The Raw Material for Beauty (Revised)An Essay on Suffering, Creativity and Hope
This blog post is dedicated to a friend and an artist who ended his own life on Sunday morning, January 22, 2012. (My apologies to subscribers who receive this article twice. The following is a revised and edited version.)
Throughout history, the most enduring creative expressions are most often created within or just after moments of social upheaval, war, grief, chaos or disaster. It would be difficult to overstate this phenomenon. Consider the context in which John Milton penned his epic masterpiece Paradise Lost. “His son was dead, his daughters estranged, two marriages ended, his eyesight departed, his public image disgraced, his friends judicially murdered or fled into exile.” Miguel de Cervantes was the greatest novelist of his century. He was also enslaved for five years in Algiers. His life is described as “endlessly sorrowful and painful …” Aleksandra Solzhenitsyn was tortured, suffering for eight years in Soviet labor camps.
Victor Hugo was already a prolific writer when, in 1843, he lost his daughter in a drowning accident. He was so deeply affected by this tragedy that his pen remained silent for almost a decade. Something miraculous took place during those silent years. Hugo would come storming back with a new wave of poetry and writings that included Les Miserables, his masterpiece about the resurgence of hope that would secure him as one of the greatest French writers of all time.
I have a fascination with individuals who break through humanity’s usual barriers and limitations. As I have tried to understand the substance in their lives which lifts them to such creative heights, I am in awe at the numbers of them who encounter unusual pain and suffering when they are children. As a boy, for example, Charles Dickens labored in the grime of a paste blacking factory. Isaac Newton was abandoned by his mother at the age of three. J.S. Bach’s mother died when he was nine and his father followed her eight months later. Oscar Wilde’s little sister died unexpectedly at the age of eight. One study estimates that of eminently creative individuals, 28% lose their parents as children, in comparison with eight percent of the general population.
At the age of six, the novelist James Matthew Barrie, who wrote The Little White Bird and the successive stage play The Boy Who Wouldn’t Grow Up, lost his brother David in an ice skating accident. It was described as a “catastrophe beyond belief” for his mother. Young James grew up in the fallout of her grief, often hearing her groan that her only happiness was found in the knowledge that her dead son would never grow up. James’ experiences would eventually rise through his pen to become Peter Pan, one of the most adored characters to ever grace the pages of children’s literature.
Consider the writer who swept our hearts and imaginations away into Narnia, showing us what it feels like to playfully romp with delight in the arms of Aslan? C.S. Lewis typed with creative magic. In what circumstance was that brilliance forged? When he was ten years old, his mother fell ill with cancer and slipped out of his world into eternity. Meanwhile his father sent him off to a boarding school. It wasn’t long before little Clive’s imagination rose on the wings of his grief. And in the process he would learn to awaken hope in the hearts of other children. The big-eyed delight in the eyes of every child reading of Narnia quietly originates in another child’s anguish.
Lewis wrote that God “whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, and shouts in our pains.” He called pain “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Jean-Paul Sartre called suffering “the raw material for beauty.” From my perspective, there is an unmistakeable relationship between suffering and creative power. The secret of that power is not suffering itself, but the hope that is forged in the soul while suffering. Romans 5:3-4 explains this relationship. Hope is born in suffering, which produces perseverance, which gives birth to character, which blossoms into hope. By hope ἐλπίς, the Apostle Paul was not referring to the fast food flicker of optimistic euphoria that we sometimes associate with this word. Hebrews 6:19 says, “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain …” Hope is the anchor of the soul. A soul empty of hope is anchorless in the raging, unpredictable and disappointing voyage through life. Hope is the joyful anticipation of the good while in the midst of a trial. Hope, by its very nature, cannot exist apart from pain.
Walking amidst this great crowd of humanity are the rarest of artists. They are the masters, who create life changing, breath taking works of art. Artistic talent alone is powerless to produce such masterpieces. Their art confronts us with an audacious faith in providence. Their creative expressions lift up our eyes and plant a resolve in our hearts to rise again. Whatever their genre of creativity, they simply cannot be ignored. None of us are ever quite the same after being confronted by their art forms. These are the great artists whose creative outflow is mysteriously illuminated with an enduring and radiant hope. Almost without exception, these individuals have been lifted up through some inferno of hellish darkness. On their ascent, they’ve snatched up a handful of hope, anchored it to their souls and carried it with them through life.
