Overall, I greatly enjoyed this book. Here are my chapter by chapter thoughts:
In the first chapter Trevor Hart tackles the more broad question of why the arts should be included in theological discussions, specifically one concerning the Incarnation. In approaching the issue, Hart deals with Immanuel Kant and his concept of art and artistry. Ultimately he finds Kant lacking. Hart's logic, in places, bears similarities to Matthew Crawford's The World Beyond Your Head, which also takes Kant to task, specifically in how Kant attempts to 'intellectualize' being, following in the footsteps of Descartes. Crawford's argument is largely directed towards the results of Kant's philosophy as it has played out in American society, specifically in regards to mediated attention or presence. But the issue which Hart raises is rather similar, but more on a theological rather than anthropological level. Where Crawford is arguing for the significance of the material and physical world in regards to personhood and identity and being, Hart is arguing for the relevance and even significance of artistry rooted in the physical world for theology. The Incarnation, for Hart, is essentially the crux of the argument because in God becoming flesh and being real in the material world God has invested a significance to physicality. An interesting implication of Hart's argument is that if one neglects the material world (including the arts therein), one is actually missing out on some of God's revelation of himself.
Malcolm Guite engages the artistic realm of literature in relation to the Incarnation in the second chapter. As he explores poetry he makes the discerning observation that "...the arts are never discarnate..." (32), that is, their very embeddedness in time and space and sense, having their beginning and end there, makes their engagement of transcendence--that which is beyond the physical, material realm--innately incarnate. Additionally--and probably one of the essential core concepts of the chapter--is Guite's insistence that in the Word coming to the world, his redemption included language itself: Christ came to redeem language as well. Then Guite carries this redemptive role of Christ forward, arguing that the 'special task' of poets and writers is to take those words which have been exploited and corrupted and "restore them to better use" (37). Guite's engagement of the concept of Christ as the Word Incarnate, while brief, is excellently crafted to explore the legitimacy (and even essentiality) of the art of literature for the exploration and even deeper understanding of the Incarnation.
Andrew Rumsey weaves words like a master wordsmith in the third chapter, as is most appropriate for the chapter is focused upon poetry. Where Guite argued for the legitimacy of words and the significance of Christ coming as the Word, Rumsey highlights the particularity of poetry, and how that particularity allows it to build up meanings and understandings in a way cold intellectualism (such as that of Aristotle) cannot. He writes, "Particularity is the crystallisation of life, reality given distinction and definition" (47). And I think one of the underlying themes of his chapter is that poetry embodies a literary reality which stands apart from other literary endeavors, and in a similar way Christ, in the Incarnation, is a man who is much more and much different. As poetry uses regular words to weave wonders, so God used man himself to weave something wonderful beyond description in the Incarnation. Rumsey upholds that poetry explores the world and utilizes the word in a unique way, but it is a way which can and does glorify God and highlight the Incarnation in a way which other artforms (Or literary forms) do not.
Stepping beyond the literary focus of the previous two chapters, the fourth focuses upon dance. Sara B. Savage does a fascinating job building a case for the significance of the embodiment of Christ. Nearly two-thirds of the chapter is focused on dismantling the intellectualism which arose out of Christianity's embrace of Greek philosophy. This focus upon the spirituality of Christianity and submersion of the physicality of being is of high significance, especially in regards to femininity and the female body. She wisely points out that dance has always been controversial in the church, with a large portion of its rejection hinging on the sensuous associations with the female form. She points towards how this aversion of physicality and rejection of the body has come down harshest upon women. As an interesting corollary to this aversion regarding the physical body, she points towards the vulnerability which comes with embracing embodiment. As sexual love is perhaps the climax of this vulnerability, she points towards it quickest, noting, "Life would be so much simpler if bodies were objects, our vulnerability could be 'controlled'" (71). But this embodiment is the key to the social and communal life the Christian is called to, even as--through unity with Christ--the believer participates in the trinitarian 'dance' of the Godhead. Her connections on the latter point are less developed, but I think I perceived where she was going, and it is in the union in/with Christ that a believer partakes of Christ's nature, is united to other believers, and there communes (or has communion) with God and fellow sons and daughters of God. She concluded her chapter with an explanation of a dance which embodied the brokenness of Christ on the Cross and his ascension to glory, all of which we share in. While I liked her description of the dance at the end of the chapter, I felt more like it was an example of how theology could be embodied through dance and less an example of the best way to do it. Yet I have to note that I was merely reading about the dance, to experience it with the accompanying music would be something altogether different, and that, in itself, may be the greatest affirmation of what she argued throughout the chapter.
Chapter 5
In the fifth chapter Jim Forest argues for the relevance of icons. I'll admit I began reading the chapter with a rather unsure engagement. Forest does a decent job of raising the significance of icons, and even a solid job biblically supporting their use (noting Col 1:15 and that Christ as the 'image' of God can also be accurately translated as the 'ikon' of God). The historical support he musters is tentative at best, better supporting the existence of continual controversy surrounding icons. In the latter part of the chapter he walks through a summary/analysis of a couple of different paintings/icons. The theological depth and insight he draws out of each is fascinating and evidences a huge depth of skill and wisdom in their creation, yet a part of me wonders how much of that depth is accessible to the common man. I saw it best when it was laid out for me, how many miss the depth and settle for the surface level fascination and obsession with icons which is more akin to idolatry than spiritually aware engagement with the art?
