Be Creative
Trinity Sunday
Romans 8.12-17; John 3.1-17
Sometimes you have to do something different. I spend a lot of time
on words – reading, writing, answering queries, discussing ideas and policies, helping other people express themselves, discussing and negotiating – words, words, and more words. So sometimes
I like to simply do something – gloss the wooden floor, fit a new lock, print and assemble some booklets, build something. I especially remember the delight of planning and building a surprise Wendy House for my first daughter when she was small –those hours in a locked garage just flew by.
I need to do these things, to engage a different side of my personality to that which I mostly use day in and day out in my usual tasks and responsibilities. I know I’m not unusual in this. I’ve met a lorry driver who masterfully paints in oils, a young mum who is a full-time home maker who is also a black belt in karate, and a city solicitor who labours as a navvy at the weekends rebuilding old canals.
‘So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them’ (Genesis 1.27). Our God is a creator by nature. We are, because He is. God has purposefully brought into being all that is; God’s creative urge directs and sustains a world alive with creative possibility. To know and trust God as the Creator isn’t to argue from what is to the necessity of God; rather it is of itself a creative act of faith, a utilization of his creative image planted deep within our hearts and souls. Ours is not a God who is some remote
and aloof first cause that has set the universe in motion and it now sitting
back, as it were, looking on as it runs down like some fading clockwork
motor. No, ours is a Creator who from the first has been involved in creation, loving and nurturing it, and never leaving it. And our urge towards creativeness is a glimpse of that creative character planted within the very fibre of our being – ‘in the image of God he created
them.’
Nicodemus struggles with the thought of this creative urge. Can he step outside his own definitions of himself and his relationship to this creative God? He seems to be a person wrestling with who Jesus is and what that identity might mean for his life, and his people’s life. Some have said he was a secret believer in Jesus. Something of a hypocrite because he
can’t’ bring himself to be open about it – after all he comes to Jesus under cover of night. And yet we are told he argued with others on the Jewish council against Jesus being arrested and he also brought spices to prepare the body of
Jesus for burial - so not really so secret about his attraction to Jesus and his teachings. Nicodemus is a complex
character who is trying to find a way forward but doesn’t seem to know how to go about it. He yearns to do something
different, but doesn’t know what.
We believe that God’s creating and creative involvement is most plainly seen when his creative Word became flesh in the
person of Jesus – ‘in him was life, and the life was the light of all people’ (John 1.4). We are not automatons forever condemned simply to take what comes our way without any response-ability. We are addressed directly by God in the person of the man Jesus. We are spoken with; person to person. We are engaged and encouraged; person to person. We
are asked to be people in relationships – making our lives, quite literally, out of our mutual encounters, efforts, failures and successes. We are because God is. We have the chance to become because Jesus shows us how. God’s creativeness marks us, makes us what we are – human beings – and without that creativeness we are less than human.
To be creative is essential to us. ‘Nicodemus listen to the wind of the Spirit, be born into a new way of living’ – but the creative Spirit eludes him. He can’t fit a new picture of himself and God into his understanding of the world.
He curbs the urge to be creative; he can’t answer the Spirit’s promptings.
Recent hot weather has brought something to mind again. Have you noticed that in every park on a summer’s day when the sun is hot and full there is always a courting couple who can’t keep their hands of each other? I’ve often heard people respond, ‘I wish he’d put her down,’ or ‘fancy kissing like that in public.’ Yet I’ve a suspicion that God deliberately put them there to remind the rest of us of that heady exuberance that longs, nay yearns, to touch, to embrace, to be
together – that ardour that must find expression and refuses to be tempered. Yes, I know it can go too far, but somewhere in that behaviour there is a prompting to recall and rejoice in a self-forgetful exuberance that is part of God’s creative gift. Here is a creative enjoyment of one person in another that is all too soon tarnished by our self-seeking and calculated exploitation of each other. But at its core there is something wonderful and awesome that cannot, will not, be denied. This is something that can become the beginning of unique and special purposefulness; as our marriage service has it, together in ‘delight and tenderness’ and ‘joyful commitment.’
But, of course, this creative urge isn’t just about romance. It shows itself in us in so many aspects of our lives. Indeed to respond is a sign of life; response-ability is fundamental to our humanity, and to respond is to be creative.
We were discussing ‘Why church?’ – you know, why put yourself out to join in, why attend, why read scripture, why spend
hours on meetings and organising, etc? And someone said, ‘I feel I belong.’ So simple, so disarming, yet everyone
in the group nodded. This must be our aim – a fellowship in every person belongs. No one should leave the shell of
worship feeling isolated, lonely, or unnoticed. This needs creative love and like any creative action it will be costly.
