“I have a friend, a jazz musician, trumpet player. Really terrific. And I go and hear him jam every month or so. And he plays this piece I love: an old Chet Baker song. And he blows the same notes every time, but every time it sounds different. And we had drinks one night—when I used to drink—and I tried to tell him how that song made me feel…how the music made me feel and how his playing made me feel. And he just kept shaking his head, and he said, ‘Joan, you can’t talk about music. Talking about music is like dancing about architecture.’ I just said, ‘Well, gonna get all philosophical on me. It’s just as pointless as talking about a lot of things. Love, for instance.’ And my friend laughed, and he said, ‘Definitely. Most definitely. Talking about love is like dancing about architecture’,” (Joan, Playing by Heart).
That’s what talking about God is like, too—like dancing about architecture. God is a person, he’s real, and he has to be experienced through relationship to be understood on any level. Sure, you can talk about him and even make good points about him, but that’s nothing like knowing him.
The thing is, I love him and I want to know him and I’m still tempted to keep him at arms length, talking about him but not interacting with him because he’s dangerous and he demands things of me and because relationship (even with him) is nothing if not messy. I end up trying to sound holy around people who think that’s cool and not really praying, not really seeking him. Oh, I’ll seek the idea of him, but not the person, not the one who wants to know me and be known by me. That’s much harder.
Relationship with God is not like a DVD owner’s manual. It’s not all tab B in slot A. You cannot reduce it to simple rules and boundaries, lists of tasks and the like and end up with an actual relationship. You end up with something, yes, and like the beauty of a VCR clock that’s actually set (does anyone still use VCRs?) you will have something to show for your efforts, but you will not have a relationship in the personal sense. What you’ll have is a great deal more like an intricately designed and masterfully assembled house of cards. And about as stable.
That’s the “life of faith” I’m tempted to reduce my journey to. It’s cleaner and neater and everyone is really falling apart on the inside anyway, right? We’re all just keeping up appearances, aren’t we?
But God calls us to more. He calls us to a life of real relationship, a life of knowing him and not just talking about him. A life of experiencing his Spirit on a daily basis rather than a life regulated by the right rules. It takes faith and trust and it’s completely dependant on grace, but it’s real.
Talking about love is like dancing about architecture. The problem isn’t that dancing is bad or inexpressive. The problem is that the medium does not match the subject. God is a person, someone we are meant to interactive with. Talking about him isn’t enough.
OK, so here comes the theologian in me. You’re right–talking about love and/or God is a little like dancing about architecture.
Every good piece of architecture is more than a blueprint. You can’t dance a blueprint. But you can dance the final result. You can appreciate the greatest buildings and memorials for what they are–functional and purposeful works of art. I prefer to see God and love in that way. Yes, God is more closely and clearly portrayed in artistic form than in literary form, but like every good piece of art, there are essential elements that must be inherent in them for the art to be expressive and communicative.
Theology, or talking about and reflecting on God, serves a similar function. It may not be the most beautiful expression at times, but for the analytics like me, it carries a simple beauty that I can really appreciate, even if it’s inadequate to its task.
left by Trey on 11.08.2006 at 2:39 pm