be. I have been blessed with a myriad of Christian role models, in particular women whom I can look up to and think, "I want to be like that." Five minutes after meeting them, you can sense their love for God and their desire to live solely for Him. I want to be like that in so many ways, but when I think about these women individually, none of them are like me in non-spiritual ways. I'm so different from my perception of the ideal Christian woman (who, of course, doesn't exist), but I know that that doesn't mean I can't be like my role models; it's just going to look different coming from me.
Second, the goal is to be who we really are. Who I am is certainly a fluid concept at this point in my life, but I know enough to know when I'm not being who I am. I would love to hold nothing back and be my loud, crazy self all of the time, but I often feel inhibited by my desire to come across as the Christian I am and claim to be. I haven't yet mastered the art of being both simultaneously. Or, at least, I think I haven't.
Finally, the first object of letting go of our perceived ideal is the means to the end of being who we are. Not only do we need to do both, but one process has to be complete in order for the other to be fulfilled. I'm not saying that I should completely abandon my desire to immediately come across as a true Christian, but rather, I need to reevaluate my idea of what that looks like. The Christian women I know aren't the only Christian women in the world, and I certainly shouldn't aim to be exactly like them. Now comes the search for what it looks like to be a full-time believer and a full-time artist. Thoughts?
eb
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I hear you, sista. I often find myself wanting to explain myself or wondering what other Christians think of me when I tell them about my job(after all, how many pastor's wives are yoga teachers???). Keeping the Christian socially acceptable physical appearance is also tricky for people like me, whose work attire consists primarily of spandex.
ReplyDeleteThe truth about life on Earth is that the tensions we experience are not only between the church and the world, but they're also within in the church. If we are anything but the norm, we feel like we have to prove we're the real deal, and sometimes it's just easier to conform to the norm than to deal with the judgments and misunderstanding we're afraid we'll have to face.
Once I made a list of the women I admire the most and I wrote down what it was about each of them that inspired me so much, and I ended up with a list like "love for beauty", "love of people", "endless curiosity", "faithfulness", "passionate", "open". For me, those qualities shine through to make those people who they are rather than their interests, jobs, activities they're involved in, etc.
What we want to do is cultivate those qualities, the ones that are more difficult to see than the way you look and the things you do, because those things transcend jobs, hobbies and even personalities.
And just so you know, I'm not worried in any shape or form about your development as an artist who is simultaneously a Christian. You have my full support to be and explore your creative self.
Also, you might appreciate this excerpt from an interview of an artist that goes to our church.
ReplyDeletePart of All Saints' mission is to be a community "extended through cultural engagement", and art is arguably a significant element of culture. In what ways do you see your work as a means of cultural engagement? How has your faith influenced your art and vice versa?
With my work, I hope to speak to universal emotions – feelings of comfort, anxiety, loneliness, and redemption - and therefore engage with others. I also must be involved in the art community, both locally and beyond Austin. These actions of course include sharing the Gospel, often within relationships.
I have a hard time using the title “Christian artist.” Really I am a Christian who makes art, and I should be prepared to fully participate in the (secular) art community. However, the truth is I create because God created me, and I must glorify God with my work. I also have to trust and believe this is what God is calling me to do, despite criticism, discouragement, and seemingly little reward.
Thanks, Rachel! I talked about this with a friend last night, and during our conversation, he considered his spiritual role models and realized that he didn't have all that much in common with them outside of Christianity, either. We decided that God made us the way we are, split personalities and all, purposefully, and gave us the character to be able to use it for His glory.
ReplyDeleteAfter thinking about it some more, I decided that part of the reason being a Christian with a "secular" calling is so difficult is that role models are harder to come by than if we were, say, RUF interns or Christian authors. Not that I won't find one in the future, but I don't currently have a relationship with someone who shares my love for God and my particular artistic inclinations. I have no doubt that God will equip me to be successful regardless, but when I don't have familiar footsteps to follow, I often feel like I'm just making it up as I go along.