I’m exhausted. Mainly because I’ve been sick for three weeks and am just now recovering and this has been a full day… but exhausted nonetheless. That said, I feel this great sense of burgeoning revelation as I contemplate and meditate on all that I’ve encountered today on this first day of the symposium. Andy Crouch started us off with a bang (as I alluded earlier) and we had an amazing lunch with some great people with such enriching discussion.

After lunch the next plenary was a panel discussion with six of the speakers which was a lively, hysterical and sometimes poignant time - though I took no notes and cannot share why it was lively, hysterical, or sometimes poignant… you’ll just have to take my word for it (or not… but you’ll be missing out).

At dinner, we had the pleasure of sitting with the pastor of a church here in Austin as he shared with us how his wife had very recently passed and we felt so privileged that he would sit and share a few memories of her with us and we were able to weep with him both in sharing the sadness of his recent loss (she passed in February) and also in celebration of our great and glorious God who provides such comfort even in times of distress. I am always breath-taken by the hope that is evident in such sadness, the joy that reveals itself through pain, and the worship born out in suffering. Amazing grace, indeed.

Tonight, we had the joy of listening to Eugene Peterson as he described for us three artists who profoundly affected him in his pastoral ministry:

Willie Osso (sic?) - an artist who was the janitor at a church in the 50s where Eugene was put in charge of a small group of young artists who met on a Friday night. Willie was the night janitor and he and Eugene became friends. Willie was not a Christian and had no respect for the church due to his experience with the church in Nazi Germany (he had not heard of Dietrich Bonhoeffer) and was very concerned that Eugene was aspiring to become a pastor and thought for certain that such a life would ruin his new friend.

As their friendship grew, Eugene began going to Willie’s house for dinner before the Friday meeting and Willie decided that he wanted to paint a portrait of Eugene. I should stop here and mention an important statement that Eugene Peterson made regarding the difference between a job and a vocation. The artists that met with him on Friday nights all had menial jobs - but their jobs did not define them. They knew they were artists and referred to themselves as such. Willie was the same - an artist whose job was a janitor.

Anyhow, Willie wanted to paint Eugene’s portrait, so each Friday, Eugene would sit in silence while Willie painted for a little while, they would eat dinner and then walk the six blocks or so to the church for the meeting. This happened over a series of weeks and Willie would not let Eugene see the progress of the portrait. On one evening, Willie’s wife went over to see the almost complete portrait and was obviously aghast. When Willie finally showed Eugene the painting, what he saw was sobering. Eugene was in a black robe with a red bible and a gaunt face. When Eugene asked Willie what he and his wife had discussed, Willie said she thought he had painted Eugene as a sick man. Willie said that what he had painted was what Eugene would become if he did not turn back from his dream of being a pastor because the church would literally suck the life right out of him and give nothing back.

Eugene Peterson still has that painting - he kept in the closet of his study for over 50 years and took it out occasionally to compare and hope that the prophecy would never be true. Praise God that it has never come true.

Gerald - Eugene was pastoring a small flock that met in the basement and they were at the point where it was time to look at building a place for the congregation to meet. The denomination brought in an architect who had much experience at building churches. He came and met with them and gave a few potential designs without asking a single question or spending anymore than an hour with them. This did not work for them and they went to find their own architect.

Gerald (whose last name I do not recall) was an architect in town that had just started and Eugene went to meet with him. Gerald had never designed a church and knew very little about building one, but was very interested in what they were doing. Gerald met with them and began attending the services. He was very interested in the life of the church and asked questions and spent a lot of time getting to know the congregation and the mission.

At this point, Eugene mentioned the sculptor and architect of the tabernacle in the wilderness - Bezalel (Exodus 31:1-11) and illustrated how Bezalel, at God’s design and gifting, took the language of worship and the culture of Israel and wove it into the tapestries, fashioned it into the iconography, and shaped it into the sculpture that would be the centerpieces of the God-given place of worship. The crowning piece of this is the Ark of the Covenant, where the wings of two cherubim covered the Mercy Seat. Eugene at this point brings up the interesting fact that there is actually no seat… what the cherubim cover is actually an empty spot - the focus of all the sculpture and weavings and art is a place where nothing sits until God’s presence fills it.

Judith - (I think that was her name). An artist who had been invited to the church he was pastoring by some friends of hers at Alcoholics Anonymous. She was a very shy person who came after the service had begun and left before the service ended. At some point while Eugene was doing a series about David, she waited until the end and walked up to him and said that she just felt so lucky to be hearing this story… so very lucky. She did this a few times and eventually became a part of the congregation. The striking thing about her is how new everything was for her - how every story was received for the first time because she had never heard it before. She began to weave small tapestries for him that depicted something he would say or some element of a story he had told.

Pastoring Artists - during the ending Q&A, Eugene Peterson was asked if he had any advice for artists who were struggling to communicate with their pastor in much the same way as artists had communicated with him but have found that their pastor is either not clued in or just not interested. Eugene said the most remarkable thing… no, it must start with the pastor and it’s not the responsibility of the artist. He said he doubts he would have been as affected by these three (and there were many more through his life) artists if they were trying so hard to affect him or make him realize or understand something. It must start with the pastor and it’s a challenge to all pastors to be artistically aware.

Quite often through the Q&A, Eugene Peterson apologized for not having a more eloquent answer and yet with each answer I was thankful for the obvious wisdom that God had granted him. Rather than impress us with long-winded and theological answers… he stayed with the simple answer. His advice seemed ever-cognizant of the fact that we tend to mire ourselves with debating the details of theology when theology is actually learned by the living out of the Gospel and not simply through endless debate of detail. He decided very early on that it was more important to help people live out the truth of the Gospel rather than ensure they understood all of the nuance of the theology (I’m greatly paraphrasing him). He’s not opposed to the theology - but opposed to the debate of the finer points because it tends to prevent people from actually walking it out in daily life.

I did not start this post with the intention of posting almost the entirety of Dr. Peterson’s message… but as I wrote I realized just how much these stories that he told affected me. I have been at many times in my life, both an artist and a pastor. As a pastor, I’ve not been great at cultivating art and as an artist, I’ve not been great at cultivating relationship. You’d think I’d have been more aware coming at it from both sides… but, as I’ve previously mentioned… I have a strong tendency to think I’m right and those who disagree with me are either misinformed or arrogant. When I’m an artist, I tend to think I really understand the art and should be allowed to create and display for God’s glory that which I’ve been given - when I’m the pastor, I think I should be allowed to be the gatekeeper of the arts since I’m really the only one who knows whether or not something is truly inspiring. Oh wicked man that I am… forgive me, Lord for my duplicitous arrogance.