Hope is an enduring and confident determination that the sun will rise. Gentle light will melt the darkness into a soft gray, then slowly fill up the bedroom window. Soon the brilliant sun will sweep away the night, lighting up your tear stained pillow. The Voice of God is heard in the morning. “Oh, faithful one. Your beautiful soul is formed out of a collision between your pain and my life giving, creating words. The wreckage from these collisions form the textures by which I, the greatest of all artists create My masterpieces. See how you separate the curtains, push the windows wide open and feel the rushing breeze of a new day on your face. You will rise. You will most certainly turn your face toward the cold, biting wind and live again. Just as the radiant colors of dawn are born in the turmoil of light overcoming darkness, you will emerge through the blinding confusion of your ephemeral and seemingly chaotic nothingness.
Hope is a creative force that explodes from within us, casting light across the canvas. Ronald Lopez was a gifted artist. He did amazing things with his natural talents, and he was a master at painting murals. He was an advocate for artists, and his work touched many lives. I was inspired by what Ronald created in Istanbul. Apparently, his life more recently took a downward turn. I feel that I can relate. I know how it feels to wake up in the night, wondering if life is worth living. I know what it means to be tortured by fear, anxiety, guilt, self doubt and depression. And yet, without exception, after each night spent in the valley of the shadow of death, God has gifted me with a glorious sunrise. I suspect that God was forming in Ronald Lopez the raw materials for an explosion of beauty. His most creative gifts to humanity and God were most certainly in front of him.
No matter how blinding the night, no matter how disgraceful our failures may be, there is always, always, always a reason to wait for another day.
Hey Faith Activating Friends,
Here's part one of an interview with Paul Richardson which he recently did on the Canadian TV show, "100 Huntley Street." It's an interesting discussion on the backdrop on his dad's book, "Peace Child," redemptive analogies, his growing up years in Papua and how our culture tries to insulate us from all risk taking. Click above to watch.
Christmas 2011East Java, Indonesia
Awakened before dawn by the Islamic call to prayer, I rise out of bed, dress in the dark and tip-toe up the winding stairway to my rooftop balcony. My city rests in her cradle between three massive volcanoes. After awhile, the sound of the mosques’ chanting retreats back into silence, allowing me a few precious minutes to soak up the early morning.
A breeze stirs the damp clothes still hanging on the line. The wind rustles the leaves of a banana tree. I watch in wonder as the Creator begins to paint with light. Beyond the city limits, the slopes of stately Mount Semeru emerge from darkness. Pastels give way to the blazing sun, which rises in victory over the spirits of the night.
With the new day, people step out of their front doors to chase their ambitions. They haul their loads to market. A neighbor gets to work tiling the roof on his house. A young mother sings to her baby. A farmer’s rubber boots slosh through a muddy rice paddy. In every direction, activity fills the noisy streets and crowded alleys of this emerald green, rice terraced island.
Tomorrow is Christmas, and nobody around here seems to have any idea.
No tinsel, fake snow or glitter in shop windows. Nobody will rush out tonight to purchase one more present to stuff under the tree. As far as I know, Santa and his reindeer have never visited this place. It all used to bother me. But nowadays I have grown to prefer Christmas here. Something about it feels a bit more like that first night. Original, raw and earthy. Poor. The cry of a newborn baby rises in the darkness and drifts over a moonlit village. A teenaged mother groans in pain as her husband does his best to make her comfortable in a stable. The world outside goes on sleeping, unaware that the hope of humanity lies nearby in his mother’s gentle arms.
Jesus, Light of the World, You are my hope.
I celebrate the opportunity to carry your love into my city today. Thank you for the honor you have entrusted to me and my friends to live here. I truly, passionately, love serving here. Thank you for giving us a chance to open schools of hope in places where most children have never heard of Christmas. Thank you for the beautiful faces of these amazing kids in our schools and orphanages. I celebrate that You have a purpose and an amazing future waiting for them. Thank you for calling dedicated teachers to serve with Mustard Seed. Thank you for calling others back home to give so generously. Bless them today Lord Jesus. Fill their homes and hearts with your peace. Jesus, you are worth dying for, and the mission you have placed before us is worth living for.
Blessed be Your Name.
Am I nuts?
I hear voices.
They chatter through the day and worry me awake in the night. They mutter shame and murmer guilt. They invoke my deepest fears. They conjure negative emotions about people I love. Running off at the mouth, they lure me into timidity. Dampening my spirit, they rant impossibilities, and conjure up chickenheartedness. They pull me back away from the forward edge, drawing me into my past.
They annoy, badger, heckle, hound, and pester. They are always talking to me about me. Am I nuts? Of course I am. And so are you. I can hear the voices rattling around in your head too.
Yakkety yak.
