sculpture by candace knapp/
photo by björn andrén
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The Imagination as a Means of Grace
by leland ryken
Christians distrust the arts for two reasons, claimed Charlie Peacock as we conversed in my office. They distrust the arts not only because their theology is inadequate but also because they misconceive the nature of art.
The evidence for this diagnosis is everywhere around us. "How could
a nocturne or one of 
Rodin's sculptures be true?"
asked a Christian philosopher in an article attacking me for the views I
am about to present in this article. In fact, the author linked me with
"enemies of Christianity" such as "murderous abortionists
and criminals of all types."
In a sermon I heard recently, the minister claimed that the portrait of God as a storm god (a literary motif that he did not name) in Psalm 97 is based on allusions to the Exodus and is "not mere window dressing," that is, metaphoric. As I observed to this preacher later, he used a metaphor in his denigration of metaphor as "mere window dressing."
Imagination and the arts do not receive the respect in Christian circles that they deserve. In many cases they are under siege within the church. My aim in this article is to counter a heresy that rules vast segments of evangelical Christianity. That heresy is to defend a neglect of the imagination and the arts on the ground that we must be busy in God's work, assuming that God's work is never artistic. Yet the Bible itself, to say nothing of the creation in which we live, shows that God's work is artistic.
I have entitled my article "The Imagination as a Means of Grace." Let me defuse the title, in case it is an unnecessary red flag. I do not intend to claim that the imagination is exactly the same in its function as the Christian sacraments, though it has long been recognized by Christian aestheticians that analogies and connections exist between works of art and the Christian sacraments. A means of grace, as I use the phrase, is anything in our lives by which God makes his truth and beauty known to us, and correspondingly anything in our lives by which God's presence becomes a reality to us. In countering the heresy that God's work excludes involvement in the arts, I wish to appeal to three great biblical principles.
Creation
The first is the doctrine of creation. The Bible begins by telling us that
God created the world. And what kind of world did God create? A world
that is beautiful and artistically pleasing. We know that simply by looking
around us. But in case we don't trust our senses, 
the Bible tells us the same thing. In Genesis 1 we read that
God looked at what he had created, and, "Behold, it was very good."
The Psalmist writes that the creation proclaims God's handiwork (Ps. 19:1),
implying that handiwork has value. We read in Genesis 2 (vs. 9) that when
God planted Paradise, he made to grow "every tree that is pleasant
to the sight, and good for food." A double criterion, please note--one
utilitarian, the other artistic. The conditions for human well-being have
never changed since that moment in Paradise. Can you justify the time
spent reading a novel or writing a poem or song or visiting an art gallery
or attending a concert? In a Christian scheme of things, you can.
Not only did God create the world, he also created people in his own image. What does this mean? We first read about the image of God in people in the creation story. What do we know about God when we first read in the Bible that he made people in his image? We as yet know nothing about the God of providence or redemption or the covenant. The one thing that we know about God is that he creates. In its immediate narrative context, therefore, the doctrine of the image of God in people emphasizes that people are, like God, creators.
A well-known evangelical, when serving as a referee for one of my book manuscripts, wrote a marginal comment about "the trivial view that God's image in people is a matter of creativity." Is this the impression we get when reading Genesis 1? It is in fact an evidence of the very heresy I have mentioned.
What does the image of God in people say about the arts? It affirms human creativity as something good in principle, since it is an imitation of one of God's own acts and perfections. Someone once wrote, "As image-bearer of God, [people possess] the possibility both to create something beautiful, and to delight in it (Kuyper 142). Christian poet Chad Walsh once wrote that the artist "can honestly see himself as a kind of earthly assistant to God..., carrying on the delegated work of creation, making the fullness of creation fuller" (308). This applies equally to those who are not themselves creative artists but who delight to enter into the creativity of others. And it stands as a rebuke to those who disparage God's gift of creativity in people.
This, then, is one foundation for thinking Christianly about the arts: the Christian doctrine of creation assures us that human creativity can be honoring to God. God himself created a world that is artistically beautiful and delightful as well as utilitarian.
