The value of the work of our hands…
Gary Bradley recently spoke on this topic at the Minneapolis gathering. The following is another reflection by Gary on the work of our hands…
“If I knew the world was going to end tomorrow, I would plant a tree today…” Martin Luther
Psalm 90
12 So teach us to consider our mortality,
so that we might live wisely.
16 Let Your work appear to Your servants
And Your majesty to their children.
17 Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;
And confirm for us the work of our hands;
Yes, confirm the work of our hands.
Psalm 104
24 How many living things you have made, O LORD!
You have exhibited great skill in making all of them;
the earth is full of the living things you have made.
I have been wondering about the culture in which I was formed as a Christian and a few things that do not seem to fit have caused me to ask, “What is the value of the work of my hands?”
First, I have heard that everything is going to burn up and that the earth will dissolve. Is this true? Because if it is, then, this raises the question that perhaps the only things that are useful are those with the greatest utility for right now.
This conclusion would go nicely with the idea that we often hear: people are “resources” rather than uniquely created expressions of the triune Godhead. What about a piece of art, a composition like “the Messiah” or Aaron Copeland’s Appalachian Spring, or any other multitude of expressions? What about your pet dog, Fido, or a well made pair of jeans? What has value if it is all going to burn? These questions wrongly answered drive us to make “Christian art;” they drive people to work at “religious occupations” which do not reflect their first born gifts (as painters, carpenters, web masters, writers, et al).
A similar question that has pushed many to live denying their first born gift is “What really counts for eternity?” The answer often given is: “The souls of men and the word of God.” I agree that they are both of eternal value. But is that all? What about the works of my hands? Do they have eternal value or does all of this life stop at the grave? Such thinking has given rise to the vacuous concept that “art for art’s sake” is a valid motif for making art.
In an immature way I could respond and say “perhaps I should destroy everything that I do because it is all going to burn anyway. I could save God some time at judgment and maybe he would look favorably on me for having seen the fruitlessness of my work.” In my worst dreams I could end up in heaven in a white robe singing Kumbaya.
What do you think is the value of the work of our hands?
July 9th, 2007 at 11:11 am
Randy Alcorn’s book HEAVEN properly debunks, IMO, the “Heaven as clouds and harps” idea. It’s well-written and really opened my eyes to the unBiblical nature of much prominant Heaven theology, although gets a little redundant (like most of his non-fiction).
July 10th, 2007 at 3:35 am
Gary, when you spoke on this at the June event I wasn’t sure how to respond. I like the idea that the work of my hands may somehow transend time and space and bring the Lord pleasure not only now, but forever. However, my fear is that if we get too caught up in this question, we may forget about the passion for which we are created… we were and are created to commune with the Father. What concerns me most is that we, the convinced tend to create structure where no structure is needed. (Or beneficial for that matter.) I think if we will simply concentrate in the passionate love affair with the one true living God, the rest of the details will simply fall ito place. As far as the value of the work of our hands… As I understand scripture our role on this earth is to establish God’s kingdom here as it is in heaven. Whether the actual artistic expressions I am permitted to create on this earth will transend time and space I am not sure. However I am sure that I was created to create. In my opinion, there is no greater form of worship than to do that thing for which I was created. I think of the movie, Chariots of FIre. There is a part in the movie where Eric Liddell says: “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.” I would say that if we will just do that thing that causes us to experience His pleasure, the value will be in the relationship established between we, the Bride of Christ, and the one who created all for His glory.
July 10th, 2007 at 9:45 am
Larry, I am pickin’ up what you are puttin’ down. My only quibble might be with the question of whether or not ‘the work of our hands’ transcends space and time. I think you are right on with the relationship bit, but I would say (and you may too) that it is not about the finite transcending its limitations which makes finite works eternally significant; it is rather, the Infinite’s personal and affective penetrating of the finite which establishes the work of our hands as having eternal (and relational) significance.
July 12th, 2007 at 12:57 am
The idea of one of our works of Art becoming eternal is a horrid thought. Accruing the weight of the Eternal, it would become a God in it’s own right, a dead, un-changing, meaningless God, with no Grace.
But, the idea of the Eternal forever creating Art in a transient, ever-changing medium, is quite wonderful. That to me seems to be what’s going on. Think of creating a sand castle or a gourmet feast. The point would never be to keep it around forever. Even Handel’s Messiah, on an Eternal scale, would eventually have it’s time and disappear. Most probably replaced with something even more wonderful.
Isaiah 65:17 NIV
[ New Heavens and a New Earth ] “Behold, I will create new heavens and a new earth. The former things will not be remembered, nor will they come to mind.
