For many of us, raised to believe that money is the real
source of security, a dependence on God feels foolhardy,
suicidal, even laughable. When we consider the lilies of the
fields, we think they are quaint, too out of it for the modern
world. We’re the ones who keep clothes on our backs.
We’re the ones who buy the groceries. And we will pursue
our art, we tell ourselves, when we have enough money to
do it easily.
And when will that be?
We want a God that feels like a fat paycheck and a license
to spend as we please. Listening to the siren song of more,
we are deaf to the still small voice waiting in our soul to
whisper, “You’re enough.”
“Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all things will
be added to it,” we have been told, often since childhood,
by people quoting from the Bible. We don’t believe this.
And we certainly don’t believe it about art. Maybe God
would feed and clothe us, in a pinch, but painting supplies?
A museum tour of Europe, dance classes? God’s not about
to spring for those, we tell ourselves. We cling to our
financial concerns as a way to avoid not only our art but
also our spiritual growth. Our faith is in the dollar. “I have to
keep a roof over my head,” we say. “Nobody’s going to pay
me to be more creative.”
Money is God in action.
RAYMOND CHARLES
BARKER