In the 1981 film Chariots of Fire, the sister of British Olympian Eric Liddell urged her brother to give up an athletic career for the sake of his "true" calling -- serving as a cross-cultural missionary. He resisted her either-or thinking by insisting that there was more than one way for him to glorify God. To Liddell, serving the Lord should not require him to give up his greatest gift: "I believe that God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. When I run, I feel his pleasure."
Athletes aren't the only ones who are presented with this unfortunate choice between gifting and God's will. Over the years I have encountered many artists who were similarly compelled to set aside talents in music, dance, or visual arts so that they could pursue a career in ministry. It breaks my heart to hear how often young people come to understand Christin vocation in terms of this stark binary -- it's either God's will for your life, or your art. In Many Beautiful Things, a recent movie about English painter Lilias Trotter, the protagonist's decision is portrayed in the same way: she decided to serve the Lord in North Africa, relegating herself to obscurity, and thereby forsaking the potential to be England's best living artist. (This is one of her watercolors. Also, see the movie trailer at the bottom of this post, or at this link.)
About 25 years ago, as a freshman at Asbury University, I also felt caught between two choices. My major was Christian Mission, but I was also pursuing a minor in Music. To some people -- including myself at times -- it seemed like I couldn't make up my mind. Was I going to pursue mission or music? It was a choice I didn't want to make, one that seemed false, requiring me to either give up my calling to cross-cultural ministry or set aside my (modest) God-given abilities in music. So it was with much gratitude that I learned about ethnomusicology -- more specifically, that the study of music and culture was a discipline being used in mission work, under the umbrella of what would one day be called ethnodoxology. Thankfully, this discovery came early in my college life, so I did not have to live in the tension between two choices for very long. While the world is different now that it was in the 1800s, presenting more opportunities than what was available for Liddell or Trotter, there are still artists today who forsake their gifts in order to pursue a career in ministry.
Fortunately, we serve a God who is in the business of opening up new possibilities for those who are gifted with creativity. Take the story of Bezalel, who is, at best, a minor character in the Old Testament. Not too many sermons are preached about his calling in Exodus 31:1-11 and 35:30-36:7. The scriptures give us no hint of what he said in response to God’s command to fashion the tabernacle, its furnishings, and the ark of the covenant. As I imagine it, Bezalel did not struggle with obeying these instructions. He was an artisan, and he probably learned his skills with wood, stone, and metal as a foreman in Pharaoh’s many building projects. The exodus from Egypt meant that Bezalel left behind his vocation; there were no construction projects in the desert. Following Moses across the Red Sea must have felt like the ending of his career as an artist.
At first I thought that my calling to mission work meant that I would have to forget about being a musician. I only knew about two distinct tracks for those called to ministry: word-based ministries for pastors and missionaries, and arts-based work for worship leaders. It felt like choosing one over the other would have been a major loss. So when I discovered a way to blend the two tracks -- that is, to bring my music background into cross-cultural ministry, I did not question whether or not God was behind it. When I learned that mission-focused ethnomusicology offered a way of doing both “word” and “arts” ministries together, I did not have to pray about signing up. This revelation was an answer to prayer, not something to go on the prayer list. I imagine Bezalel responded to Moses’s commission in the same way; he didn't have to say anything because working with wood, stone, and gold was exactly what he was supposed to do.
To you artists out there who are struggling with your calling, resist the voices that insist you must make a clear-cut choice between God and gifting. Of course God wants your art to be submitted to him -- your gifts in the arts are no different from any part of your life. But submission does not mean obliteration. God doesn't have to take away your skills in music, painting, dance, writing, poetry, set design, or sculpture in order for him to be glorified. If you feel torn between your art and your calling to ministry, grab ahold of God's promises to make all things new (Revelation 21:5). The resurrected and ascended Lord will help you overcome the trap of being forced into either-or decisions.
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