There is a VOICE. He says, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. Therefore you will boast all the more gladly about your weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on you. That is why, for Christ's sake, you delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when you are weak, then I am strong.”
The chatter fades, and the VOICE rises within. Can you hear Him?
He is the VOICE of strength, courage and hope. His VOICE brightens, comforts, emboldens, energizes, fortifies, inspires, refreshes, restores, revitalizes, and strengthens. He is the whisper in the night, “Why is your soul downcast? Why are you so disturbed within? Put your hope in Me.”
He nudges my thoughts beyond myself. Beckoning me forward to the edge, He says, Trust Me. “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” He speaks clearly, saying that He is my help and my shield. He says that those who hope in Him will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.
He is the VOICE of hope who fills me with all joy and peace as I trust in him, so that I may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. He tells me that I can do everything through Christ who gives me strength. The VOICE of the LORD will guide me always; he will satisfy my needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen my frame. I will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.
And when he brings out his own sheep, he goes before them; and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice.”
John 10:4
Josiah’s Eyes
What do I see when I see your eyes?
I see the pool where you lost your life
Enshrouded in a shimmering veil
Dead to the horror in your mother’s wail
I hear my voice calling to the One
O dear God, restore my son!
A pain so sharp I cannot breathe
Tears of fire trace my cheeks
I taste the anguish in my throat
A fog of grief swarms my soul
Hellish darkness, thick as night
And then I glimpse a glimmering light
The One is before me in glorious white
In agony I groan, come save his life!
He rises up and slowly comes near
And lifts me from the clutch of fear
God’s divine choice conquered the night
And carried my son from death into light
He breathed in you and set you free
To live and become all you will be
What do I see when I see your face?
A miracle, for your life is His grace
Our talks and laughter when you are near
All the more proof that God is here
What do I see when I see you smile?
Wisdom victorious, in its own time
Love and tenderness growing within
Destiny, purpose, the will to win
Here you are rising, from child into man
And in every battle, I know that you can
Find the will to endure, to overcome
I am so proud, for you are my son!
By Paul Richardson (on Josiah’s 13th birthday)
Photo by LauraRhoades.com
A decade ago, God moved in my heart to see Indonesian believers transformed in His love, equipped to be leaders, and empowered to become a force of influence for His Kingdom. From the beginning, the dream was to launch a school that would gift the world with world-changers. This school would become a laboratory where aspiring teachers would come from all over Indonesia to hone their teaching skills.
Our primary targets of influence were the arts, media, athletics, medicine, entrepreneurship and education.
Now all these years later, I pause and survey the landscape.
I recall the winding journey that God has carried us through. I’m astonished to see that our little school of 450 students has already produced kids who are aspiring to be filmmakers, actors, teachers, physicians and the like. A Charis student won the Indonesian version of American Idol. Another is a masterful jazz guitarist. Each year Charis students perform a Shakespeare play. Our students have created films that won national awards. A senior this year plays the leading role in a film called “Tendangan Dari Langit” (Kick From the Sky) which has been showing in theatres all across this country. One of our graduates recently came back on campus for a visit. I asked him what he is studying in college, and he replied, “biomedical engineering.” I asked a 9th grader to share her aspirations with me. She replied that she wants to be a journalist “… so I can someday be a voice of influence in the media.”
And so on.
Even more amazing to me, is the caliber and faith of the people God has brought together. Whether it is our generous donors, our faithful prayer warriors, teacher trainers and specialists, God is gathering together a group of peope with startling abilities and inspiring faith. Just last weekend, a donor gave thousands of dollars worth of instruments to our youth orchestra. God is on the forward edge, way out ahead of us, blazing the trail. He is the our leader and our recruiter. My main role in all of this is to envision, equip, empower and then get out of the way.
A few years ago it occurred to me that God had created everything that I had dreamed for, and more. He seemed to be saying, “Paul look around and see that everything you have asked for is before you. The only limits to what I will create are the size of your dreams.” Should I really be surprised to see what God is doing? No way! God has always revealed his creativity by imparting dreams, then weaving them into hearts, events and lives to become a living reality. Glory to God. "Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever, Amen!" Ephesians 3:20
Excerpt from interview by Janet Sullivan with Paul RichardsonWhat are the qualities of an effective leader?
In my perspective, leaders are people who are being drawn by something beautiful and tantalizing that awaits them in the future. Whether it be a prototype school, winning a championship, or experiencing a world without poverty, leaders surrender themselves to a cause greater than themselves. When others are caught by the same cause, they also take steps of faith to enter the battleground of creativity. In time, the vision becomes a movement. The movement materializes as the vision becomes reality. All along the catalyst of the movement is what I call a leader.
