Genius

I love those moments when I'm reading or talking with someone and discover the most fascinating cross over between two subjects that I had no idea could be connected. About a year ago I found a passage in my History of Graphic Design textbook that discussed how Gutenberg's printing press directly led to the story of Dr. Faustus, which I happened to be reading in my British Literature course. Who knew typography and 17th century plays could have something in common? Take comic books and and spirituality, for instance. Before this past week I would have never thought there could be a reasonable connection between these aspects of my life. Yet somehow they have managed to cross paths, and here I am looking at each of them in a new light. And interestingly, it all goes back to genius.

A few weeks ago I read Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud as an introduction to my Graphic Novels course. At one point he referenced the essay "On the Problem of Form" by artist Wassily Kandinsky, so over the weekend I printed a copy and read it so I would be on the same page. I expected it to discuss formalism, in the artistic sense, but instead I found myself reading about what he called a "Creative Spirit" - a spiritual form that lives within the human being and gives them a longing to create. The human must be receptive for this spirit to give them creativity, and sometimes it can even inhabit multiple humans, making widespread art movements possible. I read the article quickly and eagerly, fascinated by the idea that the artist is just a vehicle through which creativity flows.
As I read about the Creative Spirit, I was reminded of a conversation I'd had with one of my art professors at lunch about a video he had recently seen. It was a talk given by Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat Pray Love, on the topic of creativity. I found it online and watched it, taking notes directly on my Kandinsky print out. (You can find it here if you want to watch it.) She talked about her book, and her thought process, but it was when she started discussing genius that it got really interesting.

According to Gilbert, the Greeks and Romans thought of "genius" as a divine entity who lives in the studio of the artist and helps them to create. A person didn't create art or music all on their own; they were inspired by their genius. Whatever good - or bad - art that they created they could not take complete credit for, as it was not entirely their doing. She went on to tell a story about a poet who could literally feel poems traveling through the atmosphere, and that all she had to do was catch them. Gilbert explained that every writer (or artist or what have you) experiences that feeling of otherworldly inspiration at some point. She says that glimpses of God come through this creativity - others can see God in that creation. Gilbert even goes so far as to say that the greatest things you accomplish are given to you.

I had been thinking about all of this, and read another book entitled Inspiribility: 40 Top Designers Speak Out About What Inspires that I found in the campus library. It included interviews with respected designers, closing with the infamous Milton Glaser (who created the "I ♥ NY" logo and the Bob Dylan poster, among other things). He also spoke about this concept of genius and an outside spiritual muse of sorts that inspires his creativity. This was the third reference within a week to the concept of the external genius.

When I am in these situations, and seem to be bombarded with references to the same topic over and over, I begin to wonder if they are really coincidences. It's like that Caseblanca line, "Of all the gin joints in all the world, she had to walk into mine." Of all the topics that could have been discussed or written about, I stumbled upon genius in three different situations. Was it truly random, or was it something else? I always feel in those moments as if God is trying to tell me something. Only I wasn't paying attention so He had to show it to me a bunch of times before it sank in.

What if there really is a genius spirit that directly inspires us in our creative endeavors? What if it is true that there is something bigger than we are, something even more creative, something that allows us to be creative by lending us its talents? What if it is not just a something, but a someone? What if it is God?

It makes perfect sense to me that this genius giver of creativity is God. God's spirit inhabits us and helps us to do things that as humans we otherwise could not. God is the the epitome of creative - he created the universe and everything in it, from the planets to the gene that makes your eyes the color they are. If God can pass on his generosity, his mercy, his love, his healing power through the inhabiting Holy Spirit to his followers, why couldn't he pass on his creativity as well?

What a beautiful thought, that art and literature and music are creations of God through the vessels of humans. That we are compelled to make things that are beautiful by the one who was compelled to make us beautiful. It doesn't matter how great the work is that we do, we cannot take the credit because God has instilled it in us.

Maybe that is what God is trying to teach me, that no matter how good I think I am it really all goes back to him. Who would have guessed I could have learned all of that just by reading a comic book?

What Do I Know of Holy?

I got up this morning determined to find God again. I had breakfast, sent some e-mails, put in a load of laundry, took care of everything that needed taken care of. When all of that was done I went to my room, lit a candle, and piled up pillows on my bed. On my computer I found my Starfield albums and set them to play all. Skimming my bookshelf I grabbed the books I would need - Rob Bell's Velvet Elvis, Anne Lamott's Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith, and Brennen Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel. Add to that my Bible and a notebook, and I had everything I needed.

I sat quietly, letting the music set the mood, and started to read. A few chapters into Plan B I hadn't found Jesus and abandoned it for something else. Next up was Brennan Manning. I have the Visual Edition of his book. It's a full color text/picture mash-up, full of distressed type, grungy textures, and lots of Photoshopping. It's probably marketed for teenagers, but as a designer I am drawn to these sorts of things. I crack open the book, reading the forward before getting to the meat of the book. I don't get far before I am stopped dead in my tracks. Barely five pages in and already I'm getting inundated with truth:

"We believe that we can pull ourselves up by out bootstraps - indeed, we can do it ourselves. Sooner or later we are confronted with the painful truth of our inadequacy and insufficiency ... We secretly admit that the call of Jesus is too demanding. That surrender to the Spirit is beyond our reach. We start acting like everyone else."

What was I doing? I had set out his morning to become spiritual again all by myself. I turned on some Christian music, started reading some Christian books, and expected God to show up. I had done my part of the equation, now I just had to wait (impatiently) for results. Okay, God, I'm putting in my quiet time, now pay up. Make me feel spiritual again. No wonder I wasn't getting anywhere. I was going about it for all the wrong reasons.

Brennan Manning sure knows what he is talking about. For a long time now I've let myself believe that I could do things myself. And without even realizing it I fell away, finding it hard to follow the teachings of Christ, to read the Word, to remember to pray. When I started college as a Freshman, I eagerly read my Bible. I distinctly recall walking around our campus thinking, how can someone see this much beauty and not think of God? But now, four years later, I show up to church on Sunday mornings wondering where the week went and pledging yet again that this will be the week I dust off my Bible and start reading again.

This past Sunday was one of the most spiritually charged services I have been to in a long time. It was one of those sermons that revivals are born from. We wrote on the wall behind the pulpit Raise The Level of Risk. Unleash the passion. Rethink your relationship with Christ. And many from the congregation signed their name to the movement. I felt like something huge was starting. Jim, our pastor, made the comment on Facebook later that every time he thought about it he was reminded of the song "What Do We Know of Holy?" by Addison Road. I looked up the lyrics, and found myself in them. I talk the whole time instead of listening, too. I've learned to talk about Jesus without following through. What do I know of holy?

I flipped open my Bible, like I should have done in the first place. I find myself in John 6, and read where Jesus says, "The Spirit alone gives eternal life. Human effort accomplishes nothing."

I can't do it myself. I can't shut myself in my room with a stack of books and a scented candle and become spiritual again. I have to go to God. I have to pray, and shut up and listen to what He has to say. I read this last night in Ephesians, and it has been stuck in my mind ever since. This is my prayer, not just for myself, but for everyone else struggling with being distant from God:

I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God's love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God's people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. [Eph. 3:16-19]