Connecting to the Divine

by: Madison Richards

There's a song by Switchfoot called "Living is Simple". Part of the lyrics go like this:

Is this fiction?

Is this fiction?

Hope has given himself to the world?

Is this fiction or divine comedy

Where the last of the last finish first

Living is simple

Well used but still relevant, Shakespeare reminds us that we are but players on a stage, both more and less important than we often like to think of ourselves. Sometimes life feels like fiction, sometimes divine comedy. Is life simply living or is there more? This seems to be the fundamental question we all come to when assessing our gifts and our talents, and how they intersect with the world.

Like nature vs. nurture for scribes, the question is often asked: are great writers born or made? The answer to the question is 'both', and that's no politically correct cop out.

All truly great writing - like any art - is born out of a connection with the divine. As Orhan Pamuk said in his recen t nobel prize speech entitled: "My Father's Suitcase"

I am most surprised by those moments when I have felt as if the sentences…have not come from my own imagination that another power has found them and generously presented them to me.

It is safe to say that all writers can be made better, through instruction, through study, and through practice. This is almost a given - most endeavors, when studied and practiced, can be improved upon. Let's peel the onion back a bit further though, and try to discover the real answer.

Two musicians are scheduled to play the same gig on the same night. The first musician is very practiced. He is technically perfect. His melodies move the songs along flawlessly. No wrong notes are hit, and nothing about the performance makes anyone cringe or judge this musician's talent harshly. In fa ct, enormous applause rises from the crowd as he finishes. Even non musicians can appreciate this well executed series of notes and melodies.

The second musician takes to the stage. From the first moment their hands strike a chord something changes in the room. They appear to have transcended the music itself and are moving in a different realm as they play. The music appears to be living, breathing, and catches you up in its rhythms until you realize it is accessing a place deep in your spirit that doesn't normally get touched, much less caressed. The melodies are less complex but more beautiful. The musician hits a few off notes but they are covered by the grace of the entire piece, in some indefinable way reminding us of the complex mystery that occurs when art and humanity collide.

True art comes from the divine. As artists we occasionally get to tap into that realm of the divine and the exhilaration of that experience keeps us coming back for more. But are we coming back for more of the art or just the divine? Is it the writing itself we love or that intangible connection that feeds our very spirit and propels us toward our destiny? The writer isn't in it for the praise of the people - he is in it, at its core, for the deepening relationship with the giver. The fact that others are moved, touched, encouraged or changed by this conglomeration of gift and giver is not in fact, the meat on the plate. It's more like the garnish.

Some of you have read these words before: Desire reveals design, and design reveals destiny. The underlying principle is that all gifts and talents, and writing is one of them - are just that - gifts. We are naturally passionate in the area of our gifting, and one of the ways we figure out what we're made for is by looking at what drives our passions. Your passion is an indicator of what you were made for, but that's another blog post entirely.

The point is, with a lot of hard work a writer can learn to nail the formula for a best seller. They can study the trends and write a culturally relevant non fiction book that stays in hardcover for over a year. These accomplishments however, will only ever be a second rate counterfeit to the real thing.

Only by connecting with the giver can we ever hope to use our gift to its fullest potential. The kind of writing that touches places deep within our spirits is the very writing that connects the gift with the giver. When that happens, something magical occurs, with no logical explanation. When that happens, it doesn't matter if the metaphors are blatant or veiled, the prose lyrical or direct. If we are connected to the divine, then our writing should be able to move back and forth fairly effortlessly.

A person who desires to write deep and moving prose, fiction or nonfiction, has but to draw near to the source. Otherwise they can have their master's in writing, attend every writing conference in the free world, and labor for hours a day, and they will only ever produce technically good and accurate writing which, like the first musician, is merely an enjoyable experience. To produce stories that move people? This isn't entirely dependent on skill. By far easier said than done, it requires intimacy, depth of relationship, and the relentless pursuit of humility.

Writers, it has been said, are a dime a dozen. There are perhaps millions of people who have been given the gift of writing, but what they do with their gift is up to them. I am not in any way implying that writers should not try to hone their gift or improve on technical elements like style and syntax. I'm not even talking about the difference between a person for whom words seem to flow effortlessly vs. those who spend all day revising two or three really great sentences. There is certainly a large variety of gifts and talents within the whole of what we would call 'writers'.

Peter Parker was told by his uncle: "With great power comes great responsibility." To that end he later mused: "This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I am Spiderman." Words hold the power to bless or to curse. Sometimes the gift itself feels much like a curse, so heavy is the weight of it on our hearts. As writers we have a responsibility not only to our craft, but also to appropriately steward the gift. Peter Parker also said: "Not everyone is meant to make a difference. But for me, the choice to lead an ordinary life is no longer an option.

"Words do make a difference.  Excellent writing merges together the art and the craft, the train and the track. The end of that Switchfoot song goes like this:

I've had my choices

I've chosen today

I've had my choices

The choices remain

This is my gift, my curse. 

Who am I? I am a writer...

©2006 Madison Richards

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