April 21, 2014

Do This if You Want to Live

This Easter Sunday, we enjoyed a wonderfully Christ-centered worship service at our home church, Grace Lutheran in Seward. The hymns all were rich and powerful, the liturgy played a key role, and the sermon delivered law and gospel just as it should have. The choir did not overwhelm the service with special music. And with an attendance of about 70, the congregational singing was unusually boisterous for our small parish.

That will give you some perspective when I tell you about the conversation that took place at our table during the Easter brunch that followed. Some relatives of a parish member were visiting from Lincoln, and the husband could not seem to contain his pride in his church. You see, about eight years ago their church was doing very poorly; membership was declining, and it looked as though the end was in sight. But then they got a new, energetic pastor, and everything changed. They started a new, "very contemporary" service, and now the church is bursting at the seams. Now it seems that they cannot find enough parking space, and even their brand new facility proved to be too small. Well, you see, it is quite obvious that God is blessing this church.

Or so this visitor boldly claimed. I asked him which church it was that he was talking about, and he informed me that it was Christ Lutheran in Lincoln. So afterwards, I looked it up. Christ Lutheran apparently grew so large that its contemporary service split off into its own church, called Room211.  It seems this guy was not the only one who was proud of the church's rags-to-riches story. The Christ Lutheran website flaunts their attendance records online (while burying their LC-MS affiliation), and with numbers topping 1000 for Good Friday and 3000 on Easter Sunday, it's enough to make your average Lutheran church envious. Like maybe they're doing something right.

And that's what this visitor to Grace thought, too. He was laying it on pretty thick that our little church with a weekly attendance of less than 50 needs to get with the program. He stopped just short of saying, "Here's what you're doing wrong: your traditional hymns, liturgy, and law-gospel preaching are a death sentence. If you want to grow, do what we do."


What exactly do they do? The Room211 solution is to have gourmet coffee and cookies, a praise band, "multisensory worship," huge projection screens, videos, drama performances, fog machines, and sermons based on Pixar Movies. Is it possible to judge the success of a church's ministry from a distance? True, we can't judge hearts, but consider the following:
  1. The 5 minute intro video on the home page only mentions Jesus one time—with the word "freak" appended to it. No cross. Just stories about alcoholism and depression and needing to belong.
  2. The pages and pages of testimonials on the Room211 site mention "Jesus" a total of three times, and "Christ" only ten times, six of which refer to the parent church's name.
  3. Nowhere does Room211 list its affiliation with the LC-MS. Even the word "Lutheran" is only mentioned in connection with its parent church.
  4. Nowhere does Room211 have a statement of beliefs, or even a link to a statement of beliefs.
  5. Read any of the archived sermons about Despicable Me, Duck Dynasty, the Princess Bride, or Michael Jackson, and see if you can find one with both law and gospel in it. (I couldn't. But I suppose if you have enough patience, you might find a couple.)

So am I envious of this church's success? Not in the least. Because there was never any doubt that if you give people whatever they want, you'll fill your church every Sunday. We could stand at the doors and hand out free birth control, and that would sure bring 'em in. But the question is, how can we best minister to souls in need of a Savior? Room211 is not ministering. If hand-picked testimonials only produce heart-warming stories about wanting to belong, and being moved to tears by the music, and finding the messages to be super relevant, and feeling like you can trust the people around you even though you don't know any of them—this is not ministering. If not one of those enthusiastic re-churched members can boast in the cross of Christ, then they are not being ministered to. This is pandering, entertaining, and manipulating. Why would we want to imitate this? For the numbers? Is that how God measures success?

Kyrie Eleison.

April 14, 2014

He is Weak, But He is Strong

My two-year-old son has been learning "Jesus loves me, this I know," and because it's one of the only songs he knows, he sings it all the time. I noticed the other day that he keeps getting one of the lyrics wrong. The original goes, "Little ones to him belong; they are weak, but he is strong." In Gabriel's version, it gets changed to "He be weak, but he is strong."

