Dan Steigerwald
“I want to tell you that I really liked what was said this morning. I agree with you that we can have deep spiritual experiences through nature, art and beauty. I like that this church believes that people everywhere can feel the things you’re talking about, not just people in the church.”
The words of Robin, a spiritual wanderer (and wonderer), after his second visit to Crossroads. A man trying to make sense out of his own deep longings for meaning and connectedness with something higher. A man who “meant” only to take a swim at a local sports center one Sunday morning, but who ended up in a chair at a Crossroads’ service (the pool was not to his liking; he saw our church sign by the entrance to the sports center; and curiosity won the day…).
Robin’s comment came on the heels of a relaxed talk about my own observations on how the beauty of such things as nature, love, music, art and poetry often so deeply touch us that we’re temporarily carried away in ecstatic moments. In those short-lived “spiritual” experiences, I noted that we catch glimpses of perfection, of something higher and better than the shadow world in which we live. But then we experience a rapid descent into the ordinary; and our hearts are left sighing, longing to re-capture those moments and revel in their glory.
“Nostalgia”, as I intimated that Sunday morning, is a helpful concept to use in explaining that involuntary response of our hearts when we encounter exquisite beauty in nature, art or music. The word is derived from the combination of two Greek roots: nostos, meaning “a return home”, and algos, meaning “pain”. When put together, nostalgia becomes, literally, “a pain to return home”. When faced with the imperfect world in which we live (where sickness, death, decay, strife and loneliness taint the many “divine reflections” that are observable), I believe that every human being knows nostalgia in a spiritual sense. As John Eldredge puts it, we know, deep-down, that we were designed “to live in a world of beauty and wonder, intimacy and adventure all our days”. Where we now live, however diversely beautiful it may be, can only rightly be described as “shadowlands” (as C.S. Lewis called it).
Every human being feels to some degree a pain to return home, because God “has set eternity in the hearts of men” (Ecclesiastes 3:11). A time-bound, mundane, mortal existence just won’t do. This realm is a lesser expression of what God intended for us, only an echo of an ancient perfection for which we were designed. We can enjoy and sing about the ways it communicates the glory of God, as David did in Psalm 19:1-4. But what it is broadcasting is a unified message about another home where the beauty is unspoiled, a home where the perfection of the Author of beauty is mirrored in unrefracted glory.
My contention is that every person, postmodern or otherwise, feels the nostalgic ache for his or her true home with God. As the Apostle Paul put it, we, along with creation, groan “to be liberated from [our] bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God” (Romans 8:25). All the glimpses of a higher perfection that we catch through beauty in art and creation and the creativity of man only increase our longing to return home. The human spirit keeps crying out, give me Eden restored - the only place where my heart can finally come to rest.
Our capacity to be deeply moved by finer transcendent pulses from a home beyond may indeed be anesthetized by our fallenness and the sensory overload of consumerist culture. And yet, most of us who sojourn upon this earth do now and then still experience a sense of awe, pain and longing when encountered with a dazzling sunset, a hauntingly beautiful piece of music, or an exquisite work of art. What we who know Jesus can do as an act of love toward those who do not is this: help our fellow homesick friends set these experiences within the context of what we believe God has made known about Himself and His plans for humankind. Let them explore the possibility that these flash moments of ecstasy could be stepping stones to hope. Their fleeting nature testifies to the reality that this life is a beautiful but withering autumn which will one day break forth into eternal Spring.
I personally live as an optimist, and I am able to accept (most of the time) the complexities, mysteries and even the unfulfilled nostalgic longings I have; I can live this way, for I am confident that my true home awaits me. This hope helps me live as an agent of redemption in this present order: a person motivated to steward and draw attention to the reflections of God’s beauty in nature, in art, and in the symbols, rituals and dramas of the historic Church; a person there to remind people that these reflections are not ends in themselves, but signposts to provoke gratitude and groaning (of a good kind).
