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for those He called, a review of sam mahlstadt’s “creative theology”

Today, I have the unique privilege of reviewing Sam Mahlstadt’s very engaging Creative Theology.

Creative Theology is a simple book that imparts a careful wisdom. Sam carefully traces a narrative of Creation to Fall to Restoration and bids all of us, made in the image of the Creator, to journey these scenes toward a new found sense of the creative spirit within the fabric of our souls. As a principally popular work, the careful, cursory reflection on the place of the creative call within each of our lives is at once engaging and convicting. We are taken into a conversation that expects a response, a narrative that we find our very being within, whether we realize it or not.

As an artist myself, moreover as an artist who is being trained theologically to engage the discipline and practice of creation from the perspective of serious scrutiny and engagement with the Church, I found several strengths to Sam’s book that I haven’t yet noticed in other popular works in the past few years about the people of God and the creative process. Sam is careful to identify each and every one of us as creatives, not as artists. The advantage to this is multifaceted. First, he takes care in allowing those called to the discipline of art to find their calling legitimate. Second, while honoring the call of the artist, he also honors the creative call that is upon all of us, upholds it, and recognizes that the children of God by nature create, but their awareness of this beauty is often truncated by self-deprecation and doubt. Sam manages to at once universalize the creative spirit and, at the same time, keep the integrity of the artist’s particular vocation.

Moreover, Sam envisions what I would consider one of the more realistic hopes for the Church when it comes to its relationship to the arts. As opposed to other works that celebrate a liberal view of art to the extent that the Church becomes a storehouse for whatever thing has been haphazardly pieced together, Sam draws from the Tradition and upon history, looking back to note the deep theological care that was part of artistry for centuries which made it such an important facet of the Church. While Sam, like many, passionately advocate the restorations of the arts to the Church, he refines this plea with a theological sensitivity that at once holds the mooring of orthodoxy and, at the same time, invites the broad brushstroke of the creative questioner.

Finally, Sam has produced a work that is particularly aware of the tension it stands it. Near the close, he articulates well the mystery of Faith, the Christ who has come, is come, and shall come. The kingdom is at hand, the kingdom shall be. Sam places the need for beauty in the breath between this life and the eschaton and articulates the reason for our creative spirit as being intrinsic to the reason of God.

As we are told, those He called, He also justified. It might well be considered, those He called, He also justifies in their labor, in their skill, in their creation.

As a popular book for a non-academic audience seeking to consider the place of creativity in the life of the Church, I warmly commend Creative Theology.

Full disclosure: I did receive a copy of the Creative Theology eBook from Sam for review. But, as always, these words are mine and exactly what I think.

let’s talk about sex — my review of ally spott’s ebook

Today is something a bit different than the usual, for today I get to place you in front of a little eBook with a big dream, which weaves deep truth into tender mercies.

Asking All the Wrong Questions: Why Christians are Waiting for Marriage for Sex by Ally Spotts is a delightfully honest, simply phrased exploration of why it matters that we wait for sex. In a short space, Ally walks through the muddier waters to the places of life, delicately accounting the journey many high schoolers and college students experience.

There were several moments while reading the text that I found myself nodding deeply, feeling old, soul things stirring up again:

“The primary purpose of sex is oneness.”

“Friendship takes time to build. But dating gives you space to do it.”

“It takes strength to stick it out when you don’t feel happy. That strength is a muscle that needs to be exercised. Self-denial and self-sacrifice won’t define every seasons of your relationship but they do build a sturdy marriage.”

If you work with high schoolers or college-age students who are navigating the tumult of identity and grace, I commend Ally’s words to you. She has a special love for young adults and a passion to be present with them, honestly and holistically, and to seek the marvelous in the midst of what has become legality: these are words of embodied grace.

(I do have this against here: Ally does not preserve the Oxford comma. Read at your peril.)

Disclaimer: I did receive a free copy of Ally’s eBook for review, but full disclosure–I would have bought it anyway.

(i am) not alone

Others, out of well-intentioned, utterly useless ignorance, may point to my Christian faith and say, “You’re too blessed to be depressed.” And their trite rhymes poke new pain in a deep wound. I am keenly aware of my tremendous blessings; that even they are not enough to wrest me from Depression’s beastly grip is reason all the more for despair. If God has set His love on me, if Jesus has borne all my burdens, if I am truly made a new creation by the indwelt Spirit, then how, how am I so held captive still? As many times as I have been attacked by this demon, I have turned to my Savior and begged, “Why?” I don’t know that I’ll find an answer in this life.

– Tamara Lunardo in Not Alone: Stories of Living with Depression, edited by Alise Wright

My eyes slip open around fifteen minutes past eight. Sunlight peeks through drawn blinds. My room, full of books and memories, the stains of laughter buried in wooden shelves and joy woven into a worn rug, caught in a moment of quiet, ringed in endless morning light.

But I can’t move.

My eyes have slipped open to find myself as I ever was, still me, still this, still something not quite what I think I should be.

I stare up at the ceiling and begin the battle in my mind.

Dallas Willard says that every morning he wakes up and acknowledges the Trinity. Can’t I do that? Isn’t that what will make all this work? Won’t that make me feel normal in my own skin? … Maybe I just won’t go to class today. Stay here in bed. It’s safe here. Comfortable. I’m tired, right? I just need some time to recover. Call it a personal day. I’ll just stay here. Because I’m tired of not being well-liked. I’m tired of not feeling that I have friends wherever I go. Why do other people have that? What’s wrong with me? Me. I’m the problem. I’ve always been the problem. I just need to stay here. I just need to be safe. Just for now.

By noon I consider that I haven’t eaten anything and wonder if I should go downstairs.

That requires me to shower, to change, to move my body. Somehow the effort to rise from my bed, slide my legs over, and stand, to walk, to move, to even be proves too much.

I answer email on my iPhone. Check Twitter. I seem active. I fool everyone. I go through the motions. People think I am well. I have done my part.

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