The Intrinsic Value of Art
A second biblical principle is that works of art have value in themselves, simply as objects of beauty and artistry. We should notice first that the Bible makes no division of art into sacred and secular. Art has equal value in an everyday setting and in worship. In the Bible we read not only about songs sung in worship at the temple but also ones sung in the everyday circumstances of work without direct reference to anything religious (Num. 21:16-18; Is. 16:10; Is. 52:8-9). The Song of Solomon is a collection of love lyrics that keeps the focus on human love and does not explicitly bring God or spiritual values into the picture. The Bible records a patriotic elegy by David about national heroes that does not mention God. Many of the stories in the historical narratives of the Old Testament have no obvious religious purpose.
As an extension of the unwillingness to divide art into sacred and secular, the Bible also refuses to make the value of artistic form depend on a religious content in works of art. Consider the many references in the Psalms and elsewhere to instrumental music without accompanying words. Can this be legitimate, even in worship? Yes, it can. If you doubt it, read Psalm 150, where musical sound alone is said to praise God when it is offered to him as an act of worship. The writer of that psalm enjoins us, "Praise the Lordwith the trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp! Praise him with timbrel and dance; . . . praise him with sounding cymbals; praise him with loud clashing cymbals!"
The descriptions of visual art that adorned the Old Testament tabernacle and temple are a gold mine of information about the arts, and one of the important things we learn is that the art that God prescribed for these religious places was not always specifically religious in its content. In regard to the Old Testament temple, note that it was the nation's chief art gallery, concert plaza, and poetry library. There was a wealth of realistic or representational art in the temple that symbolized nothing specifically religious. The pillars of the temple were decorated with pomegranates and lilies, and the stands for the brass lavers with lions, oxen, and palm trees.
Given the stereotyped notions of "sacred art" that often prevail in Christian circles, this is mildly offensive, is it not? As the Old Testament worshipers stared at the lampstand, they saw, not angels and cherubim, but things of natural beauty"flowers and blossoms. What are we to make of this exuberance over the forms of nature in the most holy places of Old Testament worship? Above all it undercuts any sacred-secular dichotomy for art. Whatever God created is a suitable subject for the artist. If God made the flowers and sky, they are worth painting or carving.
Most surprising of all, given current stereotypes, was the presence of abstract or nonrepresentational art in the tabernacle and temple. By nonrepresentational art I mean art that represents nothing beyond itself, like a Persian tapestry. As the Old Testament worshipers approached the temple, they saw two gigantic freestanding pillars over 25 feet high. These monoliths had no architectural weightbearing function. They did not resemble anything in created nature. There were simply beautiful and suggested by their very size and form the grandeur, stability, and power of God. They also made the worshipers feel small as they stood beside them, and this, too, made a religious statement in a purely artistic, nonverbal way.
What does it all add up to? The artistic imagination is free to be itself. What it produces under the guidance of God is good in itself. The robe of Aaron tells us that. We read that the embellishment of Aaron's priestly garment was "for glory and for beauty" (Exodus 28:2). We should note that: beauty and artistry are worthy in themselves.
Some of the art in the Old Testament was realistic, but there was no requirement that it had to be so. The decorations on Aaron's garment included blue pomegranates. What's so unusual about that? you ask. In nature there are no blue pomegranates. The artifact at the temple that most intrigues me is the molten sea (1 Kings 7:23-26). It was a huge circular basin 45 feet in circumference and holding up to 10,000 gallons of water. Under the brim were engravings of gourds. The whole grand design rested on the backs of twelve statuesque oxen. Now where in the real world can we find a sea held up on the backs of oxen? It is an utterly fantastic conception, all the more delightful for its imaginary qualities.
Some of the literature in the Bible is equally fantastic. In a single short chapter of Zechariah, for example, we read about a flying scroll that destroys the wood and stones of houses, a woman named Wickedness sitting inside a cereal container, and two women with wings like those of a stork who lift the container into the sky. Francis Schaeffer has rightly written, "Christian artists do not need to be threatened by fantasy and imagination. . . . The Christian is the really free person . . . whose imagination should fly beyond the stars" (61).
