Masterpieces of Our Own Making

Works of art, such as these statues and the architecture in St. Mark's Square
in Venice, Italy, are not just the result of artistry, but also devotion to God.

Have you ever stood in front of a painting and just marveled? It might not even be a world-famous masterpiece, just some artwork an amateur painter created. But there’s something about it that captures your eye.

Or maybe it’s a musical performance that lifts your spirits and makes you smile, leaving you humming the tune long after the presentation has ended. Again, it might not involve a world-class musician, and yet it sparkles, deeply touching the spirits of those listening.

What is it about the painting or the music that evokes an inner thrill, while another might do nothing more than cause its audience to respond with a collective ho-hum?

Perhaps John Ruskin had it figured out. A writer, painter and art critic in the 19^th century’s Victorian era, Ruskin said, “When love and skill work together, expect a masterpiece.”

If someone insisted that I build a birdhouse, for whatever reason, I might manage to fashion something vaguely resembling a birdhouse. But it wouldn’t be anything about which even the kindest person in the world could find any nice words. Because first of all, my mechanical ability on a scale of 1-10 is a minus-3. But also, the task of constructing a birdhouse is something I would detest, not love.

But if one of our little grandkids were to do a little art project at school for Grandma and Pop, even with limited skill, it would be a masterpiece because it was made out of a heart filled with love.

One of my favorite hymns is “It Is Well With My Soul,” composed in 1873 by Horatio Spafford after his four daughters perished when the passenger ship on which they were sailing, Ville du Havre, collided with another vessel and sank into the icy Atlantic Ocean. The hymn’s first verse begins, “When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrow, like sea billows roll.” It is concludes with the refrain, “It is well, it is well, with my soul.”

How could this hymn – which lacks the upbeat rhythms of today’s praise music – remain a favorite today, even a masterpiece, nearly 150 years later? I suspect it’s because, as Ruskin stated, love and skill were working together as the grieving father clung to his faith, devotion to a sovereign God who works all things together according to His perfect purpose (Romans 8:28). Even when we don’t understand why.

However, that pales in comparison to the wonders we see everywhere by the Lord Himself, starting with the first acts of creation described in the opening chapters of Genesis – light, the universe, the earth, living creatures of all kinds, and finally, mankind. After each stage of His creative work, God declared it was very good. Love and skill working together, creating an unimaginable masterpiece.

And it continues to this day. As the psalmist writes in words that could apply to every one of us, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well” (Psalm 139:13-14). Whether it’s a glorious sunrise or sunset, a delicate flower, or a wonderful newly born baby, there is no limit to masterpieces the Lord continues to create.

Because of this, we have the wonderful privilege of joining in what God is doing, serving as His “instruments of righteousness” (Romans 6:13). The Lord has entrusted each of us with skills and spiritual gifts, to be used in bringing honor and glory to Him and also for serving others. Motivated by love for our Savior, we can utilize our skills to create works that He will no doubt appraise as masterpieces.

Peace: For Many, It’s the Missing Piece

This snowy egret, unlike many of us, appears to be experiencing
an interlude of genuine peace.

“All I want is some peace and quiet!” Have you ever said that? In turbulent times, peace seems as rare as hope, about which I wrote recently. Ironically, these days even peace officers are hard-pressed to find peace. And quiet? What’s that? The barrage of noise surrounding us is relentless, powered by technology at every turn. We can’t escape noise. As if we’re afraid to be without it, we take it with us everywhere – on our smartphones, tablets and headphones.

Even if we succeed in finding quiet, maybe by leaving high-tech gadgets behind and fleeing to a remote setting civilization has barely penetrated, peace eludes our grasp. In this world, conflict and strife reign, not peace. Troubled thoughts, financial pressures, persistent aches and pains, relationship conflicts, even random worries, turn our minds into churning seas.

And yet, as He prepared to endure the most horrendous moments anyone in the flesh could experience, Jesus Christ promised, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (John 14:27).

That sounds great, but how can we find peace, much less sustain it, when circumstances conspire to keep us from it?

It helps to understand that when Jesus spoke about peace, He wasn’t referring to momentary, idyllic states of mind. He used the Hebrew word,shalom, which captures much more than just calmness or tranquility. The “Prince of Peace,” as Isaiah 9:6 describes Him, was offering something of much greater breadth and depth – well-being, wholeness, prosperity – that’s available to an individual, a group of people, or even a place.

Recently I was visiting with a friend dealing with stage 4 lung cancer along with the aftermath of another chemotherapy treatment. He talked about “the peace that passes all understanding,” as it’s expressed in Philippians 4:6. Even though he couldn’t explain why, my friend stated he truly felt peace in the midst of pain, fatigue, and his uncertain future on this side of eternity.

It occurs to me that this peace is the missing piece, the prescription for many people barely managing to survive, but unable to thrive. They’re angry, frustrated, mentally and emotionally exhausted, fearing the next straw that might be laid across the proverbial camel’s back.

Contrast such a mindset with the assurance of Isaiah 26:3, “[God] will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” Search as hard as we can, wherever we can, as long as we want, but nowhere else can we find this “perfect peace” that’s offered through the transforming, never-ending relationship with the God of all creation.

Even when we’re enjoying a moment of calm, it’s like a ship taking refuge in a safe harbor as a major storm approaches. Sooner or later, we have to venture back into the unpredictable seas, never knowing what lies ahead of us – but certain there will be more storms, perhaps even more intense than before.

That’s the bad news. But the good news is in the midst of the storm, the Lord hasn’t forgotten how to walk on the water. 

In 1873, attorney Horatio Spafford must have felt a kinship with Job. Two years earlier he had suffered major real estate losses in the great Chicago fire, and his four-year-old son had succumbed to scarlet fever. Hoping to enjoy a much-needed respite from his travails, Spafford planned to take his wife and four daughters to Europe. When an urgent business matter detained him, he ushered his wife, Anna, and daughters to their ship, the Ville du Havre, got them settled in a cabin, then sent them on ahead.

During the early morning hours of Nov. 23, 1873, the Ville du Havre collided with an iron sailing vessel. Within two hours, the ship had sunk. His four daughters were among the 226 fatalities, with only Anna among the 47 people rescued as she clung unconscious to a piece of wreckage. A cable sent to her husband read, “Saved Alone.”

Spafford immediately booked passage to join his wife. One evening during the voyage the ship’s captain informed him they were passing over the area where the ship had gone down. Returning to his cabin, Horatio scribbled down the thought that filled his heart: “It is well; the will of God be done.” Later he wrote a hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul,” based on those words.

Only with “the peace of God that passes all understanding” could Horatio Spafford find comfort and write that “peace like a river attendeth my way” while standing on a ship sailing over the spot where his children had perished. Truly, as Jesus said, it’s peace “not as the world gives.”

This reality prompted the apostle Paul, no stranger to turmoil and suffering himself, to encourage his brothers and sisters in Christ, “Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way” (2 Thessalonians 3:16). Whatever each of us might face today or in the future, may this be true for us as well.