Belly of the Whale

Barbara Nicolosi had me snorting coffee. She began with this statement:

There are two kinds of people in the world--people who are artists and people who are supposed to support them. Figure out which one you are and do it with vigor.

Tell me, how can you not love this woman? When the mean old time keeper looked at his watch and raised his eyebrows, we shushed him and told Barbara to keep talking. We would've listened to her all night.

(Barbara, can you hear me?)

(Great, now I have that song stuck in my head.)

(Apparently, I can have entire conversations in parenthesis.)

(One more note: for those who aren't familiar with Barbara's work, you need to check out her website and blog. She heads up Act One Program, which trains Christians looking to go into the screenwriting biz. She's been called anti-Jonah, encyclopedic, and dare I add brilliant? She's also the author of the book, Behind the Screen: Hollywood Insiders on Faith, Film, and Culture.)

Her talk looked at who the artist is and how they need to be shepherded. This interests me for two reasons: I'm an artist, and I have a heart for spiritual formation, specifically for the creative minded. Let's be honest, a lot of people out there don't know what to do with us. I start talking and faces get this odd contortion like they do when viewing a monkey doing something unusual at the zoo. Because of this, I've led and written Bible studies and done talks specifically for the creative mind. We don't think the way engineers do.

But another reason her talk had me in tears: it's about being in the belly of the whale. It's about feeling cornered and scared and convicted and fulfilled and dependent on God because you have no where else to go. It's about coming to terms with who you are and what you're supposed to do because that's who God called you to be and that's what God called you to do.

I'm an artist. God called me to write. He called me to be a storyteller.

I'm an artist. God called me to be a prophet and priest for the masses.

This session cleared up a lot of things for me. In seminary, I was uncomfortable with the idea of working in the church. Not that working in the church is bad, mind you, but I sensed it wasn't my job. At the end of my time there, I went through this indepth program called LEAD that helps you determine your gifting, calling, ministry (and, um, problems, but we won't go there). Two things they said about me (they said more, but two things that pertain to this): you need to be in the world of artists, and you shouldn't be working for the church.

I had no idea what to do with that.

Sounds like a dream scenario, being an artist, but impossible. I forgot about it and took a job as a medical receptionist to pay the bills.

Several years later, Chris and I joined Christ Church. I fell in love with this church, and it had been a long time since I loved a church. I'm not talking about this lovely idea of loving the Church. I'm talking practical love of a church. I love this church, my church, Christ Church of Plano. Something inside of me, something that knows that God has something for me, that maybe this something has to do with being a prophet and priest, thought, maybe I should look at being ordained. Maybe that's what God has for me. Haven't others said that they believe I have the gift of prophecy (meaning Truth-telling, not reading tea leaves).

This session cleared that up for me. Nope. Ordaination is not what God has for me. Yes, He called me to be a prophet and a priest, but as an artist.

In the belly of the whale, we are called to die. Jonah had to die to himself, suck it up, and go to Ninevah. Of course, he never had a good attitude about the thing, but he did it. Being an artist, while I couldn't imagine a better life, a more fulfilling life, requires sacrifice. This is our ordeal. This is Orpheus singing to Hades and Persophone in the heart of the land of death because of his love for Eurydice. This is Jack Sparrow (sorry, Captain, Captain Jack Sparrow) fighting Captain Barbossa in the cave, even taking on the curse himself. This is Jason Bourne venturing into the hotel room of his first assassination because he needed to know the truth.

Being an artist is beautiful but scary and painful. We're going to camp on Barbara's session for a while. She has a lot to say about the beautiful and the scary and the painful.

PS: There's talk of being able to get the CDs and at some point mp3s of the main sessions. You can find more information here.

PPS: For more on the artist as prophet, you can read L.L. Barkat's post, "Go Ahead Artist, Prophecy" and Gregory Wolfe's article in Image, "The Artist as Prophet."