It seems a cruel statement, but I don’t think it diminishes the worth of what came before, it only increases the worth of what’s coming. Every performance I’ve done on stage, every song I’ve played, every photograph I’ve taken, every gourmet meal I’ve cooked is rarely remembered or brought to mind, but they were all worth it.
July 12th, 2007 at 1:44 am
And just to finish up, it seems to that the value of a piece of artwork lies in the relationships the work creates in a viewer/listener. When viewed in that light, the object’s has no inherent value and it’s longevity is irrelevant.
July 14th, 2007 at 10:36 pm
bmk, I smell what you are stepin in. (You and I are on the same page.)
I am not attempting to sound like I oppose Gary’s views, perspective, etc. I am jst saying that I cannot allow myself to spend too much energy contemplating whether or not my art has eternal impact. (My fear would be that Pride would set in, and then I have a monkey on my back.) However, I know that art, in all of its pure forms speaks of the magnificence of our creator. That is true whether the artist even believes in a God, or not. Noone stops and asks the rose bush if it is “Saved”. Yet we all behold the beauty and fragrant aroma of the rose. You can’t escape the simplicty and complexity of its magesty. In my view the awesome raw beauty of a rose speaks to the amazing ability of the one true living God to create. He is the first and purist artist. In the words of Liviu Mocan, “I am more than a sculptor, I am a scuplpture.” http://www.liviumocan.com/ (Of course, I realize, this view is heavily weighted by my belief in and relatioship with the one true living God.) OK, enough soapbox time- I think art is about expressing the magesty and gifting which the Lord hid inside of a falable, imperfect person. It expresses His magnificense whether the artist cares to or not.
July 21st, 2007 at 11:20 am
I just found this post, so I hope I’m not too late to make a useful comment.
It seems what you are struggling with is the value of perishable things. I have struggled with this also, even as a pastor who painstakingly prepares sermons that get less mileage out of them than I care to imagine. “What’s the point?”, I have often asked. What I do is creative and artistic to some degree (I hope I’m not just dreaming!). But God has created perishable things as well. He made the material world that will one day be gone. And He did it to demonstrate His greatness to us and that we would thereby rejoice in it. He did it for His glory and our good.
The passage of Scripture that helps me most when I struggle with the value of perishable things is Psalm 104:24-26. God made innumerable things to play in the sea. He made the dolphins for one reason: to play. Then die. The same thing is true of countless creatures under the sea that no one ever sees, except God. Yet He still made them. Things of indescribable beauty: fish of brilliant color, curious habits, and amazing size. Of course it’s easy to take this and apply it to all that God has made in forests, mountains, deserts as well. That tells me that God places great value even on perishable things of creative expression. He does perishable art! Some of it no one ever even sees. But it is still “good” (think of Genesis 1).
This is what motivates me to do what I do for His glory and leave the extent and duration of it to His good pleasure. So, I create good things out of irresistible urge and out of faith that it is pleasing to God and that He’ll use it for the good of others at His pleasure.
August 4th, 2007 at 8:38 am
The past few weeks have been very busy and with travel added on I have not had a lot of time to comment. But in general I think you all caught the gist of what I was stumbling through. I’m not preoccuopied with the particular destiny of something I have done. I was (and tried to say it) far more commenting on the content and context of our lives (Ie character and product) . Heaven as I anticipate will be much more familiar than an alien environment for which my human existence will be surprised to see. Not to say that there will be much that is new for me but …..well I guess we will have to wait
Gary
September 7th, 2007 at 1:43 pm
It looks like this conversation has largely run its course, but I’m going to comment anyway because I came here today with this very question in mind. I well remember the “souvenier video” from my first week as a camp counselor many years ago. All week I had fought real bugs and imagined bears, herded unruly campers, answered unending questions, looked for lost shoes, and helped scared kids go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I couldn’t wait for them to go home so I could have a weekend off. Then I saw the video: our week, artfully set to music by a young, underpaid videographer. I was there for all that stuff, but I’d never seen it like that: friendships around the campfire glowed with tenderness, zip-lining over the icy lake was high drama, and winning at capture the flag became a soaring triumph. I still needed a meal and a good night’s sleep, but suddenly I wanted to come back next week and do it all again.
I think good art is like that. It shows me more truth about my daily life than I can see while I’m living it. It shows me the glory of the eternal things I take for granted, and the weight of my daily decisions. The life of a saint in a fallen world, not to mention the redemption story itself, is ultimately a grueling perseverence to an exhiliarating come-from-behind win. A finished product that exactly fulfills its purpose - be it Handel’s Messiah or that “well-made pair of jeans” - is an object lesson my heart can read that tells me the story isn’t over, and the end will be grand. Art helps me persevere in faith.
November 12th, 2008 at 8:27 pm
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