
The Isolated Artist
An artist, in the most liberal sense of the word, always creates out of something. A writer, an actor, a pastor, a parent, an orchestra director, a designer, a video creator: we all must start somewhere. Perhaps you have found yourself without a single creative thought. Staring at the flashing cursor waiting for the perfect sentence to leap out of your brain and onto the screen, or for the perfect illustration, or the right combination of dance steps. But it doesn't come. You need something to create out of. You need a starting place. So, you Google for inspiration. You sign up for a conference. You listen to someone else’s song. Watch someone else's movie. But what is it that you are hoping for? Inspiration? A spark? And it comes as no surprise that with the pressure to create, whatever our medium may be, we often seclude ourselves in hopes of our grand revelation. But might there be another way?
How We Got Here
While we do not believe that the search for inspiration in others is misguided, nor do we think that the artist cannot or should not spend time working alone, we do believe we are neglecting to look somewhere a bit closer to home.
Many of us who work for the church have experienced some sort of theological training, whether it is from an undergrad Christian institution, a graduate program of some kind, or a conference. These traditional training methods tend to teach our leaders by removing them from their context and stuffing them with uniform answers. This answer-stuffing often occurs in an isolated environment that doesn't allow for creative thinking or divisive viewpoints. In addition, traditional Christian education focuses on digesting and regurgitating long lists of details. We are not suggesting that a homiletics exam or a tedious word study of Ruth is irrelevant or unimportant. But we believe there is more...something deeper. It is our hope that the future pastors, visionaries, and leaders of our churches might be trained to be lifelong engagers rather than regurgitators. But how can we expect our future leaders to engage this diversity of thought when they were trained in isolation? They have not been trained to engage with curiosity, but rather to isolate and defend.
So if artists and theologians both train in isolation and have the tendency to copy rather than to create, how then might we fight these tendencies and imagine something new?
Where do we now begin if we desire genuine creativity?
There is Meaning in Your Story
Blaine’s wife is a writer and constantly talks to herself. She thinks it is a neurosis, while he happens to love it when he catches her (which isn't that hard). He loves catching her because it just feels so genuine. When she is working on a screenplay she lets her characters have conversations out loud with one another in plain earshot of the other patrons of the local coffee shop. She talks to herself because there is something from within her that absolutely must come out. Borrowing from that catchy songstress Anna Nalick, we hear a similar thought:
2 a.m. and I'm still awake, writing a song
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
Our personal stories are the same way. If we don't allow them to be told, they threaten to kill us from the inside out. Or at the very least, our senses begin to be systematically numbed down until our only choice is to copy.
Unfortunately, many of us who are Christian have not spent much time in Christian environments that ask for our stories in such a raw way. Rather, we participate in groups that refuse to name the darkness in our lives. By ignoring the depravity in each of our stories, there is no room to speak of the redemption in them. Without acknowledging and processing the darkness, how will the light make any sense? We are then left with no choice but to copy someone else’s narrative.
The fear of releasing something that cannot be controlled or understood may be the very reason why it becomes so difficult for Christian artists to authentically create. We do not operate out of our unique story (for fear of the unknown, denial, disownment, etc.) and so we create out of a borrowed one. We copy.
Instead of telling a story from our own lives, we rip off the latest Nike commercial in the name of relevance, thinking our own stories aren't relevant enough. We, however, believe that creativity begins when we learn to love and share our own distinctive story. Not someone else's.
So, if the real work of creating from our insides begins with the hard work of telling our story, where do we go to do that? We can go to therapy for starters (which we highly recommend). But we would venture to guess that therapy has never been the place where an artist, theologian, or pastor would start when looking for creative inspiration. Of course we would love to now reveal the magical place you can go when you find yourself staring at that blank canvas, screen, or notebook page. The truth is the work of telling our stories is messy and incredibly difficult. And yet again, to find this you may not need to go very far at all.

Right Where You Are
We often assume that in order to “find oneself” or to “name our story” we need a few weeks in the mountains...alone. While we have each benefitted greatly in times of solitude and Sabbath, we hope to point out that it is sometimes easier to retreat 'away' instead of retreating inside, or better yet, retreating to our community. We believe that within real, authentic, honest community is where we often hear the truth.
