In the most recent edition of Christian History and Biography, scholar James Romaine takes a look at Michelangelo’s frescoes of the creation story that he painted on the Sistine Chapel (Scripture on the Ceiling: mag here, but story isn’t online). Romaine says that Michelangelo’s frescoes “made a profound statement about the creation story—and the artist’s own creativity.” And he says that:
“In (the creation) masterpiece, Michelangelo is doing more than representing the moment of creation. He is employing his own creativity as a means of studying God’s creative nature. If our creative capacity is a part of the image of God in us, then exploring and exercising our creativity can be a means of better knowing him. Art-making can be a form of visual theology.”
God’s creation of the world and everything in it is tied to the creativity that flows out of us. When my children were very young, I sometimes took care of them while also working at home. On occasion, I’d have to watch them while participating on a conference call. My son was still a baby and easy to put down for a nap. But my daughter was a year older and no napper. So, I’d sit her on the floor of my office and give her a sheet of computer paper and some crayons.
From the day she started drawing squiggly lines, she loved to create. She would draw a squiggly and stare at it, contemplating it. Then she’d pick up another color and draw another squiggly at the place she determined it would look best. I loved to watch her draw, and at times, I was distracted from my call.
The finished product looked like something an 18-month-old would draw, but it was hard earned. She never slapped anything together; she created a work of art over thirty minutes.
Years later, she’s never stopped. After winning several art awards, she keeps on drawing, sculpting, making, creating. She’s never taken an art lesson. And we’ve never insisted that she keep at it. There’s something inside her that drives her to create and gives her the talent to do so.
Many writers talk about the muse. That strange invisible force that gives them ideas and words. It’s the big bang theory of creative writing. The right plot, the right simile explodes from nowhere into their brain. Well, Michelangelo knew where the creativity came from. And I think my daughter does, also.
Maybe that’s why so many writers suffer from writer’s block. They don’t recognize anyone who can help and just wait around for the bang. Or maybe they’re trying too hard to push in one direction when Someone Else wants them to head in another.
I know when I hit a wall, the solution that works best is to give up. Give up, that is, on the direction my human pride is encouraging me to go in, and instead, to take a break and listen to that still small voice that is telling me…"Yo! Over here! This is the way. Walk in it." Sometimes, I think God is telling me to take certain paragraphs, the paragraphs that I love, and sacrifice them. Only then can I write what I’m supposed to write.
Creativity. Whether through frescoes, squiggles, or the written word, it has the power to connect us with God and to involve us in his ongoing work.




spot on, patrick. one way i know creativity comes from God is that i'm happiest when i'm creating. i just wish i could remember that during all those times i'm procrastinating.
Posted by: terriaki | November 17, 2006 at 01:07 PM
I'm with you, Terri. I do those things I don't want to do, even when a long day of creative writing leaves feeling my best.
Posted by: Patrick Borders | November 17, 2006 at 01:10 PM
That reminds me of this quote from Carl Sagan ...."If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe." Unless we've created the universe, we can't write anything from scratch.
Posted by: Camper23 | November 17, 2006 at 02:00 PM
Or how about this one:
"Creativity requires the courage to let go of certainties."
--Erich Fromm
Sounds like creativity and faith require the same thing...
Posted by: Patrick Borders | November 17, 2006 at 02:16 PM