Many qualities combine to make effective leaders, but I feel that effective leadership is rooted in two primary qualities. These qualities are not often encountered together in the same person, but when they come together, they make the world’s greatest leaders.
First, leaders are not satisfied with the world, or some condition in the world, as it is today. There is a deep restlessness within, an angst, an urgency to engage the current circumstances and enact change or to bring about an effect. The actual source of this dissatisfaction is love, and love is more powerful than highly enriched uranium. The opposite of love is apathy. Love gives rise to an energy within, an urgency to remake the world. This desire to remake the world is the engine inside of a great leader. It is this quality which people sometimes refer to as “passion,” or “drive.” Jesus did not enter the villages of Palestine as a tourist. He was an activator. Wherever he went, he brought healing, transformation and hope. The lame walked, the sick were healed, and the blind could see. Jesus was a man on a mission. He most definitely was driven from within to see the world restored. Leaders who have this internal motor running are able to make great sacrifices on behalf of their cause, to step into the unknown, and lead others into the creative process in spite of great risk, potential suffering and loss. Very few people care about much of anything beyond themselves, their comfort, pleasure and safety. This is why true leaders are rare. Many appear to be leaders until they encounter resistance. Their primal instinct to survive overcomes love. Vision melts away under fire and the movement dies. Great leaders, however, are willing to be nailed to a cross on behalf of their cause.
Second, leaders have the quality of persuasiveness. People who accomplish great things alone are amazing, but they are not leaders. When Usain Bolt shattered the world record in the 100 meter sprint, he was not a leader. But when thousands of Jamaican children saw Usain Bolt run, then went outside and started running, Usain Bolt became a leader. This persuasiveness is not an external attractiveness or persona. Rather, there is a hope and faith within that inspires others, energizing a growing movement with a vision. Whether a leader’s persuasiveness is based in his or her expertise, knowledge, determination, experience, faith, hope, or love, when a leader speaks, people want to listen. The leader may not be “likeable” or have an extroverted persona, nevertheless there is something about or within that person which causes others to want to be around them, emulate them and follow them.
Other qualities come to mind. Effective leaders don’t take themselves too seriously. Effective leaders are great listeners, and are tuned in to how people are feeling. Effective leaders never panic. They stand up with confidence, clarity and faith in the midst of a crisis. Effective leaders embrace constructive criticism, and see the most difficult people around them as “editors,” rather than as “enemies.”
By Paul Richardson
Just saw a blurb on TV about a new book called “God Wants You Happy” by Father Jonathan Morris. Well, I’ve got GREAT news. I can save you the cost of the book, as well as the cost of a self-help seminar, or an hourly fee with a psych. Right here, right now, I can solve the planet’s quest for happiness.
Just buy my book and … haaaaa just kidding.
Now, my friends probably wouldn’t call me the happiest guy on the block. Nevertheless, I still believe I know the secret to happiness. All happiness. Period. No exceptions. Right now, I will permanently solve your quest for happiness at no charge.
Years ago I noticed something that got me thinking. I was visiting a village in Borneo. No electricity. Lots of runny noses. Flood season. Everywhere I looked was either under water, or smothered in thick, gooey mud. I don’t really want to make you lose your appetite, but I must provide you with the full picture. In order for me to bathe in the river next to that village, I had to jump off of a dock which also happened to be the village toilet. I elected to bathe at night so that I wouldn’t have to see what surrounded me. In that particular village my friend Scott pulled some Frisbees out of his bag and started tossing them around. The place exploded with laughter and big, beautiful smiles. Barefoot kids eagerly swarmed around the new toys, while their parents looked on with grins as pure as the sky.
To me it became something of a philosophical question. “How is it that people with virtually nothing can be visited by such pure happiness, while people in another context have luxurious circumstances yet are perpetual whiners?”
Does poverty breed happiness? Not so fast. I’ve seen happiness in affluent backgrounds too, and I’ve seen plenty of disconsolation among the poor. Does being a Christian make you happy? Come on, let’s be honest. We all know perpetually glum Christians. I’ve known very happy people who are not Christians. To promise someone that if he believes in Jesus he will become happy is to participate in a myth that some Christians love to perpetuate for some odd reason.
So, it is clear to me that happiness is unrelated to circumstances. Happiness is most certainly unrelated to religion. But happiness is relative. Something causes happiness. What could that something be?
I believe the reason the villagers were happy is that the Frisbees were viewed as an undeserved surprise. If they had ordered and paid for the Frisbees, and expected the Frisbees, they would not have experienced the same fullness of joy. In other words, the people in that village were grateful for the Frisbees.
