Thursday, July 12, 2012

Bezalel, Oholiab, and Flobots

I have recently found myself admiring the people most who have not forgotten who they are...what makes them "tick."  I will never understand it, but my current boss at Papa John's loves his job.  That may seem random to anyone who is reading this, but I say that because, of all the people I have ever met in management positions at that place (including myself), he is the only one I have ever met who genuinely wants to be there--and could be other places if he wanted.  Why then is everyone else there?  I was once a manager there to make more money.  I took the position to escape things that were happening outside of that job because I knew that it would take up a lot of my time, and it was a lot easier taking care of other people's pizza problems than it was dealing with my own.

Recently I posted a quote on Facebook that said,
"The creative adult is the child who survived." 
There is some truth to that--creativity in adults is many times attributed to a lingering curiosity from childhood that often times gets squished by "the real world."  I have begun listening to a band called Flobots again while on Marta.  I don't 100% agree with all that is said but I appreciate them deeply for 2 things: 1) taking a genre of music that is unfortunately deeply saturated with shallow lyrics and utilizing the style to say something meaningful and 2) allowing themselves to use their art as a means of communication.  For instance, Stand Up:
(heads up, it may contain some bad language...)

My intention with this blog post wasn't to get too personal as I have only just created the blog, but it appears it is going to happen anyway...  Considering I will begin Candler in the fall and I have just put my name in to begin the candidacy process (the first steps towards becoming ordained in the Methodist church), it feels like the path ahead of me is rapidly becoming set in place.  Where in the world does a degree in art fit in with that--lots of papers and history and theology?  I am trusting in God and am faithfully stepping where I feel I am supposed to be...but God will remember me, right?  In his plan somewhere, are my interests included?  And by that, I mean beyond beyond photoshopping our organist into the church directory:

The season of Pentecost is not too far behind us on the calendar.  Remember this text, or something like it?
When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them. -Acts 2:1-4
That is what I imagine when I think of the Holy Spirit coming down and making its presence known to people.  We who are spirit filled are born again and when God calls down the Holy Spirit for a specific purpose, sparks are going to fly.  Almost literally, it appeared to Moses in a bush on fire and he was made to take his sandals off.

The interesting thing is that when I was doing my devotion a few days ago titled "Skills for Work," a passage from Exodus came up.

Then the Lord said to Moses, “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts. Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you: the tent of meeting, the ark of the covenant law with the atonement cover on it, and all the other furnishings of the tent—the table and its articles, the pure gold lampstand and all its accessories, the altar of incense, the altar of burnt offering and all its utensils, the basin with its stand—and also the woven garments, both the sacred garments for Aaron the priest and the garments for his sons when they serve as priests, and the anointing oil and fragrant incense for the Holy Place. They are to make them just as I commanded you.” Exodus 31:1-10
Wait, wait...the "Spirit of God" came down with wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and all kinds of skills, why?  To make artistic designs...  Where is the speaking in tongues?  The prophets?  In chapter 36 of Exodus, it goes on to say that Bezalel and Oholiab were overwhelmed with help from everyone in the community because of all the skills and abilities they had to offer--not stuff.  So, will God be sensitive to everything that makes me who I am when showing me the calling that he has put on my life, as he does with everyone?  Playing sports, art, teaching, mission work, flipping pizzas... I do not know, but he did it with Bezalel and Oholiab.

Over the next few months, a lot is going to change, but I know that God is going to remain consistent.  I never would have guessed that I would be creating scriptural lessons based on elements of pop culture ranging from Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants to Call of Duty to The Avengers to Phineas and Ferb, yet here I am...moonlighting Bible studies...taking a moment to get back on the blog train.  We all lose sight of it, who we are, where we are going, which way is forward, or backwards...caught in the ever consistent spokes of time.  But, the interesting thing about serving a God who was before time, whose spirit hovered above the waters before when the Earth was formless and empty, is that there is nothing he cannot do, and nothing he won't do to show his love for us.  He is love. 

A well respected art professor of mine told me simply when I let him peak in at my fear of the future, "do what you love."  Maybe my boss at Papa John's has that figured out.  Maybe God is not limited by my fear.  And maybe, just maybe, the God, whose image I have been created in--the same God that orchestrated the creation of the universe--knows exactly who I am and what I want and need, and I just have to keep an ear out for it.  The worst kind of story is the one where everything always goes right.

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