Seeing

Very interesting chapter for me in Emily's book was about criticism. Seeing the real reason critique hurts and the gift only a critic can bring. As I agree that criticism is key in a life of an artist and experienced first hand how the voice of the inner critic can allow the art to die.

Criticism is key in the artist's life. How we handle our critics could be the difference between creating art that matters and allowing the art to die.

We are only offended because we forget we have died.
If there's one thing certain to change your life, it's death.
"For you died to this life, and your real life is hidden with Christ in God."
(Col. 3:3)
We live false lives when we hold on to the old life and refuse to acknowledge our death. If we grasp the threads of our comfortable lives, second things--like praise from critics--become first things.

The critical voice is teaching me my humanity, and that is not a bad thing.
There, in the clenched hand of the critic is a gift he may not realize he's giving you, one you don't recognize at first. But there it is, gift of your own smallness, your own Yes, I am a mess. Yes, I want your approval and agreement. Yes, I want to be loved and admired. Yes, I want to be right. The critic's words point out my insecurities--but in seeing those, he shows me myself.

When I finally see myself, I can be laid open before God. In the opening, I see the root of this desire for approval is less about the critic and more about me. I showed up on the scene of the world crying and clenching and needing salvation. So did you. So did your critic. But it isn't the critic's fault I am desperate for worth and security and approval and permission.
This is the shape I was born into, the curve of my flesh, the crookedness of my own heart, the twisted desire to be enough on my own and by myself.

Christ stretched out arms on the cross, wide open to the words and attacks of the critic, wide open to my sin-desire to be my own little god, wide open to receive the insults and the insulted, the sin of the offense and the sin of my defensiveness.
He was stretched out so I could be free.
Crooked is no longer my shape.
And so if I have died with Christ and been raised to life in him, how can I die again at the hands of the critic? What have I to fear if death is no longer a risk?

Fear drives out the love. When you work from fear, there is no love in your work. And we don't want your loveless art.
So give the world and yourself a gift, and stop.
You are the beloved. So take some time to be the loved.
The fact that you need time to be the loved means you are human. And we want art that comes from human hands inspired by a capable God. Otherwise you will make mediocre art at best.
If mediocre art is your goal, here are fourteen ways to achieve it:

• Make love to fear
• Apologize a lot
• Try to measure your impact
• Wait to feel qualified
• Compare yourself
• Fear the success of others
• Stay comfortable
• Have imaginary conversation with your critics
• Hold on to regret
• Keep impossible standards for perfection
• Demand appreciation
• Be easily offended
• Think there is only one right way to do it
• And by all means, don't take a risk

How we respond when confronted with the critics has the potential to be the most beautiful art we'll ever make--we have the capacity to reflect the relational glory of God no matter who we're with, what we're doing, or what's gone wrong. This is when art is a verb rather than a noun. It isn't something you point to, it's a way you live.

Jesus, may I always be an image bearer with a job to do. And not become a job doer with an image to maintain. Help me see myself, no longer crooked, but reflecting the glory of God no matter who I am with, what I am doing, or what's going wrong. May that be my way of life.

Keep CZECHING IN!