I don't have the heart to correct him, because the version he sings is also true. When we think about Christ this Lenten season, it is not in the context of some lamentable tragedy. Jesus was not the helpless victim, but the willing sacrifice. When we see Jesus being nailed, beaten and bloody, to a cross, it is easy to see his weakness. It is hard to see his strength. It is hard to see the God whose "strength is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor 12:9).

"Crucifixion of Jesus" by TangDa

The very idea of an omnipotent God going willingly to this kind of death is absurd in the extreme. It's incomprehensible. It's foolishness. Christians must recognize this, especially since the Apostle Paul even calls it such. "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God" (1 Cor 1:18).


You've probably seen this meme floating around the internet. It shows a muscle-bound Jesus defiantly snapping the arms off the cross. It reads like a deleted scene from "The Last Temptation of Christ," in which Jesus decides your sins are not worth it and uses his power to do exactly what his tormentors demand. It's meant to satirize the absurdity of the central article of Christian faith.

The atheist thinks he is telling us something new. Like if we really thought about it hard, we'd come to the conclusion that the Atonement is too ridiculous a concept for it to actually be true. For the Christian, it is pointless to deny the absurdity. We embrace it, and point them to 1 Cor 1:18. We thank God for his reckless love, that though he was
"in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord, to the glory of God the Father." — Philippians 1:6-11

February 25, 2014

CCM and the Shotgun Wedding

A few weeks ago, I came across a great post at BJS by Eric Andersen: Parallels of Pornography and Praise Music. He shares a quote from C.S. Lewis (The Four Loves) in which Lewis describes what "lust" does and does not seek after. He says,
We use a most unfortunate idiom when we say, of a lustful man prowling the streets, that he “wants a woman.” Strictly speaking, a woman is just what he does not want.

He wants a pleasure for which a woman happens to be the necessary piece of apparatus. How much he cares about the woman as such may be gauged by his attitude to her five minutes after fruition (one does not keep the carton after one has smoked the cigarettes).
Andersen's post builds on the premise that so-called "Praise" music is like pornography in that it is all about aesthetic—not content. We don't want the whole package; we want the part that makes us feel good. And for the most part, Christian Contemporary Music (CCM) has very little to offer in terms of content. Andersen quotes the lyrics from a handful of truly insipid praise songs. They repeat empty refrains over and over, and romancing God seems to be a common theme. (I know of at least a few songs that I heard 3 or 4 times on internet radio stations (for examplebefore I realized that they were supposed to be "Christian" for exactly this reason—they sounded like every other popular love song, with a few allusions to Jesus/God that are easy to miss.)

Father = Church Growth?

Andersen mentions in passing that there are exceptions, and I want to address those. Because it appears to me that the exceptions are being used to "soften up" the traditionalists for a flood of non-exceptional, Haugen-flavored hogwash. While there are a few cases of good texts paired with Praise music, it is not a natural pairing. It's a case of theology being forced at gunpoint into a style of music that doesn't care for it. In the rare instance where a CCM group takes the time to put some semblance of theology into the music, Lutherans who dream about tattooed vocalists, colored spot lights, and glittery drum sets get the butterflies. "Hey, now we can sell this to the curmudgeony old Lutherans who insist on having good theological hymn texts!" So naturally, "In Christ Alone" by Getty-Townsend becomes the poster child for CCM among Lutherans. It should go without saying that the shotgun wedding between sensual Praise music and sound theology produced an ill-matched couple. But for appearances' sake, it might be good enough for a Trojan horse. As soon as we concede to publish Getty-Getty-Townsend in the new WELS hymnal, a horde of well-groomed, dressed-down, microphone jockeys will jump out and start singing the full gamut of Christian Contemporary Music. (Okay... so it is possible to take a metaphor too far.)