A widower spoke to me of his wife’s wood carving, ‘She spend so many hours over, so much effort, so much angst when things went wrong, so much concentration. But oh, what she created. What beauty.’ If that can be said of wood carving it should also be said of carving out a common life as a congregation of Christ. God asks us to use his creative gift to
make a thing of beauty here – right here – and we will if we let his creative Spirit direct our efforts.
Christ has come ‘from above’ and is ‘lifted up’ on the cross so that saving faith may be available to all. The Spirit is freed in the world as a consequence of that self-offering. That transforming quality of living is available to all – ‘let that possibility be real in your life, Nicodemus.’ Be carved by the Spirit of God into a new life. That’s the thought Nicodemus can’t handle – though perhaps he does later, maybe providing spices to embalm Jesus is his public identifying of himself with the death of Jesus? ‘Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation (or you might say, ‘born from above’); everything
old has passed away, everything has become new (2 Cor. 5.17-19). Does Nicodemus now know the Spirit’s power?
And that same creative Spirit will also carve and shape our very selves if we allow it. That brings me back to where I started – the need to do something different. You see, the person standing before you isn’t just an ordained minister;
nor just a husband, nor just a father, nor just a son, or a citizen, or a neighbour, or a colleague, or a friend, or simply an individual, or indeed a body or a mind. He is all those things, and many more. I am all those things and many, just as you are so many things and yet not entirely defined by any thing– a weird and wonderful complexity. And God, who stamped his image on you and me, wants to bring all of that complexity into a saving, creative and creating, relationship with him. That’s why Jesus comes as a blood and guts person: ‘the Word became flesh.’ We are called to a new creation – born of the Spirit, engaged by the Son, and nurtured by the Father. We are to be creative in every part of being of our being – body, mind, heart, and soul
– that the hard-hearted may learn to cry,
- that grown ups may learn to play,
- that the fearful may learn confidence,
- that the reserved may learn to touch,
- that the quiet may learn to be noisy,
- that the loud may learn the joy ofsilence,
- and that those who stand apart may learn to stand together.
‘All of this is accomplished by the creative love of God, the redemptive offering of Christ, and the empowering
presence of the life-giving Spirit. And these Three are One.’ (Emmanuel Lartey). Be creative. Claim your inheritance as an heir (Romans 8.17) of the creative God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
on words – reading, writing, answering queries, discussing ideas and policies, helping other people express themselves, discussing and negotiating – words, words, and more words. So sometimes
I like to simply do something – gloss the wooden floor, fit a new lock, print and assemble some booklets, build something. I especially remember the delight of planning and building a surprise Wendy House for my first daughter when she was small –those hours in a locked garage just flew by.
I need to do these things, to engage a different side of my personality to that which I mostly use day in and day out in my usual tasks and responsibilities. I know I’m not unusual in this. I’ve met a lorry driver who masterfully paints in oils, a young mum who is a full-time home maker who is also a black belt in karate, and a city solicitor who labours as a navvy at the weekends rebuilding old canals.
‘So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them’ (Genesis 1.27). Our God is a creator by nature. We are, because He is. God has purposefully brought into being all that is; God’s creative urge directs and sustains a world alive with creative possibility. To know and trust God as the Creator isn’t to argue from what is to the necessity of God; rather it is of itself a creative act of faith, a utilization of his creative image planted deep within our hearts and souls. Ours is not a God who is some remote
and aloof first cause that has set the universe in motion and it now sitting
back, as it were, looking on as it runs down like some fading clockwork
motor. No, ours is a Creator who from the first has been involved in creation, loving and nurturing it, and never leaving it. And our urge towards creativeness is a glimpse of that creative character planted within the very fibre of our being – ‘in the image of God he created
them.’
Nicodemus struggles with the thought of this creative urge. Can he step outside his own definitions of himself and his relationship to this creative God? He seems to be a person wrestling with who Jesus is and what that identity might mean for his life, and his people’s life. Some have said he was a secret believer in Jesus. Something of a hypocrite because he
can’t’ bring himself to be open about it – after all he comes to Jesus under cover of night. And yet we are told he argued with others on the Jewish council against Jesus being arrested and he also brought spices to prepare the body of
Jesus for burial - so not really so secret about his attraction to Jesus and his teachings. Nicodemus is a complex
character who is trying to find a way forward but doesn’t seem to know how to go about it. He yearns to do something
different, but doesn’t know what.