An additional reason for believing that works of art have value in themselves emerges when we read about the vocation and gifts of the artist. Two key passages in Exodus 31 and Exodus 35 describe how God called and equipped the artists who worked on the tabernacle. We read there that God called the artists, filled them with his Spirit, inspired them with artistic ability, and stirred them up to do the work. We get the impression from these passages that the artist's calling is glorious. Unlike what often happens in Christian circles today, the artist's vocation was not regarded as suspect or second best. When people write a story or paint a picture or compose a piece of music, they are exercising a gift of God. What they produce is deserving of our enjoyment and celebration.
This, then, is a second way in which to think Christianity about the arts: the Bible affirms that the artistic imagination and its creations have value in themselves, not simply for the religious or ideational content they may contain. The arts do not need to be defended, as people throughout history have felt obliged to defend them, as something other than art. They have integrity for what they are in themselves.
In our Christian circles we find a place for the arts as an aid to worship, but not often as an act of worship. Yet 91 out of 107 references to music in the Psalms specify God as the audience of music (Topp 13). The principle that emerges from this is significant for the arts: anything offered to God can become an act of worship. This means that our artistic experiences, whether as creators or participants, can be an act of worship--a means of grace.
The Truth of the Imagination
Thus far I have spoken of how the Bible endorses artistic creativity and encourages us to believe that artistic form and beauty have value in themselves as gifts from God. We might view this as the nonutilitarian side of the artistic imagination. But the imagination is useful as well as delightful. This brings us to the question of truth in art, or the imagination as a vehicle for expressing truth. This, too, is a value of the arts. The imagination can express truth in its own unique way for the glory of God and the edification of people. Before I defend that statement, I need to delineate what this unique way of expressing truth is. The imagination images forth its subject matter. It does not work primarily by abstractions and propositions but by concrete images and experiences and sensations. As G. K. Chesterton put it, "Imagination demands an image" (37). The arts take concrete human experience rather than abstract information as their subject.
How can we be certain that the imagination can express truth? We can look at the example of the Bible. The Bible is overwhelmingly literary in its form. The one thing that it is not is what we so often picture it as being--a theological outline with proof texts attached. When asked to define "neighbor," Jesus told a story. He constantly spoke in images and metaphors: "I am the light of the world;" "you are the salt of the earth." The Bible repeatedly appeals to the intelligence through the imagination. Its most customary way of expressing God's truth is not the sermon or theological outline but the story, the poem, the vision, and the letter, all of them literary forms and products of the imagination.
Think of how much biblical truth has been incarnated in character and event. Then recall the poetry of the Bible, including the heavy incidence of image and metaphor in the prose of the New Testament. The point is not simply that the Bible allows for the imagination as a form of communication. It is rather that the biblical writers and Jesus found it impossible to communicate the truth of God without using the resources of the imagination. The Bible does more than sanction the arts. It shows how indispensable they are.
Earlier I noted the prominence of music and visual art in the worship described in the Bible. If we doubt that truth can be embodied in visual, nonpropositional form, we need only look at the Christian sacraments. They use physical images that enable us to experience spiritual realities.
We know that the imagination is a vehicle of truth from sources other than the Bible. Recent brain research shows that the two hemispheres of the human brain respond to stimuli and assimilate reality in different ways. The left hemisphere is active in logical thinking, grasping abstract propositions, and dealing with language. The right hemisphere is dominant in processing visual and other sensory experiences, in seeing whole-part relationships, in grasping metaphor and humor, and in experiencing emotion. The arts and the imagination are essentially right-brain media. We need to express and receive God's truth with the right brain as well as the left.
The tendency of our evangelical subculture is overwhelming to assume that truth is conceptual and propositional only. But the arts, with their emphasis on imagination, remind us that there is a whole other type of truth, or at least a whole other way by which people assimilate and know the truth. Just compare the experiences of listening to a Christmas sermon on the theological meaning of the incarnation and listening to a performance of Handel's Messiah. We need both approaches to the truths of our faith.
