Creativity is present in each of us

The urge to create lies deep within every human soul. From an early age, children draw ‘pictures’; colourful scribbles that take pride of place on the fridge door for a while. When they start to learn nursery rhymes, they also start making up their own words (real or not) to the tunes. And every parent has felt their heart swell with pride as their child, straight from the craft table, hands them a gluey mess and says ‘I made this for you’. 

As we get older, creativity becomes more structured. We learn ‘art’, ‘music’ and ‘creative writing’ at school, and perhaps in private lessons. The products of our creativity no longer automatically find a place on the fridge door. Instead, we are graded, marked and judged on what we create. Some of us are graded, marked and judged harshly. Some of us are told that we are not ‘talented’, and so we bury and ignore the urge to create. Some of us are told that we are ‘talented’, and the urge to create gets overtaken by the urge to perform, to live up to expectations, and eventually we give up under the pressure. And just a few people never lose the urge, never bury it or let it get overtaken. Those are the people we call artists, musicians, writers, poets. We look up to them. We admire them. And a little part of us wonders if we ever had it in us to be like them, to be as ‘creative’ as they are. 

Many of us find our way back to some form of creativity as we get older. Perhaps as we become less worried about what others think of us, we feel more able to create just for the sake of creating. Perhaps we find that life has become a little grey, and creating brings some much needed colour, or we realise that we are not coping so well with the stresses of life, and we look to a creative activity as a way of relaxing. Some reach retirement, and look to fill their sudden abundance of time with a return to a creative ‘first love’. We accept that, at this stage, we are unlikely to become experts, or professionals, and so we can create for no other reason than enjoyment. 

Having gone through this process, many of us have a creative activity that we see as a ‘hobby’. These activities are many and varied; painting, drawing, pottery, sewing, quilting, card-making, journaling, story-writing, music-making, singing, composing, dancing, poetry-writing, blogging, interior decorating, web designing, baking, gardening… the list goes on and on. Unless we are one of those talented few who succeeded in making careers out of these activities, we see them as fun and relaxing, and therefore mostly unnecessary. They are the first thing to be dropped when life gets busy. The are a way to treat ourselves, rewards even, for when all the ‘necessary and important’ tasks have been completed. 

Is there another way to look at our creative pass-times? Can we learn to see them not as hobbies, or rewards, but as vital practices of faith that reflect a profound aspect of our nature and identity?

Creativity reflects God’s image 

That creative urge in each of us is no accident. It exists in humans because we were created in the image of a creative God. The God who spoke the universe into existence was the first artist. Some would say that God is a scientist or a mathematician rather than an artist, and there is certainly amazing science and incredibly complex math evident in creation. However, science and mathematics are also evident in art; consider for example the ways in which visual artists use natural elements to create colour or texture, or the mathematical precision of a piece of music in an orchestral arrangement. So the creator God’s art is scientifically and mathematically intricate, but it is art none-the-less. The awesome beauty of his creation takes our breath away, moves us, and inspires our own creative moment; the painter wants to capture something of the landscape on canvas, the poet searches for the perfect word to describe not only what he saw, but how he felt as he looked. The urge to create is within us because it was first within God, and the art that we create is a response to the art that God first created. 

Creativity is a practice of faith

When we choose to create art as a practice of faith, we offer our creativity to God in worship. Art has always been used in worship; the use of music and poetry to sing or recite prayers and praises is the most obvious example of this, but there are others. From the very beginning of the history of Israel, God gave instructions for the building of the house where his glory would dwell among his people. Both the earlier tabernacle and the later temple were built, not primarily for practicality but for beauty. Exodus 25-27, and 1 Kings 6 detail the use of rich gold, gorgeous woods, and deep colours, sculptures and decorative pieces. What’s more, God chose specific people to whom he gave the spiritual gift of artistic ability:

 “Then the Lord said to Moses, “See I have chosen Bezalel…, and I have filled him with the Spirit fo God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills — to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.” (Exodus 31:1–5)

The building and decorating of the temple with such care and attention was in itself an act of worship, and the design of churches and gathering-places today should be considered in the same way. Worshipping in beautiful surroundings reminds us of God’s beauty and draws us closer to Him. 

As well as offering our creativity to God in worship, we also offer it to the world in service. Just as God gives us the beauty of his creation and ministers to us through it, we can give to others what we create and allow it to work in their lives. Art, in all its forms, can heal, can refresh a weary, troubled mind, can relax a stressed and anxious body. Art can draw others closer to God in worship, and art can bring a sinner to the place of repentance and forgiveness. The gospel message can be shared through art, and often a resistant heart will open to it when it is presented in this form. C. S. Lewis was a convinced atheist until he read a fantasy novel by George MacDonald, in which he found “a new quality”, which he later identified as holiness (Surprised by Joy). MacDonald’s creative work was the beginning of Lewis’ journey to faith. 

The practice of creating art can also help us in our practice of prayer. We can find new ways to pray as we explore our creativity; we might write a poem that we then use as a prayer, or a piece of music might express something for which we cannot find words. Perhaps as we ask God for the desires of our heart, these desires become the subject of a painting, which we then present to God in silent supplication. I recently attended a retreat during which we baked bread, and as we kneaded the yeast into the dough we prayed for the yeast of the Gospel to spread and work throughout the whole world. Often, as we look for ways to speak to God creatively, we find that God speaks to us in return. We start to draw and find the pencil going a different way than we expected. We start to write and the words seem to come from somewhere outside of ourselves, telling us something new, revealing more of God. 

Creativity transforms us

In creativity we worship, we serve, and we pray. And as we do so, we find ourselves learning, growing, and changing. Our artistic ability improves, and as it does so, we find our worship is deeper, our service is more effective, and our prayers bring us closer to God. But this is just the beginning of the impact that creativity has upon our lives. As we create, we are forced to slow down. The process of creating art requires us to stop and observe, both the world around us and ourselves. This cannot be rushed, or what we create will not be what we want it to be. We have to be patient with the creative process. Sometimes we are inspired to start a piece of art, only to realise half-way through that the inspiration has suddenly run dry, and we have no idea how to finish what we started. Patience is required until the inspiration starts to flow once again. Sometimes we make a mistake in the creative process, and we must learn to be kind to ourselves, to forgive ourselves. We try not to be too harsh a critic of our own work. We learn humility, as something we have created falls short of our initial expectations of it, or as a piece of our art reflects something of our own sin or brokenness, whether we intended it to or not. 

Over time, we start to see the impact of these lessons on the rest of our lives. We become more observant, and so see more easily the need of the person in front of us. We develop patience with those around us, and with God as we wait on him for answers to prayer. We grow in grace and kindness towards others, knowing that we all make mistakes. We forgive quickly. We judge slowly. We walk humbly through the world, unafraid when others see our brokenness. Day-by-day, we become more beautiful, more like the masterpiece that God, the first and greatest artist, created each one of us to be. 

— article by Rachel Spencer