Is "In Christ Alone" a good text? Yes, as far as the theology goes. But it is terrible poetry. Which makes it at best an okay text. And moreover, it is not a hymn for congregational singing. It is a song, written for a Praise band and a professional soloist. Just like every other Praise song I've ever heard. And it could never be any other way, because CCM is modeled on the aesthetic of the popular non-sacred music you'd hear on the radio. It's "ear porn." People like it for the feeling it gives them, not for the theological depth of its content. If CCM didn't sound like pop music, it would simply have no appeal to the church growth movement.

Some of you will probably think that I have a chip on my shoulder. How can I be one of the two dozen Lutherans who doesn't at least begrudgingly condone singing "In Christ Alone" in worship? I must dislike everything contemporary.

On the contrary, I actually do like some of it. After all, I like a lot of popular music. Why would I dislike popular music that is also Christian? Most of it is quite catchy, sometimes has well-crafted poetry, occasionally good theology, and (to use one of those "trendy" adjectives) can even be uplifting. It is designed to be easily liked (again, not unlike pornography). But unlike many Lutherans, I hope that I am able to distinguish "what I like" from "what is good," and especially from "what is good for worship."
  • I like a good leather recliner, but I don't need or want one in church.
  • I like Phil Collins, but I don't want to hear his music in church.
  • I like a good beer, but it would be completely inappropriate in worship.
See? We do this all the time. We distinguish between what we like and what is good for worship and beneficial to our fellow believers. But for some reason, this logical decision-making process is checked at the door when it involves Praise music, and we are called curmodgeony legalists for consistently testing everything.

January 31, 2014

The Temptation of Christ (Explanation)

In my last post, I shared a drawing of the Temptation and asked for readers to point out the symbolism. In this post, I'm going to explain the different symbols that I incorporated into the drawing. I don't always do this. One reason is that I don't want to deprive the viewer of discovering these things for themselves. A work of art becomes more impactful and memorable if the viewer has to work a little at it. That "aha!" moment becomes a reward in itself for the observer who invests a few extra minutes in the work of art.

But there is also a trade-off. If I don't explain the work in my own words, sometimes things that I think are obvious will be missed, or a viewer will put a different spin on it. In this instance, a viewer found the words "I AM" written in the rocks, which I had not at all intended to write. Some symbols do not communicate as clearly as they might, and this is a problem inherent to the visual arts. So with that being said, the following is a brief explanation of "The Temptation of Christ."
  1. Satan: In my previous approaches to this subject, the devil had been a shadowy figure dressed in a tattered black robe. Some years ago, I decided a change in costume would be not only less cliché, but more appropriate. I thought, why shouldn't Satan be dressed as Caesar in all his glory? Satan claimed to own the entire world—as the caesars did—and he also asked that Jesus bow down and worship him—as did Domitian and other Roman emperors. The symbolism didn't have to be invented, since it is already well-established in Roman art. So I dressed Satan as Caesar, wearing a sword as a symbol of his warring conquests. He holds a scepter in his hand, symbolizing his dominion over the earthly kingdom. His posture indicates his arrogance and vanity as he gestures toward the kingdoms of the earth and their splendor.
  2. The Lion: The devil is described as a "roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour" (1 Pet 5:8). There are lions emblazoned on Satan's sandals and in the center of his breastplate, an appropriate symbol of his power and bloodlust.
  3. The Dragon: The book of Revelation describes Satan as "the great Dragon...that serpent of old" (Rev 12:9), which brings to mind that first deception in the Garden of Eden. He wears the symbol of a dragon embossed on his breastplate as a boast: "Look what I have done to God's perfect creation!"
  4. The Tree: The devil's scepter points to a stunted and withered tree, which brings to mind the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil—the means by which he overcame mankind by introducing sin into the world. But Satan could little guess that a tree would also the means by which Jesus would overcome him.
  5. Jesus: Jesus is in every way Satan's opposite. He is the picture of humility—the Suffering Servant. His back is bent, his hair unkept, his clothing torn, his eyes downcast, and he doesn't appear to have the strength to even stand. He is facing away from Satan, and he shows no interest at all in his grand offer. Instead, if you follow his downcast gaze, it is focused on some cracks in the rock which resemble a body hanging on a cross. Jesus was ever conscious of his mission, and solely motivated by love. He resisted each temptation, maintaining his divine perfection—only hinted at here as a thin cloud which forms an 'accidental' halo over Jesus' head.



