Art that Moves

"...for it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure." (Philippians 2:13)

I appreciate good art. Now I know that statement can be rather provocative, for it can inevitably lead to the question of what constitutes "good art" from "bad art." And of course, there's the question of what even constitutes "art" itself. But other than saying that good art moves me deeply and/or causes me to think deeply about important truths and/or to see something from a different perspective than I might be inclined to (and thereby cause me to think deeply...), these questions are beyond the scope of this blog today.

I thank my mom, in large part, for my love of good art. Not only is she a remarkable artist in her own right, but I remember growing up that there were a number of books filled with images of paintings from many of the masters. No, I didn't spend a lot of time poring over them, but I do remember looking through them from time to time and marveling at the skill of the artist. (Not to mention marveling at my mom's own handiwork!)

So what I'd like to do today is two things. First, via this YouTube video, let me introduce you to an artist of a different sort. Her medium is quite different and unfortunately is not something that can be hung in an art gallery. She "paints" with sand on a backlit sandbox. This video is the most moving of the ones I've seen of her work. It's a little long (8.5 minutes), but take some time now to watch it if you can, then I want to make a final comment...

Kseniya Simonova

When I showed this to my son, Nathan, this past weekend, he made an interesting comment. He mentioned that one thing he was most impressed with was how she is able to "see what's not there and remove the rest." In other words, she constantly knew where she was going with her work, seeing in her mind what she wanted on her "canvas" and then transforming what was there into what she knew could be there, and would be when she was done (before she went on to morph it into the next image she envisioned!).

As I reflected on Nathan's observation this morning, I had my "coram deo" moment... Isn't this what God does with us when we humble ourselves before Him and allow Him to do His work in us? The penalty of our sin was dealt with at Calvary, and now the power of our sin is broken as we fix our eyes on Jesus, confessing our sin before the Lord, growing in grace and knowledge. God removes our sin ("as far as the east is from the west" the psalmist tells us), slowly and ever-so-imperfectly (this side of heaven) revealing His image and transforming us into the character of Jesus. If you know the Scriptures well, you know this is His purpose, to conform us into the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29). Theologically, we refer to this as "sanctification" as God makes us "holy" (again, like Him; cf. 1 Pet. 1:16). Peter says we become "partakers of the divine nature" (2 Pet. 1:4). This is both an act as well as a process. In a very real sense, we are "becoming what we are."

This gives me great hope. The words of Paul in Philippians that I started this blog with remind me that God sees in His mind what He wants on His "canvas" and will do His work to transform me into what He knows can and will be there when He is done. It is God's pleasure and for His glory that He does this work. And it is my greatest delight when I cooperate with Him in that work, as well as my greatest frustration and hardship when I don't!