Blessed is the man
who walks not in the counsel of the wicked,
nor stands in the way of sinners,
nor sits in the seat of scoffers;
2 but his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
3 He is like a tree
planted by streams of water
that yields its fruit in its season,
and its leaf does not wither.
In all that he does, he prospers.
4 The wicked are not so,
but are like chaff that the wind drives away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous;
6 for the Lord knows the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked will perish. (Psalm 1)
If David were only interested in “truth-content,” he could have written Psalm 1 without verses 3 and 4. The first verses establish that David is commending the man who meditates on the law of the Lord, and the last contrast the fate of the wicked (non-meditator) with the righteous. If all we’re looking for is “the message of the psalm,” we have it there.
But the image in the middle isn’t just a nice illustration of the message – when we try to remember the psalm a few hours from now, it will be the message. We may or may not be able to recall the words of the psalm’s “message,” but we’ll never forget the image of a green and fruitful tree by a stream contrasted with a husk being tumbled on the wind.
This is the power of creativity.
Where imagination is the mind’s ability to form mental images, creativity is the ability to connect ideas or images and to combine the elements of the world in new and beautiful ways. Psalm 1 demonstrates both. David connects the images of fruitful and dead trees to the idea of meditating on God’s law or not – he takes two unrelated concepts and makes a fruitful (get it?!) connection between them. And he expresses this thought in a poem, which is an artful arrangement of words. They might not strike us as “beautiful,” partly because they’re in translation and partly because ancient Hebrew poetry had different conventions from modern English poetry, but the brevity, vividness, and depth of even the English translation have a sense of beauty. It’s certainly more memorable than “This man’s soul is positioned to receive energy, joy, and life that leads to productive snore snore …”
People who live in my corner of Christendom already tend to get twitchy at talk of “imagination;” the thought of “creativity” on the same shelf as the Bible might cause full-on delirium tremens. So a word of caution is in order. Creativity has nothing to do with the nature of truth, including biblical truth; so “creative theology” that involves monkeying with the Apostles’ Creed, Ten Commandments, or Great Commission is like baking bread in a room-temperature oven: you might call the results “creative,” but also “a squishy lump I don’t want to eat.” That’s why it’s important to start with the root of learning!
Creativity is about the appreciation and articulation of truth – “speaking” it to ourselves in vivid and compelling ways. As one pastor says, “The effort to say freshly is a way of seeing freshly. The effort to say strikingly is a way of seeing strikingly. The effort to say beautifully is a way of seeing beauty.”
For an example, consider how William Cowper takes the basic concept of John 13:7 – “Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter” – and creates a beautiful work from it:
Here, creativity serves the truths of Scripture by speaking and setting them in ways that captivate our hearts. Beauty helps truth sing in our souls.
What does this mean for our meditation?
Preparing the heart
Creative works can help prepare the mind and heart for meditating on Scripture. You can begin a meditation session with a worship song, a poem, or a picture of a painting, pondering it to slow yourself down and compose yourself for the Word. In one of my seminary classes, we started several sessions by meditating on Rembrandt’s “Return of the Prodigal Son” (the painting at the top, and it was a beautiful experience. Meditating on a creative work can prepare you not just to focus, but also to love what you’re about to read.
Nurturing love
Christianity has inspired centuries’ worth of music, poetry, and visual art, to where there are too many examples to list. Finding art that treats the same theme of a passage you’re chewing on can help you steep yourself in it more thickly.
The “easiest” way to do this is to have a steady diet of art in your life – to replace some of the time wasted scanning news sites and social media with meditating on a poem, painting, song, or architectural work instead. Nearly every time I read about resurrection, especially Jesus’ resurrection, I think of this motet, because I have listened to it so many times.
That song, and the Malcolm Guite poem it’s based on, make Jesus’ resurrection more real and powerful to me.
In a meditation session, if “this reminds me” prompts you to remember a work of art connected to your text, it may be worth finding it again (as long as that doesn’t lead you to distracted scrolling). Or if there’s a text or theme that resonates with you, searching for a work that enriches it is worth the time.
Making your own
Stay with me.
Just like no one sees your journal – you’re reflecting, not publishing a commentary – no one has to see the poems, sketches, or lyrics you make to help you meditate. Remember what we read – “the effort to say beautifully is a way of seeing beauty.” If something moves you – or if you know it should move you more than it does! – employ your own creativity to see the beauty of it.