Pencil and white charcoal on toned paper, 2013.

January 17, 2014

The Temptation of Christ

This is a drawing I made last year of the Temptation. Matt. 4:8, 9. See if you can find all the symbolism.

Whoever can write the best commentary on this illustration, drawing attention to all the symbols, by 12:00 PM Central on Saturday, Jan. 18, wins an autographed print of the drawing!

Longer is not necessarily better. Winner chosen at the discretion of the artist. Leave commentaries in the comments section.

Pencil and white charcoal on toned paper, 2013.




January 4, 2014

How We've Murdered Liturgical Art: Part II

This series of posts discusses a book written by a professor at Carthage College, published by Concordia Publishing House, and used as a required text at Concordia University NE in the 1970s. It is entitled "The Christian Encounters the World of Painting," by Wendell Mathews. The book purports to be a guide for Christians to approaching and critiquing modern painting. While claiming to be a proponent of Christian art, Mathews is clearly part of the problem—he is one of the many Christian voices that contributed to the murder of the liturgical arts in the past century. I intend to show exactly how.

In his book, Dr. Mathews wields four weapons against the art of the Church. Not surprisingly, they are the standard poison of Modernism, but have been carefully disguised with theological language in order to be more readily swallowed by Christians. They are: 1) undermining tradition, 2) promoting elitism, 3) attacking semantics, and 4) fostering an improper view of vocation.


2. Promoting Elitism

Admittedly, calling someone an elitist is probably one of the most overused name-calling tactics in history. There is nothing that raises the ire of the masses as much as someone who uses his power, wealth, or position in order to exclude those of "lesser" social status. In modern politics, even if the title is not deserving, once it is applied to a person it is difficult to overcome that association.

That being said, there are few entities that are so deserving of the title "elitist" as Modernism is. And there are few places where elitism is so wholly inappropriate as the Christian Church. But oddly enough, we so very often find them together.

Modernists firmly believed that their art was the culmination of tens of thousands of years of artistic efforts; that after millennia of mindlessly imitating nature, they had finally thrown off the shackles of realism and representationalism, and the result was an art that was more pure, more expressive, and more intensely human than ever before.

The only problem was that the public wasn't buying it (both figuratively and literally). A 1995 article from the Independent explains:
In the 1950s and 1960s… the great majority of Americans disliked or even despised modern art—President Truman summed up the popular view when he said: “If that’s art, then I’m a Hottentot.”1
I suspect that Modernism had to become elitist in order to survive. When the new art failed to gather as much enthusiasm as de Kooning, Pollock, Rothko, and their peers thought it deserved, the automatic response was to dismiss the public as uneducated idiots. If you repeat a lie often enough, and believe it strongly enough, and if the CIA secretly funds your lie for decades2, eventually everyone will believe it.

Manessier, "Crown of Thorns"
And that is what Mathews believes, as well. In "The Christian Encounters the World of Painting," he tries very hard to distinguish "authentic" painting from that which is not. He writes, "Authenticity is determined by knowledgeable and experienced viewers who have been trained to see these qualities."3 He continues, "The standards of evaluation come from the artists and those who, through learning and exposure, have come to sense the visual language of painting."4 And again, "If the viewer has had little or no training and experience with viewing paintings, it is rather presumptuous to think he can judge what is an authentic painting."No doubt, Matthews counts himself among these "knowledgeable and experienced" viewers, and is therefore qualified to apply the title of authenticity to those works he considers worthy.

