Why I Lean Towards John Lennon

As I get older there is one truth about aging that makes me long for the old days when I could come home from college on a holiday and sleep (non-stop, mind you!) until noon! That fact is simply this...I find myself lying awake in my “dark night of the soul” mode for at least an hour every night. It usually hits about 1:30 a.m. and then often comes back right around 4:30 a.m. It’s driving me crazy!

For a while, I used that time to write sermons or ponder the existence of my life. But to be honest, at 1:30 and 4:30 those thoughts are often too dark to preach about! Looking back on some of those thoughts (I write them in a journal) often scare me in the daylight!

After trying to face those “demons” by writing them down, I tried a different approach: numbing them by turning on my phone and watching endless clips on social media. To be honest with you, after searching around, I did find some really cool clips that lifted my spirit. If you scroll a lot, instead of spiraling down into the abys of the negative on social media...and there is a ton of it...try looking at the clips “On the Road with Steve Hartman.” In fact, Cyndy has convinced me that watching one of these hope-filled videos every day can renew our hope in humanity. And she’s right! CLICK HERE FOR A SAMPLE!

But, let’s face it, scrolling on your phone is still dangerous. It’s just not healthy practice. There are just too many pitfalls available. So, lately I’ve decided to learn! I’ve decided to use this time to sharpen my mind and dig into topics that I’ve always wanted to learn more about. Recently I’ve started learning more about art. And let me tell you, I have found this subject fascinating.

One of the things I’ve realized about art is that the purpose of “art” over time has changed. It used to be all about helping people find beauty. Bending light and color and form into works that lifted your spirits and raised your awareness of the beauty around you was the goal. Some of the artists we have in our history were absolute masters at it. Personally, I love the impressionists!

But somewhere in our history, the artistic world found that creating beauty just wasn’t enough. The world was more than that. The world, while at times beautiful, was also at times disturbing. Justice didn’t always prevail. Art needed to serve a different purpose in these times, and so there became a shift from art that was created to be beautiful to art as a way to express the truth...the way things really were. One of the first paintings that showed suffering, and pain was a work done by the great Romantic artist Theodore Gericault called The Raft of the Medusa painted in 1818-19.

This was a real-life account of the tragic shipwreck of the ship “Medusa” and the suffering and angst of those left adrift on a raft. My oh my, what a piece of art! The pictures of anguish and suffering are all over the canvas!

I share all this because I find myself torn when I look at the history of art. And it makes me ponder my own form of art: worship and writing. What should worship be? Should it be pure beauty? Should going to church be all “good news” and inspiration, or should it also be about truth? And if it is also about truth, shouldn’t there be times in worship where we are real about the human condition? Where we, like the psalmist, let our screams out as we scream like the psalmist:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? 

Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;

 and by night but find no rest.”  (Psalm 22:1-2)

Don’t we owe it to ourselves and God to just speak the truth sometimes about our human condition?

A while ago I went to listen to the wonderful Hebrew Scripture scholar, Walter Breuegeman, and he was adamant that in times like this we need to reclaim the art of the lament in the church and in our worship services. “God doesn’t want us to pretend that everything is holy down here. God wants to hear the truth of our hearts!”

He makes a compelling argument.

But I also find, that in times of deep sadness and society strife, the gift of a beautiful song or the pen of words of hope, or the radiant light of one of the Impressionists like Claude Monet’s Beach at Pourville are something that I need more now than ever.

And so, call me a coward, but my leanings are towards beauty these days. My art devices are now filled with paintings full of light and hope. My phone is full of clips from “On the Road with Steve Hartman,” my worship services lean towards a gospel full of hope, and my songs tend to be less Dylan’s “The Times they are A-changing” and more John Lennon’s “Imagine.”

Personally, I feel like each of us has enough of the real stuff as we can handle, and I truly don’t think that that “real stuff” is all that’s out there. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the truthful effort of these artists...we need that truth. I just think that there’s more than that “ugly” truth out in the world.  

Your friend and pastor, holding onto a greater hope and truth, Brook

PS: In Washington there are many folks, me included, that suffer from SAD (seasonal affective order). We need sunlight! Beauty and hope are a part of my SAD treatment!