Art, spirituality and communication

The church has a convoluted relatinship with the arts. Caught between instrumentalist propaganda on the one side and a fear of unsoundness or disturbing the faithful on the other, Christian artists are easily misunderstood. And yet many of us are aware of the power of artworks to express important and transformative perspectives and insights through which God may speak and people may be edified.
Here's what one artist says:

I am at the bottom of the artistic food chain. I work alongside those who have proven their mettle – both with skill and with the merit of their idea. They leave me speechless at their fluency in those areas where I am merely learning my vocabulary.

I'm interested in that insight because it links with one of the things that I'm wrestling with in my homo loquens project: that art is one of the (admittedly more elaborate) ways that humans have of naming the animals of our experience. We don't only give words; single words are only the simplest way we have to pick out things that interest us and try to make them available to the mental gaze of others. But when we consider the way that words -singly or in conglomerations- draw attention, offer perspective, indicate evaluation and connote status, power or other relationship, then we are in a position to realise that a painting, sculpture, song or performance are involved in the same sort of thing only in more sophisticated or elaborate ways.

That noted, I was interested to read how this artist's spirituality is formed in dialogue with art and artists.

these artists, are such a crucial piece of my own spiritual formation and my own efforts to be consistent in my soul-identity. Not because we speak the same language – in fact I sometimes feel like a babbling toddler in the presence of some – but because they are not afraid to tear open the curtain on mystery and paradox.

This is, of course, just why some Christians and churches are suspicious or even hostile to the arts. The threat of awkward (but real) questions and the questioning of authority is enough to encourage Christians with interests in the status quo to stay well-clear of this potentially disturbing area of human endeavour. Perhaps the story of Vincent Van Gogh should give us pause for thought. The shame of this response on the part of Christians to the arts is the way that it witnesses to or generates or exacerbates a gap between the institutions of Church and seeking after truth and integrity. It is saddening to find that for many people who are earnestly seeking integrity and truthful expression, the church is seen to be an obstacle.

The article referenced by the hyperlink under the title asks how we can close that gap. I think that one way is to encourage two cardinal virtues in our communities of faith: one is humility and the other is valuing questions. Humility because part of the problem we have is a sense that we 'have' the truth, our attitude should rather be that the truth has us and we are in the process permanently of apprehending and integrating 'it' into our lives; we are people in process and in dialogue with The Truth. Valuing questions is related to humility: growth comes through questioning. Our questions are a sign that we are aware that we are 'on the way' (or on the Way). Our questions are also part of making sure that we are truly contextually related: in the world (even if not 'of' it). The artists' questions often pick away at cognitive dissonance, and in hearing and respecting those questions we come to know implicit questions we ourselves have but may deny. And in hearing and respecting them we can form a community of empathy with others in which we can learn together how to handle them. That is a proper 'posture' for spiritual growth and even evangelism: side by side, in community, in respect in commitment to understanding together.
This is what, I think, Paul means by language about holding onto the bonds of peace: a commitment to staying with people no matter how awkward their questions.