We erroneously think that our world view consists only of ideas. It is a world picture as well as a world view, that is, set of ideas. It includes images that may govern our behavior even more than ideas do. Hebrews 11:1 defines faith propositionally as "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." This is one way by which we can know the truth about faith--the way of theological abstraction. But our understanding of faith is also based on images of the characters and stories of faith that Hebrews 11 proceeds to evoke.
A Christian world view consists of the doctrines of the Apostles' Creed, but equally important is the Christian world picture that guides our life. We are influenced in our Christian lives by pictures of Cain and Abel, Mary and Martha, Ruth and Boaz, as well as doctrines of providence and justice. The Westminster Confession of Faith defines providence thus: "God the Creator of all things doth uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest even to the least, by His most wise and holy providence." That is one way to grasp providence. Psalm 23 fills our imaginations with the images that comprise the daily routine of a shepherd and his sheep. That is another way by which we grasp providence.
After the Fall
Let me guard against possible misunderstanding by making the following qualification to my enthusiasm for the arts and the artistic imagination as one of God's great gifts to the human race. The imagination and the arts did not escape the effects of the Fall. The imagination is neither more nor less depraved than the mind, the will, and the emotions. Works of art should not be regarded as immune from moral and theological critique, though--do I dare say it?--artists often seem to think what they produce is above ordinary canons of theological truth and morality.
When Amos paints a picture of a morally degenerate society living an indulgent and trivial lifestyle, he chooses music as his evidence (Amos 6:4-5). Isaiah has a similar passage (Isaiah 5:11-12). Literature does not escape biblical stricture, either. The New Testament epistles contain multiple negative references to myths (1 Timothy 1:4; 4:7; 2 Timothy 4:4; 2 Peter 1:16).
Nor do the visual arts escape criticism in the Bible. Aaron fashioned a golden calf "with a graving tool" (Exodus 32:4), meaning that it was an artistic achievement, and as we know, it was an ignominious chapter of idolatry in the spiritual history of Israel. We might notice, incidentally, the exact form of perversion implicit in this event. I doubt that Aaron had a latent propensity to worship pagan idols. It seems rather to have been a matter of his catering to the demands of an ignoble audience. I say that because when Moses confronted his brother on the matter, Aaron explains, "They said to me, 'Make us gods,'" and Aaron pandered to their tastes (Ex. 32:23).
A final biblical reminder that art and imagination can be a means of carnality as well as a means of grace occurs in the opening chapter of Romans, which traces with sordid detail the downward spiral of the human race from being Godfearing to being sensual and idolatrous. The melancholy degeneration of the race expressed itself partly in its art forms, as people "exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images resembling mortal man or birds or animals or reptiles" (1:23). Some of this art was exquisite, as attested by specimens we see in the antiquities sections of some of our finest museums.
So when I speak of the imagination as a means of grace, I speak not of what it universally and automatically is but of what it ideally is and can be in a Christian's experience. If I extol the possibilities of the artistic imagination's being a means of grace, I also agree with the claim of Aldous Huxley that "as a matter of plain historical fact, the beauties of holiness have often been matched and indeed surpassed by the beauties of unholiness" (52). And of C. S. Lewis that "culture is not everyone's road into Jerusalem, and for some it is a road out" (23). And of John Henry Newman that "it is a contradiction in terms to attempt a sinless Literature of sinful man" (174). But it is important to realize that we are speaking here of the abuse of something that is good in principle. If the arts can be perverted, so can the sacrament of communion--witness Paul's rebuke to the Corinthian church (1 Corinthians 11:17-22).
To return to my positive thrust, then, the imagination, though capable of fallen ends and means, remains in principle one of God's good gifts to the human race, to Christians individually, and to the Church. It was intended to be, and it can still be, a means of grace.