It is imperative that we then live with those who can tell us who we truly are. It is vital that they can speak to our passions and our fears. It is necessary that they name our beauty so that we can begin to believe it to be true. It is also imperative that they tell us about the darkness that we inevitably try to hide. Others must see us, and they must have the freedom to tell us what it is they see.
As mentioned above we, as artists, often compromise our creativity, our uniqueness, to appease others. We submit paintings, songs, services, TV scripts that are ultimately soulless. We believe that this can be avoided if we are lucky enough to find authentic community in which to share our stories.
Until art is applied to another purpose larger than glorifying itself, artwork will be nothing more than the separate longings of isolated individuals. The same could be said for our theology. In order to actualize creativity, ideas, art, and concepts into the world, one must form relationships with their neighbor. If done, we believe that creativity can finally be released from the rigid structures of a singular life-perception. Through this participation with others, art and theology find their meaning and you may actually find your story.
A Story: Jen, an Artist & Theologian
A friend of ours, Jen Grabarczyk (a fellow alumnae of Mars Hill Graduate School and the creator of the artwork gracing this article), embodies both artist and theologian. In a recent conversation, she shared, "I believe that within the process of creating and experiencing art, we find the kindred spirit to all of life – that which taps mostly deeply into our souls and human condition, speaking the truths we can only sometimes cognitively grasp. I also believe that artists are today's prophets and priests and that immense power and responsibility rests within the hands of those who create, not unlike the power and responsibility that rests within the hands of our theologians or those who shepherd or do therapeutic work."
Jen continues, "I believe a great deal of redemption for the church in our day and days to come will be through a rekindled relationship with creativity and the arts as they echo the spirit of a most creative and relational God and intersect with our beings in daily life and worship." Jen names the unique opportunity that an artist has. An artist who creates from their story, who better learns their story, experiences life in community, can then prophetically speak back into that community or congregation. Is this not exactly what our churches need? Jen points out that the outpouring of our stories through art tells the story of God. It is our responsibility to learn our story, in community, so that we may be better tellers of God’s story.

A Call & Conclusion
We hope the call to embrace your story within the context of your community will start you on a journey away from isolation, regurgitation, and facsimile. We do not dare suggest that this is an easy process. In fact, we would contend that loving your story, sharing it, and interacting with the stories of others, is as dangerous a task one can be called to. However, this is a danger that we believe is worth your life. It's been worth ours. The call to creativity is more familiar than we sometimes remember...it is truly the call that to find your life you must lose it.
We also see that there are systems in place that inadvertently push us towards our familiar patterns of isolation and regurgitation, while attempting to provide order and sense. But what if organizations like churches honored the work of internal investigation? What if we truly invited diversity into our classrooms? What if we called for third-world theologians to speak into our isolated American context? What if meditation and coffee with a friend inspired the same levels of creativity as taking copious notes from the latest NOOMA video? What if your heart became the script and not the newest Apple commercial?
These systems will not change easily and we do not claim to have the blueprint for their overhaul here in this article. We merely have a hope for a new way of training for artists and pastors. A training that invites us to engage and create rather than isolate and regurgitate. We hope for a new seminary. Our hope is that this new training ground would live right there in the middle of the messiness you currently find yourself in. This idea of a new seminary is most likely not a place you go to, or end up, but rather a place in which you start. This new way of creating from your story and within community, quite literally gives you a new place to begin. Blinking cursors beware.
"Do not hide your light, your divine creative powers, under a bushel and thus allow human creativity to be manipulated and misused by forces of war making, destruction, pessimism, and bureaucracy. Find the creative person, the 'I am,' the divine child at play and at generativity in yourself. Give birth to yourself – your lifestyles, your relationships, your learning, your sexuality, your joys, your healing, your work – and build up in one another the same courage to create. Enter the great power of the universe, a power of constant generativity and do not be afraid. For I am with you always when you are creating. I, too, am a Creator, sometimes called the Creator. But in fact I ask you to be my companions, to share the birthing of images with me, to be my co-creators. Do not bore me by refusing. Do not scandalize me by saying 'I can't.' Do not oppress Mother Earth and her future by refusing to create and co-create. Come, play with me. Let us create together." - Matthew Fox
Blaine Hogan and Jarrod Shappell are alumnae of Mars Hill Graduate School in Seattle, WA.