Gratitude. Yes, gratitude and happiness are actually the same thing. Always and without exception, everywhere and at all times. Happy people are always grateful. When people are grateful they are also happy. When people are ungrateful they are also unhappy. Unhappy people don’t experience “undeserved surprises” because inside their hearts, they feel they actually deserve more.
Want to be a happier person? Start seeing every little thing as an undeserved surprise. Start saying Thank You all the time, and really mean it. I guarantee you will become a happier person. Venture on a quest for gratitude, and you will find yourself becoming happier. Remind yourself that every breath of oxygen is an undeserved gift from God. All beauty around you is from God. Every bite of food is from God. Every friendship is a treasure entrusted to you by God. Unhappy with your marriage? Your root problem is that you think you deserve better, and that’s just not true. Believe for one day that you deserve nothing, and your spouse will become your heart’s treasure. Miserable with your job? Every day as you are driving to work, say to yourself, “I don’t deserve this job. It is a gift from God.” Do you have enough gas in your tank to get to work? Well, thank God for it. You deserve nothing, believe it. Heighten your sensitivity to God’s love and God’s grace, which is constantly all around you, touching you.
World’s quest for happiness solved.
Out.
By Paul Richardson
Zoltan Dani is now the owner of a tiny neighborhood bakery in a sleepy village North of Belgrade. But Mr. Dani did not always enjoy such a peaceful and anonymous life. He happens to be the genius responsible for inventing a technological innovation which allowed a Soviet made missile to shoot down a US F-117 stealth fighter in May of 1999 over Serbia. The pilot escaped, but the billion dollar aircraft fell out of the night sky and was smashed into a zillion broken pieces across a field. "We used a little innovation to update our 1960s-vintage SAMs to detect the Nighthawk,” Mr Dani told USA Today in 2005. His innovation involved tinkering with electromagnetic waves.
I vividly remember reading about the downing of that Stealth fighter. On the front page of the L.A. Times there was a photo of Serbian farmers dancing on the broken wing of the world’s most technologically advanced aircraft. But what struck me most is what happened a few days later.
On May 7th, four U.S. cruise missiles simultaneously struck the Chinese embassy in Belgrade from four different directions, annihilating the building and killing everyone inside. Hmmmm. Could there be a connection with the downed stealth fighter?
Yes, obviously.
Although President Clinton apologized to the enraged Chinese government, and CIA officials claimed they had been using outdated maps, (Ahem, yeah right.) we can easily surmise about what really happened. The Chinese government, which for decades had been spying on U.S. military technology, pounced on the downed plane, paid off the locals for its parts, and trucked them to the Chinese embassy, storing them in the basement. No doubt U.S. satellites picked up the whole thing.
After all, China is the world’s foremost nation of knockoffs. I see plenty of them here in Indonesia. Fake Blackberries (called “Blueberries”). Fake Yamaha motorcycles and knock off laptops. The Chinese economy is making a killing off of imitation. They are the geniuses of the clone wars.
Look all around. There are creatives and then there are immitators. Originals and clones. There are forward thinkers and others trying to catch up. Kids who are ready for their exams, and those who look over the shoulders of their classmates for answers. There are pick and rolls, and then there are cherry pickers. Original sermons, ideas, books, plot lines and copycats.
I’ve been noticing something lately about God and the Bible. God never does the same thing exactly the same way twice. Only one Jericho. Only one kid kills a giant with a sling. And that kid refused to wear another man's armor. He killed the giant his own way. His God is the ULTIMATE CREATIVE. God never resorts to the knock off. His creativity is always new. Always fresh. Always a new song in the morning. A new WORD from his Spirit.
Can you get a feel for where I’m going with this? Take a fast growing church, for example. It was a movement. Powerful. All God. Holy Spirit. Miraculous. Ridiculously unexplainable. Only God got the glory. Sort of. Until an army of pastors of smaller churches swarmed around asking, “How did you do this?” “What is your secret?” Strategy? Technique? Methods? So the church threw conferences. They charged a fat little entrance fee. They used media, power points and stood behind microphones explaining their methods, and they went home and tried to imitate what they heard about. And of course that’s when the movement died.
How about you? Did you know there’s no one else anything like you? Seven billion people walking the earth, and there’s only one you. Why? Because the ARTIST made you, and the ARTIST only makes originals. He also has original ideas for you every day. He has a totally unique way for you. No more trying to be a knockoff. It’s fake, and everyone around can smell imitation. Be you. Listen to God. Be the person He made you to be.
An original.