Inviting the Imagination
I turn, in conclusion, to some applications of these principles to our lives as Christians. In view of the Bible's endorsement of the arts, I think the church needs to affirm artists and their work much more than it typically does. We need to show from the pulpit and the Sunday school podium and in small group studies and by our conversation and actions that we believe the arts to be important. Everyone has an imagination. Some Christians have sat in the pew for years and never been told that their God-given imagination is good.
One of my colleagues has several times conducted an informal poll in his art classes. He asks how many students can say that in their families any of the arts was talked about and regarded as important. The percentage of such families is exceedingly small. Then when my colleague inquires into the matter more precisely, he finds that in the overwhelming number of cases either the families in which the arts are considered important are non-Christian families, or the affirmation of art is something that preceded conversion to Christianity.
Art, music, and literature deserve a more prominent place in our churches than they currently have. They deserve to be in the bulletin and church service and Sunday school class and gallery or narthex. We need artists' nights when church members display their own visual art or photography, read their own poems or stories, and perform music. We see far too little of the artists' gifts in our churches.
All of this is in sharp contrast to what we find in the worship described in the Bible, where the arts were flaunted to a degree almost unheard of today. The idea of the beauty of holiness does not mean much in contemporary worship. The Christian church has been guilty of a great abdication. We cannot all be artists, but we can all respect and participate in the art that others create. The Christian church must be active on every front in our society--in science, in economics, in education, in politics, in the arts, in the media. God gave his followers a cultural command as well as a missionary command. We should not set these up as rivals. To relinquish our presence in any cultural area only weakens the Christian voice in our culture as a whole and makes evangelism all the more difficult. Our attitude toward the arts says something about the God we proclaim, and I fear that we often send the wrong signal to our culture.
In addition to valuing the arts more than we do, I believe that we need to acknowledge more fully that the imagination is a leading means by which we know and express the truth. When we turn from the pages of the Bible to our evangelical subculture today, we cannot help but be struck by the contrast in this regard. In our circles the theological abstraction and outline have replaced the imaginative boldness of the writers of the Bible. We no longer trust the power of metaphor or paint on canvas or musical sound to express the truth. Jesus did not distrust the imagination. He told stories and spoke in metaphor. Mark tells us in his Gospel that "with many such parables [Jesus] spoke the word to them . . . ; he did not speak to them without a parable" (4:33-34).
As Christians we need to believe that a painting or piece of fiction can be as truthful to life, and to the Christian view of life, as a sermon or religious article can be. The movie Chariots of Fire is as truthful an expression of Eric Liddle's Christian faith as a biography of him is. Handel's Messiah combines sound with words to capture the truth about redemption. Rembrandt's painting of the prodigal son expresses the truth of God's forgiveness in visual form. John Bunyan captures the reality of the spiritual life in the story of a fictional character's journey through a physical and symbolic landscape. Theologian H. Richard Niebuhr correctly said that "we are far more image-making and image-using creatures than we usually think ourselves to be." We "are guided by images in our minds," adding that the human creature "is a being who grasps and shapes reality . . . with the aid of great images, metaphors, and analogies" (151-2, 161).
To sum up, the Bible, as our supreme embodiment of the truth by which we need to live, and as our supreme model to follow in our own efforts at expressing God's truth and beauty, communicates God's truth and beauty in all possible ways. It does so, moreover, with obvious artistry. We need to lay to rest the heresy that God's work is never artistic.
Works Cited
Chesterton, G. K. The Spice of Life and Other Essays. Beaconfield: Darwen Finlayson, 1964.
Huxley, Aldous. Brave New World. New York: Harper and Row, 1958.
Kuyper, Abraham. Calvinism. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1943.
Lewis, C. S. Christian Reflections. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1967.
Newman, John Henry Cardinal. The Idea of University. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962.
Niehbuhr, H. Richard. The Responsible Self. New York: Harper and Row, 1963.
Schaeffer, Francis A. Art and the Bible. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1973.
Topp, Dale. Music in the Christian Community. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1976.
Walsh, Chad. "The Advantages of the Christian Faith for a Writer." The Christian Imagination: Essays on Literature and the Arts. Ed. Leland Ryken. Grand Rapids: Baker, 1981. 307-314.