Walking on Water and other Life Goals

Several years back (2002 , to be exact) I was challenged at a church retreat to come up with a list of 100 life goals.  I fell a bit short and only came up with 91, but since then I’ve accomplished several of them — I’ve gone hang-gliding; learned to fence (no, this doesn’t have to do with stolen goods); acted, sung, and danced in a musical (at the same church retreat one year later I was awaiting a callback which led to my first performance, in Kiss Me, Kate); sung and danced professionally (completed when I was paid to perform in dinner theatre); taken a seminary class (completed in spades now that I’m halfway through a seminary degree itself); and visited Scotland and Ireland, which sadly constitute only two-thirds of a single goal (which also includes Wales).

There are a number of goals that I’m making headway towards, but will take quite a while to achieve — my reading goals.  I’m aiming to read all of the books (or other literary works) by Elie Wiesel, George MacDonald, C.S. Lewis, Dorothy Sayers, Madeleine L’Engle, Chaim Potok, and William Shakespeare, as well as all the books listed in Books that Build Character.  (And right now I’m wondering why J.R.R. Tolkien and G.K. Chesterton aren’t on that list, but anyway…)  I don’t have time right now to do all these folks justice, but some random thoughts on a couple:

MacDonald’s faerie worlds and other books had tremendous influence on anybody who’s anybody (Lewis, Tolkien, etc.).  I can’t remember much off-hand about Sayer’s The Mind of the Maker (as a matter of fact, I’m not even sure I’ve read it, although I do own it), but it has to do with creativity and art.  Potok’s My Name is Asher Lev is my favorite book — the fictional tale of an Orthodox Jewish kid with incredible artistic gifts in a community that’s not too keen on art.  Transformational in my life when I read it as a budding writer (I still haven’t blossomed, so maybe it wasn’t as transformational as I thought).  And if you read Books that Build Character you’ll get excited about your favorite childhood books all over again — this is written by folks who value good stories and would likely include the Harry Potter books if it hadn’t been written before they came out.

This year, I’ve been focused on reading Madeleine L’Engle, who may very well be my favorite author (can someone be your favorite author if they didn’t write your favorite book?).  I’m already well-acquainted with A Wrinkle in Time and the associated books, but now I’m familiarizing myself with the Austin Family chronicles.

One of her books I’ve been dipping back into, though, is the amazing Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith and Art (you thought actually walking on water was one of my life goals, didn’t you?).  This is a must-read for all Christian artists.  Some excerpts to whet your appetite:

“Christian art? Art is art, painting is painting; music is music; a story is a story.  If it’s bad art, it’s bad religion, no matter how pious the subject.  If it’s good art — and there the questions start coming, questions which it would be simpler to evade.”

More:

“Obedience is an unpopular word nowadays, but the artist must be obedient to the work, whether it be a symphony, a painting, or a story for a small child.  I believe that each work of art, whether it is a work of great genius or something very small, comes to the artist and says, “Here I am. Enflesh me.  Give birth to me.”  And the artist either says, “My soul doth magnify the Lord,” and willingly becomes the bearer of the work, or refuses; but the obedient response is not necessarily a conscious one, and not everyone has the humble, courageous obedience of Mary.”

And one more:

“When the artist is truly the servant of the work, the work is better than the artist; Shakespeare knew how to listen to his work, and so he often wrote better than he could write; Bach composed more deeply, more truly than he knew; Rembrandt’s brush put more of the human spirit on canvas than Rembrandt could comprehend.

When the work takes over, then the artist is enabled to get out of the way, not to interfere.  When the work takes over, then the artist listens.

But before he can listen, paradoxically, he must work.  Getting out of the way and listening is not something that comes easily, either in art or in prayer.”

Okay, and that’s all from the first chapter.  Trust me, you need to read this book.