Today, I preached my first sermon. Well, not really my first. Drama and music and poetry are sermons, and I’ve done these many times over. But today was my first stand-at-the-podium-and-share-prose kind of sermon. And it was my last official chapel at Union. It couldn’t have been more perfect. Such beautiful hearts, sharing such beautiful things.
A very special day.
I’ve been asked to share the sermon, so here it is.
Arts Caucus and COPS folks…I love you all.
“Please Play”
“Every child is an artist. The problem is remaining one once [we] grow up.” Pablo Picasso said that.
This past fall, a group of Union students, staff, and myself met for a workshop centered around The Artist’s Way. The Artist’s Way is a twelve-week devotional, designed to help adults reconnect to and deepen their creativity. Julia Cameron, its author, contends that all of us creative, because we’ve been made by a Creator. And as we connect to this creativity, we connect to our Creator in a most—if not the most—vital of ways.
In our workshop, about half-way through, we realized that almost all of us were members of the Arts Caucus or COPS or both. That the creativity born in us as children and the creativity of our own children were a constant source of life for us. And in going through the book…as we re-connected to our creativity, we reconnected to who we were as children. As we approached daily life with this creativity, we approached daily life as our children were. And through it all, we found a connection to our Creator—however we named that Creator—in a rich, deep, and profound way.
Psychologists and creativity experts have, for decades, been examining the necessity of play for human evolution and health, both for children and adults. I would contend also…that play is the deepest form of prayer, the first form of prayer, the first form of prayer wired into us from birth, that we come out of the womb naturally doing. Play is how we develop, but it’s also how we grow into ourselves. And this growth shouldn’t stop once we reach a certain age.
But so often it does. We are told by our superiors—the minute we begin growing—that we must be in control, say and do the “proper” thing, and be afraid, be very afraid, of mistakes.
How can you be a child—how can you be an artist—with such conditions? Children never concern themselves with being in control. And with creativity, you surrender, you don’t control. Children never concern themselves with what is “proper”. With creativity, you surrender what is “proper” to find what is true. And children are especially never afraid of being wrong. Creativity welcomes mistakes. A mistake is a discovery. A new option. Something to giggle about. For children and artists, nothing is sacred, and thusly everything is. Especially…when it comes to God.
So often, when I talk about these things, I’m challenged with a question, here at Union. I’m asked: “Kari…what exactly is an artist?” This question, to be honest…really annoys me. More than anything, it makes me sad. For, if a person can only refer to the identity of artist as a “what”…they stopped playing a long time ago. Is it important to discuss art, and the role of artist? To talk about both critically, theologically? To define them? Absolutely. I have reveled in so many delicious conversations with so many of you. But we have to be careful with our talking. For there’s the temptation, as adults, to use talk as a way to be in control. As a way to be “proper”. As a way to avoid mistakes. To talk about the identity of artist so much that we talk it out of ourselves. Until the identity of artist becomes estranged from us, becomes a concept, a “what” that lives in our head. Instead of a “who”, a living, breathing, identity that we claim and live out. Children don’t critically discuss why they paint. They just paint. God didn’t critically discuss why we have a spleen. We just have a spleen.
We’ve heard two Scripture passages today. The first [1 John 1:1-3]…I’m not one to take the Bible literally, but I couldn’t quite help it in this case…“…we should be called ‘children of God’. And that is what we are.” It doesn’t say “children and adults”. It just says “children”. In looking at this verse, several of us remembered how Christ often pointed to children as models of faith, especially when their play was annoying the adult disciples. In several places throughout the gospels, Jesus would protest: “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” This made me think. Perhaps there is no such thing as “adult”. Perhaps, in fact, we are actually—all of us—older children. And that is how we should approach life, and receive the kingdom: everything our Creator has to give us.
The passage also says that as children “we will see God as God really is.” And in the second passage [Luke 24: 36b-40]…the adult disciples are having a bit of trouble seeing God as God is. Jesus stands in front of them, resurrected in a new form, freely offering an incredible gift. But the disciples are trying to be in control. They’re trying to do what is proper. They’re terrified of making a mistake. In short, they don’t get it. They do what adults do best when the unexpected occurs: they freak out. Jesus has to calm them down and say “it’s me.” And finally they’re able to celebrate. And receive him. I can’t help but think, if Christ had appeared to twelve five year olds: the scene would have been very different.
How often does Jesus stand in front of us in a new form, and we just can’t see it? Those expressions artists wish to bring into worship services, and congregations get nervous that they’re not “proper”? Those services that, heaven forbid, have adults and children together, and congregations are worried that they’ll get out of control? How would our spiritual communities look if we weren’t so worried about making mistakes?
How would our lives look?
This is my last reflection at Union. And before I leave, I would like to issue a challenge to everyone here, including myself.
Please…revisit your first form of prayer.
Please play.
Play every day. Play as children do: as if your life depended on it.
Because…your life does depend on it.