We believe that God’s creating and creative involvement is most plainly seen when his creative Word became flesh in the
person of Jesus – ‘in him was life, and the life was the light of all people’ (John 1.4). We are not automatons forever condemned simply to take what comes our way without any response-ability. We are addressed directly by God in the person of the man Jesus. We are spoken with; person to person. We are engaged and encouraged; person to person. We
are asked to be people in relationships – making our lives, quite literally, out of our mutual encounters, efforts, failures and successes. We are because God is. We have the chance to become because Jesus shows us how. God’s creativeness marks us, makes us what we are – human beings – and without that creativeness we are less than human.
To be creative is essential to us. ‘Nicodemus listen to the wind of the Spirit, be born into a new way of living’ – but the creative Spirit eludes him. He can’t fit a new picture of himself and God into his understanding of the world.
He curbs the urge to be creative; he can’t answer the Spirit’s promptings.
Recent hot weather has brought something to mind again. Have you noticed that in every park on a summer’s day when the sun is hot and full there is always a courting couple who can’t keep their hands of each other? I’ve often heard people respond, ‘I wish he’d put her down,’ or ‘fancy kissing like that in public.’ Yet I’ve a suspicion that God deliberately put them there to remind the rest of us of that heady exuberance that longs, nay yearns, to touch, to embrace, to be
together – that ardour that must find expression and refuses to be tempered. Yes, I know it can go too far, but somewhere in that behaviour there is a prompting to recall and rejoice in a self-forgetful exuberance that is part of God’s creative gift. Here is a creative enjoyment of one person in another that is all too soon tarnished by our self-seeking and calculated exploitation of each other. But at its core there is something wonderful and awesome that cannot, will not, be denied. This is something that can become the beginning of unique and special purposefulness; as our marriage service has it, together in ‘delight and tenderness’ and ‘joyful commitment.’
But, of course, this creative urge isn’t just about romance. It shows itself in us in so many aspects of our lives. Indeed to respond is a sign of life; response-ability is fundamental to our humanity, and to respond is to be creative.
We were discussing ‘Why church?’ – you know, why put yourself out to join in, why attend, why read scripture, why spend
hours on meetings and organising, etc? And someone said, ‘I feel I belong.’ So simple, so disarming, yet everyone
in the group nodded. This must be our aim – a fellowship in every person belongs. No one should leave the shell of
worship feeling isolated, lonely, or unnoticed. This needs creative love and like any creative action it will be costly.
A widower spoke to me of his wife’s wood carving, ‘She spend so many hours over, so much effort, so much angst when things went wrong, so much concentration. But oh, what she created. What beauty.’ If that can be said of wood carving it should also be said of carving out a common life as a congregation of Christ. God asks us to use his creative gift to
make a thing of beauty here – right here – and we will if we let his creative Spirit direct our efforts.
Christ has come ‘from above’ and is ‘lifted up’ on the cross so that saving faith may be available to all. The Spirit is freed in the world as a consequence of that self-offering. That transforming quality of living is available to all – ‘let that possibility be real in your life, Nicodemus.’ Be carved by the Spirit of God into a new life. That’s the thought Nicodemus can’t handle – though perhaps he does later, maybe providing spices to embalm Jesus is his public identifying of himself with the death of Jesus? ‘Anyone who is in Christ is a new creation (or you might say, ‘born from above’); everything
old has passed away, everything has become new (2 Cor. 5.17-19). Does Nicodemus now know the Spirit’s power?
And that same creative Spirit will also carve and shape our very selves if we allow it. That brings me back to where I started – the need to do something different. You see, the person standing before you isn’t just an ordained minister;
nor just a husband, nor just a father, nor just a son, or a citizen, or a neighbour, or a colleague, or a friend, or simply an individual, or indeed a body or a mind. He is all those things, and many more. I am all those things and many, just as you are so many things and yet not entirely defined by any thing– a weird and wonderful complexity. And God, who stamped his image on you and me, wants to bring all of that complexity into a saving, creative and creating, relationship with him. That’s why Jesus comes as a blood and guts person: ‘the Word became flesh.’ We are called to a new creation – born of the Spirit, engaged by the Son, and nurtured by the Father. We are to be creative in every part of being of our being – body, mind, heart, and soul
– that the hard-hearted may learn to cry,
- that grown ups may learn to play,
- that the fearful may learn confidence,
- that the reserved may learn to touch,
- that the quiet may learn to be noisy,
- that the loud may learn the joy ofsilence,
- and that those who stand apart may learn to stand together.
‘All of this is accomplished by the creative love of God, the redemptive offering of Christ, and the empowering
presence of the life-giving Spirit. And these Three are One.’ (Emmanuel Lartey). Be creative. Claim your inheritance as an heir (Romans 8.17) of the creative God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit.
