Last time, I shared the beginning of my conversation with my friend Nathan Bennett Adams about his perspective as an artist and poet who follows Christ. If you missed Part 1, be sure to check it out here to read about how Nate’s relationship with God expanded his interests and to see his thoughts on photorealism, human creativity, and how human creativity reflects the reality of who God is. We pick up in Part 2 with the rest of Nate’s thoughts on this topic:
Olivia: […] What does creating art, whether through words or visuals, teach you about God as Creator? Or, what things about Him does creating art help you reflect on?
Nathan: This is a word that I picked up a while ago. I think ‘aesthetic’ is understudied. I think the fact that we live in a world, not even just pregnant with beauty, but overflowing with beauty needs to remind us that God is interested in stuff that’s gratuitous.
And the other thing I’ve been freakin’ out about is: God within His creative right… There’s a couple times I’ve just taken a walk and you see certain things like the shape of certain tree leaves. No joke—was at some random spot just seeing some fish go by. The tail of this fish was identical to a leaf of a tree. I’m already thinking about what I just shared with you: “within God’s creative right, He can” and then I just completed that sentence. Within God’s creative right, He can repurpose. He can take something He’s “sketched,” spoken into existence—“I’m gonna repurpose that [leaf] and put it on the tail of a fish.” And it’s like identical. I’m not kidding! And then this is why as an artist that metaphor helps me know I’ve drawn the fish tail well, if I can pluck off this branch and just take it to my desk: “Yeah, that’s a funky fin. I wanna use that. I’ll just draw this leaf.”
So this declares to me, to come back to a very specific answer to your question, that God is layered. He layers reality. There are so many intricate details that the poet side of me observes a lot. And a poem that I wrote a while ago is that—it’s very short—but it’s, “I want to poem like a scientist,” because scientists look at the small details. They have to go way in to see something. And the poet has a role that he or she is going way into something in reality, and they’re tinkering; they’re poking around; they’re trying certain things out. So my poet eyes look upon reality and metaphor, and then my artist side would want to then put it back out or draw it. It’s not accidental.
And I’ve been having fun with that question: “It is not an accident that _____.” And those are really good lunch conversation starters. It’s not an accident that—whatever. It’s not an accident that we have taste buds. Or it’s not an accident that food gives us joy. And I’m like, back to gratuitous, we could have been a primate, we could have been an animal that all we do is eat—for what? Energy. And think of how many people treat food that way: “I just need to eat for lunch, because I need to get back to work.” And I’m like, wow, in that we have shown maybe a disordering of how we interact with reality, that maybe I’m not looking at work correctly, I’m not looking at body correctly, and I’m not looking at food correctly. And all of a sudden, I take a couple moments, and I see in Colossians that we can eat to the glory of Yahweh? That’s tying back to His creativeness, that He can layer reality in a way that [in] everything we have an option to participate in pointing back to Yahweh. And then that’s worship?? Are you kidding me?? That is so dope! It declares His realness.
Another thing, too, it just shows He’s a good storyteller. He’s a mastermind, right. So any kind of mastermind, we exalt. We kinda naturally see, “Wow, that was really clever; that was intentional; wow, that was really good design,” when you think of someone who’s invented something. And I wonder if we’ve gotten lazy or assumptive with Yahweh in those ways. And this is something I’ve been really careful with too because, “Nate, you’re an artist, you’re a poet, of course you do that. Of course you go on a walk, and you see a flower, and blah-blah-blah.” And ever since I was a Christian, I was so bothered by that type of response. Because my story did have such a contrast, that [people would say], “Of course you see God that way, because He saved you from blah-blah-blah.” And I’m like, don’t rob yourself of that! If we all have sinned . . . grace covers us and shapes us and reshapes us.
And one of the things that G. K. Chesterton says is that the mathematician—he will go mad. Why? Because he is trying to logically explain everything. And he’s like, “Consider the poet.” The poet is actually looking at a problem or a conflict and looking to explore it. And then he uses a very simple example right after that: that a mathematician would want to put heaven in his mind—he’d want to put it in his mind—and then with that, his head will explode; the poet wants to just put his head in the heavens. I was like, “That is so good!” Think of the posture difference. – And one thing that needs to be clarified (because when you quote somebody, if you don’t clarify, you’d be like, “Wow, Nate doesn’t like math,” or “He doesn’t like logical thinking or reasoning”): that’s just a good example of prioritizing or emphasizing.
So that has helped me, has really become a sown-in piece of fabric in my creed of “I want to see God big.” I want Him to break through my boxes when I’m tempted to put Him in a box. He shows that His reality is actually really big, and it’s really worthy of exploring. And I’m not talking about just His nature, I’m talking about His love, His graciousness, His patience—oh my gosh is He patient—He’s slow to anger. The other thing about what I have seen in being creative and Yahweh, is I’ve seen how it’s an invitation to kind of partake in His divine nature. So that really strong commission that we see in 1 Peter. Like ohhh snap. Those are ways in which I see specifically God’s creativity. And he spoke things into existence, man.