By way of clarification, I do not discount knowledge and experience in matters of art. As a student of the arts, I certainly have a deeper understanding and appreciation for art now than I did as a high school graduate. But I object to the notion that an elite class of academics have the right to say what is "authentic" and what is not, while the public—the people for whom art is ostensibly intended—have no right at all.

Mathews even attempts to disqualify clergy and laymen from passing artistic judgement on the art that is made for their churches! He writes, "The church also is finding that it cannot foster creative expression by requesting the artist to cater to the prevailing tastes of clergy and laymen."6 I question whether the church has actually found this, or whether this has been dictated to the church by elitist academics. Regardless, Mathews is effectively saying, If you find this new art objectionable, you have bad taste, and you are inhibiting authentic artistic expression. And anyways, who are you? Just a stupid layman.

Why is this dangerous to Christianity—and how did it kill liturgical art?

If neither the laymen nor the clergy are fit to discern what art is and is not fit for use in worship, then who is? The artists? You can see why Modernists are so deserving of the title "elitist." They not only want to monopolize the production of new artwork, but its critique, and—no doubt—its value. You can also see why the church has come to distrust artists on the whole. If Mathews represents the prevailing academic opinion about arts in the church, it is no wonder that many churches would prefer to leave the whole matter alone and worship in a white-washed barn.

Chagall, "White Crucifixion"
An all-important question that Mathews never raises is: who is the art intended for? The book is entitled "The Christian Encounters...", and the author presupposes that his readership are Christians. But he never explicitly states that Christian art is intended for Christians. Now if liturgical art is meant for Christians, then logicaly the intended audience would play a role in judging its worth. But he cannot reveal that inconsistency, so I suspect the question is deliberately avoided. However, from phrases scattered throughout the book, I gather that Mathews never considers that a work should be intended for the edification of the body of believers. He sees art universally as a subjective experience between you, the viewer, and the work itself. This can only ever harm the Church, because it takes away the ability of art to communicate real meaning.

The second all-important question that Mathews never asks is: what is the art's purpose? He doesn't ask, but he does give an answer, though only in passing:
If, however, we conclude that for Christians the quality of artistic expression does not matter and that only the religious message matters, we have moved out of the area of the fine arts. If the church wishes to enunciate the Gospel by means of artistic expressions, it must strive for nothing less than authentic art of quality.7 
Did you catch it? He casually, almost accidentally, says what should have been the central point of the whole book: "to enunciate the Gospel." I wonder how artists are supposed to do that if, in trying to do so, Mathews and his peers dismiss it as unauthentic, or disassociate it with fine art. Or, if an artist tries to follow Dr. Mathews' advice, how he is supposed to enunciate anything by means of the subjective abstractions Mathews is so infatuated with? It's an enormous catch-22 that he hopes you won't notice. Unfortunately, some rather influential voices in the church have been playing the Modernist tune for decades. They are still teaching young artists that liturgical art is a means of self-expression, and not one of enunciating the gospel. The inevitable result is that the church grows either farther estranged from artists, or from the gospel—and possibly both.

Christianity is not a religion of subjective realities, but of objective, unchanging truths. It sees humankind as unique creations, but ones that are fundamentally the same—equally corrupt and sinful, and equally in need of a Savior. This is why we come to worship. We need to hear that Jesus was delivered over to death for our sins, and was raised to life for our justification.8

Whatever works of art we choose to place in our sanctuaries, they must certainly reflect these truths. Those works should be accessible to the people they are meant to communicate to. There is no room in the Church for elitism.

To be continued...

_______________

1 Frances S. Saunders, "Modern art was CIA 'weapon'," The Independent (October 1995), http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/modern-art-was-cia-weapon-1578808.html
2 Ibid.
3 Wendell Mathews, The Christian Encounters the World of Painting (St. Louis, MO: Concordia Publishing House, 1968), 90.
4 Mathews, 91.
5 Ibid, 100.
6 Ibid, 91-92.
7 Ibid, 101.
8 Romans 4:25