Think of the word “artist” and several images come to mind.  A goateed man with a beret and a paint brush.  A red-mouthed diva in a glittering gown.  An aging rock star with a rider that includes green M&M’s and Evian bottled water.  The word implies a lot of things.  Talent, excellence, and a level of achievement reserved for people with record contracts or whose work hangs in museums.  But also weirdness, eccentricity, capriciousness, and ego.

The word “artist” seems to be an intimidating word for many, and I find a lot of people reluctant to apply it to themselves.  In short, the word carries a lot of baggage.

I’ve been speaking to a number of people lately who are trying on the word, “artist.”  In various venues, I’ve been talking to people who are exploring what it is to be made in the image of God, the Master Artist who painted the stars, sculpted the planets, formed our beings.  And if it is true that we were made to be creative—to build and explore and express and make art—how does that affect the way we see ourselves?  Can we use the word “artist” to describe the human condition?  Can you use the word to describe you?

continue reading

My church is going to celebrate our 25th anniversary this week.  As you can imagine, we’ve gone through a lot in that time.  We’ve had our celebrations, births, weddings, funerals, baptisms, Christmases and Easters, retreats and advances.  We've met at a storefront, a high school, afternoons at another church, portable buildings, and finally our own performing arts facility built largely with volunteer staff.  There are hundreds of people to whom I have given my heart—in ministry and in life—for a season and for eternity. 

There are decades of memories wrapped up in this celebration, from special private moments with one or two people to countless moments in public congregational intimacy through worship and other artistic expressions.  There have been large numbers of people (numbers known only to God) who have committed their lives to Christ.  I’ve had the privilege of being able to share the creative process with hundreds—maybe thousands—of actors, dancers, musicians, producers, technical artists, poets, painters, graphic artists, recording engineers, writers, photographers, vocalists, artisans, visionaries.  And I have laughed so hard and so long, that I’ve gone to bed with a sore belly.

continue reading

Typically, this blog waxes eloquent on the deeper theological points of faith and the arts. But today, I thought I would just be goofy and share a story about my wife about a dozen years ago.  It is a reminder that we, as artists, should strive toward the greater art—and often, it comes with a price.

In our family, this story is folklore, the kind of tale that has been retold over the dinner table over the course of more than a dozen years.  Or to paraphrase the words of Kung Fu Panda: "Legend tells of a legendary bread maker whose bread making skills were the stuff of legend..."

Day 1: My wife, Debbie, finds a book on baking bread in the bookstore.  She buys it, thinking that she'll save the family money in the long run.  "After all, after a few loaves, it should pay for itself."

continue reading

I know very little about poetry.  Except for the smattering of T. S. Elliot and Edgar Allan Poe in high school, the limericks I read as a kid on the elementary school restroom stalls, and the occasional forays into bad haiku, I really don't know much about it.

There is a young lady at our church, a poet.  In fact, she is such a good poet, she can actually call herself a poet and nobody seems to think that is odd in any way.

I asked her to explain poetry to me once, and her response was a little mind blowing.  She patiently explained that the intent of the arts is to express ideas and emotions that cannot be expressed using words.  The thing about poetry is that you have to use words to express that which cannot be expressed using words.  So the poet employs forms and devices like rhythm, alliteration, metaphor, simile, and other stylistic elements to achieve their art.

continue reading

Entering Into God's Story from Eric Luz on Vimeo.

“Daddy, draw me a horse.”  So begins a scene typical to my home a number of years ago.  One of my twin daughters, Rachel or Paige, would appear beside me with a colored marker pen and a sheet of paper, and ask me to become Artist Daddy.  Now, this not difficult.  Horses, stars, dogs, cats, and flowers are typical requests for little girls, and they measure the quality of my work not by their realism, but by whether or not the characters are smiling. So I accept the challenge.  I take the pen from her delicate fingers, smooth out her tousled paper, and draw.

The result is part caricature, part cave drawing, but she is delighted nonetheless.  “Thanks Daddy,” she will offer politely.  And then she would muse, “Her name is... um... Buttercup.”  And then she would add green grass, a yellow sun in the corner, and eyelashes (because this is how little girls distinguish girl horsies from boy horsies).

continue reading

Talk to anyone who is well-read on the concept of “free will” and you may find yourself discussing any number of heady things, from the five points of Calvinism to the four Spiritual Laws.  In Christian thought, free will is typically associated with our ability to choose to follow or reject God and His grace.  In this sense, it is associated with sin or where you go when you die.  It is a heaven or hell thing. 

But I think that one of the more under-explored aspects of free will is something that defines us as artists: Creativity.

What is creativity anyway?  The word is synonymous with imagination, innovation, originality, individuality, artistry, inspiration. Creativity is a new way to tell a story, a different way to catch a mouse, the silhouette of a new car.  Creativity is a song that makes you tap your foot, or a joke that makes you laugh, or a movie that keeps you on the edge of your seat.  Creativity is the photography of Ansel Adams, or the Wright brothers’ first powered airplane, or a new flavor of ice cream.  Creativity is all of these things.

Human creativity is one aspect of what theologians call “the cultural mandate,” which is essentially our job description here on earth: "be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it."  This cultural mandate includes the blessing to prosper and procreate, to be responsible for the care and stewarding of the earth, to develop societies and invent and explore, and also to create and express ourselves in the created universe.  In this sense, creativity is a vibrant and essential part of our free will.

Creativity happens, in part, because all of us were created to be unique beings.  We all see the world in our own special and distinct ways, and are able to express this view uniquely.  Each of us sees the sunset differently.  Each of us feels sadness differently.  The smell of bacon and eggs in the morning is a distinctly different experience for each of us, because we each bring our senses, preferences, physicalities, and memories to the breakfast table.  

Theologian Jeremy Begbie says in his book, Voicing Creations Praise, “I have argued that the Christian faith presents us with a vision of created existence possessing its own latent orderliness and meaning, and that a crucial part of human creativity is to be attentive to that inherent order, to discover it and bring it to light.”  What I think he is implying is that the act of human creativity is in part the act of revelation, a revelation of God’s creation interpreted through humanity.  

And this is my point: Creativity is one inherent aspect of being made in the image of God.  Creativity is an act of the human soul, where our free will and our personality and our intellect converge. It is a gift from God, imbedded into all of humanity.  And more than that, it is mandated as a part of our purpose here on earth.

continue reading