That’s why I think, going back to ‘we’re not perfect,’ therefore we’re not God, therefore when I go to replicate reality, I need to keep that close. And that helps me out a lot. So art has shown me and reminded me of how much I am not perfect. Reality is broken. And when I talk about the whole ‘you’re not perfect’—pursuing that when I draw is a good reminder of that. I’m not discrediting photorealism artists. The amount of skill that goes into it is bananas. So I don’t want to be misunderstood there too. That’s just as beautiful. They’re doing their best to replicate reality as true as it is. That’s a good commission or pursuit. If that’s your stylistic pursuit, amen for that, pursue that. But let’s start here where, because you’re imperfect, [you] accept your imperfect lines.
And so what I do is I force people to use just a pen, no pencil, so you have to accept your imperfect lines. That is something I did, so I saw the benefits of that. There’s no middle ground. You did it. You did your best, so you pursued it, and you messed up. You learn from your mistake, instead of a pencil [where] you can erase it. An athlete can never go back and erase it. So it’s kind of like that. So I wanted to share that because, an artist who declares reality is not right (there’s something that still needs to be redeemed, it’s not correct yet, it’s not perfect)—I think that’s good. I think that’s necessary.
So there’s a lot of times when uncomfortable images or words can be used edifyingly. It can be edifying. And I totally agree with Schaeffer, ‘cause he talked about that a lot. Flannery O’Connor did that a lot. She had pretty heavy stories and pretty heavy endings that weren’t resolved. I get it, we do have a story that ends in redemption, amen. We do have that. But I think, in ways, sometimes a reality snippet in that small line is that “This doesn’t feel redeemed yet. I do still feel like this is still bumpy roads at best right now. I don’t see the smooth road yet.” So I really appreciate when artists, filmmakers, storytellers, I can see sometimes illustrators, have a lot of creative license where they can do some really powerful stuff. Do you remember that quote by C. S. Lewis of the fear that we would become heads on sticks?
Olivia: I don’t think so…
Nathan: That we would basically become minds only without the heart, soul, strength? We would only become mind. And it looks pretty graphic, right? Because you’re just drawing a head on this stick. And I drew it, and I was like, “That’s really powerful!” So then I’ve kept that as a metaphor for me, that if I can illustrate certain things that I’ve been saying, like what if I drew a person without a mouth? They’re mouthless. Kinda like that Matrix scene where Neo was being forced to close his mouth—when we don’t value our words, if we become mouthless, what kind of world would we live in? And so I’ve thought about that, like ways in which I can depict reality or ideas, and it may be grotesque. So, you know a jellyfish has a heart but no mind?
Olivia: Oh wow.
Nathan: I drew one time a body of a man and a jellyfish just on his head. And I was like, this is a dilemma, that I think sometimes manhood has gotten into—that we’ve operated just without thinking. And I wrote another side to it too: but if you put in the other perspective, where it’s just mind and no heart there’s a dilemma here too. If you’re just heart and no mind, there’s another dilemma as well. So I think, again, that’s why I bring it back to—you don’t always have to illustrate something “beautiful.”
Olivia: So you kind of touched on this already, but is there anything else you’d like to say about how we can worship God through art?
Nathan: One thing that I would tie to that theologically is a study I did on what is worship. ‘Cause I think we all know, but sometimes we associate it with just music. “Worship was good today. I didn’t really dig the message.” There’s something there, that our words are forming something—and just pay attention to that. We should at least talk about that.
Worship is closely tied, Old Testamently to the fear of Yahweh. And I think that’s really crucial to keep that close—that the fear of Yahweh leads to worship. And I came up with a line of thought that what you fear is what you worship, what you worship is what you love. We are designed for worship. I think that’s probably the first start with answering your question. We’re designed to glorify Yahweh. It’s within our fabric; it’s within our DNA. So then, we see this, sometimes loudly, when it’s not directed to Yahweh. We worship still, because we’re made to, but other things than Yahweh.
And, yeah, I think I see it in the way I do art, like if I start being bothered or craving praise by my art, and I’m noticing—“why do I do my art? Why do I ‘art’ anything? Is it out of worship?” I can say “yes” all I want, but maybe in the middle of doing it I notice I’m having a lot of cravings, then I notice that back here I’m really not believing I’m doing it—or living out of “I’m doing this unto Yahweh.” And I can’t tell you how many times it has happened in the middle of a commission, and the lines aren’t working, or I keep messing up at a certain spot. And I’ll say this out loud: “Am I doing this unto Yahweh’s glory?” That usually is a definitive moment where beforehand I’m getting bothered and I’m not worshipping. Joy is very close to worship too theologically.
But I would think that, yeah if you’re worshipping Yahweh, it’s not just something you should do, or even like called to do. I’m saying like designed. You were made to. It is like you can’t help but do it. You’re gonna worship all the time. That’s what’s even scarier. That’s why it’s a tough pill. It’s like: you’re gonna worship—that’s a sentence—and it should be Yahweh. And I’m noticing now that matters a whole bunch.
To be continued….
Stay tuned for Part 3, where we talk about art in relation to gospel conversations and Nate gives some advice for those interested in developing their art skills.
To follow Nathan on his artistic journey, find him on Instagram @nathan.b.adams
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