This hope also arouses my heart to a sometimes-intense anticipation about the glorious freedom of paradise to come. If what I occasionally feel or experience in ecstatic foretastes is even the slightest indicator of what lies ahead, I know I am on a trajectory toward a joy unspeakable! If you feel the way I do (homesick), may God help us to live and love so as to further swell the ranks of those who, in Christ, are joyfully homeward-bound.
1Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. 2Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, 3because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked. 4For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come. 6Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord. 7We live by faith, not by sight. – II Cor. 5:1-6
“If you find God with great ease, perhaps it is not God that you have found.” – Thomas Merton
Some practical implications for postmodern ministry1. Music and the creative arts can be wonderful bridges in our interaction with postmoderns, as they communicate a transcendent beauty that we all long to capture and live within. We can help each other to not get focused on the lesser expressions of glory (Acts 17:24-31). They are not the end as simply objects of appreciation, but they are signs pointing to a perfection and beauty far greater – and one that will ultimately be sustainable for those who give themselves to God.
Some Vehicles: church-sponsored art galleries; events at cathedrals which exude artistic beauty and mystique; music concerts with exceptional artists; poetry readings; trips to art museums….
2. Creation can be a great teaching platform, because it speaks its own unceasing language as the backdrop for our sharing about God’s reality, presence and desire to be known. Its song puts people in the frame of mind and heart to speak of higher things. It helps disarm heady rationalizations, and keep us framed in the realm of experience.
Some Vehicles: Group nature tours, shared vacations, environmental cleanup efforts, star-gazing events in the Summer; visual multi-media events featuring stunning natural scenes; retreats in beautiful areas; non-competitive sailing, canoeing and kayaking adventures….
3. Most people I’ve ever talked to can identify with nostalgia. At the end of their musings about the past, they sigh just like I do – wishing that they could get more tastes of what once was. It’s not that big a step to refocus their attention on the future, on the idea of “foretastes” of a better place that is coming. Maybe there really will one day be what Bruce Coburn calls “the festival of friends”.
Some vehicles: pub sharing; just being friends who don’t fake hope but really have it; growing in the art of recognizing the good and beautiful in this world and expressing gratitude to God for it wherever we are; prayer for those we know who feel no hope….
Ramblings
Dan’s article on nostalgia has some very interesting impications for how we connect with those in our culture and help connect them with God.
The author makes the point that people both inside and outside the church have had moments of nostalgia, moments when their hearts were full with joy and the experience of beauty. He then goes on to link those experiences to the fact that God created us for something better, he has set eternity in our hearts. It is the process of helping people to connect those experiences of nostalgia with the God who created those things.
What I like about this is the move towards contextualzing experience instead of arguing someone into an intellectual system. I think too many people today are turned off by any attempt to “proselytize.” Arguments don’t communicate well to a postmodern mind. Dialogue and sharing of stories and experiences do communicate and I think many people in this emerging generation outside the church have experiences that they do not have the categories to help interpret those experiences. I do think that people are looking for new containers to hold the data of their expereinces and we can help them in that process of contexualization and container development.
The author then goes on to give some practical ways in which this can be worked out in the church to help people to make the connection.
I can see in this approach a potential balance between theological categories (for lack of a better term) and the experiences of our existence. In the modern world we would present a set of propostions, ask for any arguments against those propositions, and then proceed to refute those arguments until a person had to either accept the “truth” or live with a lack of intellectual integrity. Today people do not want to have this level of discourse in general and really don’t care if they hold conflicting beliefs because they believe that life is complex. In this approach we are validating a person’s experience and helping them to contexualize it within the scope of eternity. It is not intellect to experience but experience to intellect. This could provide some profound insights into how we share the gospel and what apologetics turns into.
Another side note is the fact that people in the church are also searching for a spirituality that helps them to experience God instead of a purely intellectual system that does not touch the heart. I think if we could help those in the church to catch the vision of eternity, of our true home as the author put it, and have an eternal focus, they could fall in love with God and be fully committed to participating with him in his acts of redemption and the movement of his kingdom. I wonder how this look at nostalgia could shape how we think and talk about theology?