value - Janet Hanson

Art is collaboration between God and the artist. ~Andre Gide

In composing a picture, I’ve been told to “attribute a value” to each space. Light and shadow, highlight and color, your eye will be drawn to what the artist wants you to notice.

Five minutes into the art lesson, and I’m stuck on the question, how do we know what to value? Are we born with a bias toward treasure over trash?

There are some who would claim we learn by artistic interference: By art we are taught what to value, the artist teaches us to see.

Is it true? Do we love a sunflower more because Van Gogh captured its beauty? Would we be indifferent to bird-song if no poem or flute tried to capture its tone? Would a cup of hot tea with lemon seem pointless if British mysteries weren’t solved in its proper company?

Maybe not. But few would deny that scriptwriters and story tellers, pundits and pop-singers influence our values, and not always for good. Yet, yielded and humble, as tools in the hands of the Creator, the same artistry can open our sin-blinded eyes.

For how does God communicate truth to us, but by image, and story and song?

The Image of God? Every human being.
The Story of God? Redemption through his Son.
The Song of God? Joy-filled delight in all he has made.

These are the values the original Artist has assigned, and he calls us to sing, write, labor and dance to what matters to him.

A Vessel Of Value

Recently a friend turned to me with a puzzled look and said, “I’m surprised! In spite of your being a glass-is-half-empty person, your writing is filled with hope!” I know, I’m startled too. There’s no way I can fake it, no artificial hope-flavor can mask woeful sighs. But every time I wade in gloom, hope bobs to the surface and invites me to play.

Maybe this is a divine side-effect: The vessel will absorb what it carries to others. When we,

by pencil or piano,
by hammer-stroke or brush-stroke,
by conversation or keyboard,
by gardening or grading papers,

carry love and redemption, carry beauty and hope, carry truth and trust into the world God loves, we stain our own hands and hearts with our gifts.

How has art pointed you to what God values? Where is he using you as his instrument?

Photograph: Claude Monet, Woman With A Parasol–Madam Monet and Her Son, 1875

Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts. ~Albert Einstein

Last week one of four renditions of Edvard Munch’s The Scream sold for an astounding $120 million at Sotheby’s auction. When the gavel fell to deafening cheers, the proud but unidentified winner willingly forked over the record amount for only one reason. The painting was a true original.

Of course, counterfeits abound, including comic parodies of Munch’s familiar work. One image features an alarmed Piglet, another, Lisa from The Simpsons. The Home Alone actor inspired many of us to mimic the classic pose for the camera. Quality reproductions and forgeries are easily found, appropriate for a dorm room, but worth almost nothing.

Deep down we know the worth of the authentic, the one-of-a-kind, whether a Monet or Babe Ruth baseball, and many of us would empty our pockets for the chance to give one pride of place in our home. We would rearrange the furniture, banish our paint-by-numbers and cheesy memorabilia to the garage; display carefully, and diligently protect our prize from harm.

We know how to care for, advocate for, to move heaven and earth on behalf of what has value. The question is, what do we believe is worthy of that care?

Jesus kept it simple: God matters, people matter, God’s plan for his creation matters. (Matthew 6:33, Mark 12:29-31). The rest will come as needed, if what God values is given pride of place.

Sound obvious? Maybe, but God’s values are not easily chosen in the heat of the moment, with plenty of counterfeits on the auction block as well.

What are you tempted to value above the things that really matter? What would you give anything to have?