One of the most intriguing and enjoyable aspects of this book is the reality that most of the contributors are artists, and their 'way' with words tends to delve emotively beyond mere surface meaning. While the writers are striving for theological excellence, they seem to also delight in a sort of literary dance, one which strives to not merely relate to the reader intellectually, but which also aspires to ignite the reader's heart and awaken a longing in them. Of all the artists included in the book, Lynn Aldrich did the best job pulling me and my heart alongside her own in her artistic journey. In the sixth chapter Aldrich acknowledges and pays homage to some of the heritage of sculptor which she herself is a culmination of, but she also conveys an almost journey-like process to her comprehension and enjoyment of the art of sculptor. Instead of merely pointing to some specific sculptors and proclaiming that they are a perfect example of this or that theological and artistic ideal, perfect in execution, she instead exposes her heart. She humbly acknowledges the amount of pride she approached one art exhibit with, yet also conveyed how she was astonished and captivated by the art displayed there, striving to sculpt with words what it was about the sculptures themselves which captivated her. And she does an excellent job drawing the reader alongside her as she explores her journey there. The chapter concludes not as an exhaustive or cumulative list of reasons why and how sculpture can engage the theological concept of the Incarnation and help convey it (or even help us understand more about it), but rather she draws the reader in, inviting him to experience what she has experienced and understand for himself the depth and grandeur which she has found.
Again, it is worth noting that she also takes the Kantian concepts of the intellectual life (disparaging the physical body) to task and discards them pretty effortlessly along the way.
There is some level of intriguing irony in the fact that a book edited by Jeremy Begbie and focusing on the Arts does not have a chapter really dealing with music in any way until nearly the end. What is fascinating is the focus of the chapter. Graham Cray chose to engage the intersection of the Incarnation and the art of music at the cultural level. The first pages of the chapter are utilized to establish the cultural significance and relevance of popular music, specifically when it is considered not merely in the light of musical or lyrical content, but also in the context of the writer/singer/performer and his/her own cultural context. This enables Cray to situate two specific albums of Marvin Gaye in the context of his struggle with his religious and legalistic upbringing, a disastrous relationship with his father, and his ultimate failure to deal with his own internal struggles with temptation. Rather than dictate how music (or 'pop' music) might be able to contribute to a theological discussion on the Incarnation, Cray simply and engagingly does it. In treating Gaye's albums (and the songs therein) as solidified forms of art, they can be perceived to be an outflow of the struggle Marvin found himself in between his moralistic and overbearing upbringing and his desire to be good and do good. The popularity of the albums points to their poignancy and resonance with the culture at large surrounding him. And yet, in them, we also see a man dealing with temptation and struggling to find his way amidst the chaos of life, and doing so poorly. Cray takes Gaye's struggles with temptation and ultimate surrender to them, contrasting it with Christ's temptation and how He dealt with and responded to it. In the end, Cray allows Gaye's failure to illumine Christ's triumph, and challenges the reader to walk Christ's path instead of Marvin Gaye's.
The title of the final chapter, written by Jeremy Begbie himself, was slightly misleading, at least to me. Its title reads, "Through Music: Sound Mix," and so I expected some sort of incarnational trinitarian contemplation rooted in the sonic dynamic and reality available in modern sound mixes. Instead, the 'mix' Begbie has in mind is simply that of polychorality, the utilization of more than one note at once - even down to a minimal two notes sounded simultaneously. And yet, in his insightful and engaging manner, Begbie lays out the spatially restrictive thinking which binds too many minds when attempting to consider both the dual natures of Christ (fully divine, fully human), and even the tripartite existence of the trinity. Visual conceptions of the Godhead truly limit it spatially, for the human tendency is to assume no two things can occupy the same physical (or even visual space). And yet music, and specifically notes, can in fact occupy the same space, and yet retain their distinctiveness. Without delving too deeply into his chapter, suffice it to say that he clearly points out not only the incarnational and trinitarian conceptions this more aural understanding opens to the theologian, he also points towards the communal implications as well. His ideas are much more fully developed in his books Resonant Witness and Theology, Music and Time. That being said, this chapter is phenomenal and pretty much what I expected when I first opened the book.
Though I didn't quite know what to expect, and I was slightly disappointed to find out that Begbie merely wrote the introduction and the concluding chapter, in the end this little book was a very engaging and fascinating read. More than anything else, it points towards the essentiality of the arts to theology. Theology cannot merely dictate to the arts, but it must engage and even allow itself to be shaped by them (when the art itself aligns with and allows a deeper understanding of a Biblical truth). More than anything else, the book argues that in the theological conversations of our day, art and artistry should have a voice. The level of authority of that voice might best be left for another discussion than this, yet the contribution art (even in many forms not addressed/discussed in this book) cannot be denied. I greatly enjoyed the book and will highly recommend it in the future.