Fujijmura, Makoto. Culture Care: Reconnecting with Beauty for our Common Life. Downer’s Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2017.
Culture Care was refreshing to my soul. It was like a breath of fresh air to pick up this book and read his words about beauty, shalom, culture care, and art. He writes like an artist (because he is an artist) and his words are carefully chosen and crafted together. The one downside about this book is that sometimes his words get so artistic that his train of thought is difficult to follow.
I read this book for a class this past semester, and the class as a whole was refreshing, restful, and a joy to complete. This book spoke to me in particular ways as an artist.
I often say that a book has impacted me and then move on with my life and don’t see a change. But when I say that this book has impacted my life, I mean it – I have seen small changes in the way that I do life or the way that I think. It shows that this book was a powerful tool in my life last semester.
I was convicted when he talked about how our culture no longer values beauty because it isn’t “useful.” “Many in our culture no longer value a bouquet of flowers because beauty contributes neither to the machinery of production nor to an advantage in the latest cultural battle – and because the pressure continued consumption warps our capacity to appreciate and enjoy” (page 33). His words reminded me of the need to slow down, the need to reflect, the need to create beauty in the world, and the need to enjoy beautiful things just because they are. I have seen so many areas in my life where I give up beauty for the sake of utility.
He speaks of shalom and human flourishing as the goal of something he calls “culture care.” I loved the picture of art and beauty as caring for the soul of the culture. He observes on page 51 that though beauty is not necessary to our survival (we could survive without taste, color, sound, smell, etc.) it is necessary for our flourishing. “Our sense of beauty and our creativity are central to what it means to be made in the image of a creative God” (page 51). To be truly flourishing is to be living out our full potential as image-bearers, and this includes enjoying and creating things that are beautiful.
Art speaks from the heart of the creator and to the heart of those who engage with it. I’ve been pondering who I might use art in the ministry God calls me to in the future. How could I tap into the beauty of art to draw people to the gospel? How can I use art as a tool to make heart-level connections with people? Especially as I consider whether God is calling me to step into messy situations with hurting and vulnerable people, I can’t help but wonder how art might play a role in helping them to process their pain and encounter God’s goodness.
I loved the way he spoke of artists as “borderstalkers,” or those on the margins and the edges of the church who are able to sort of flow back and forth between the church community and the outside community (page 58-61). Artists see things differently than others. They are able to speak as a prophetic voice both to the culture and to the church. I resonated with the description of the artist as one who feels like they don’t belong to a particular group – they don’t fit in with the church, and they don’t fit in with the culture. They feel “different,” and sometimes excluded because of that. His challenge to view those artists as missionaries, to raise them up, equip them, and support and send them out as those who have been given this role as a prophetic voice is a challenge that I desire to see explored within my local church (page 106-107).
I resonated perhaps most deeply with the descriptions of how some of the best art comes from the darkest places and moments in life. I know this is true for me personally. Most of the art I have created in recent years comes from dark and painful spaces in life. Fujimura says, “I have discovered that something is awakened through failure, tragedy, and disappointment” (page 18). I agree with him – Art seems to be the way that I can find expression to the feelings and experiences in those darkest of moments when words just won’t come. This doesn’t mean that all art comes from pain, nor should all art come from pain. But we need to leave space in our theologies of art and suffering for the two things to meld together in a way that creates something beautiful out of the dust and ashes surrounding us.
Perhaps most provocatively, Fujimura seems to claim that there is not a place for the label of “Christian Art.” There is certainly art that is created by Christians, art that explores Christian themes, and art that is created for Christians. But Fujimura would argue that art that is seeking goodness, beauty, and truth (regardless of who creates it) is, in some sense, Christian art (page 100). Fujimura’s words acted as a “capstone” to our class discussion around this topic for me. “I dare not treat the powerful presence of Christ in my life as an adjective. I want Christ to be my whole being…it is time for followers of Christ to let Christ be the noun in our lives, to let our whole being ooze out like a painter’s colors with the splendor and the mystery of Christ, the inexhaustible beauty that draws people in” (page 85). Whether in art or any other aspect of life, Christ is to be our all, not a label that is slapped on to something.
If I could sum up how this book has impacted me, it is this: Culture Care has given me the permission to allow my creative side to run wild. I don’t need to feel guilty for creating beautiful things, for spending hours of time on something that has little practical value just because it is beautiful. God created beauty, and God created me to enjoy that beauty. Creating taps into who I was made to be at a deeper level. So I just need to roll up my sleeves and go for it.