Editorial: I Need Art to Blow Salty Sea Breeze into my Stale Room

When the Seventh-day Adventist Church tells its story, describing itself to those within or those outside, a fairly predictable cadre of storytellers come to the fore: theologians, administrators, televangelists...sometimes pastors, sometimes teachers.

The group that has seldom had a significant say in how the Adventist Church self defines, especially in post-Harry Anderson Adventism, is the artistic community—the creatives. It’s certainly not that Adventist creatives have nothing to say. It’s that Adventists, I think, have been fed a special diet of stylized realism and sincerity-saturated saccharine for so long that there’s no appetite for fictive meaning-making of the kind Pablo Picasso must have had in mind when he called art the lie that makes us realize the truth. That is why the General Conference couldn’t stomach an imaginative Great Controversy-inspired film, the Record Keeper, with as thinly-veiled an Adventist message as it had. It wasn’t overt enough, apparently. Instead, the General Conference gave the world this.

In the new Adventist landscape that follows the San Antonio General Conference Session, art, more than ever, needs to inform Adventism’s self understanding. Modernity—the garden in which Adventism grew and flowered—with its reliance on proposition, certainty, and rationalistic argumentation, has produced a deeply fractured church. Modernity, it turned out, was better at constructing citadels than cathedrals.

Art functions differently. Poetry, film, music, dance, textiles and painting speak the subversive vernacular of emotional resonance. Instead of a treatise on “Why America needs to deal more charitably with its immigrant populations,”

Lessons on Being an African Immigrant in America

1. Lose your accent. People will make fun of the African girl But nobody Nobody f***s with the black girls Even when young They can be so angry

2. DON’T. Stare. At. White People. They are not animals in the zoo

3. When they stare at you like an animal in the zoo, do not be confused. Do not bare teeth when they reach out to pet you To touch your hair without permission You are after all So exotic So foreign So other

Some will even call you inhuman They will call you alien Ask you ‘Who called your spaceship to crash-land your brain drain dreams onto these eastern shores? These eastern shores have already landed ships from your world when we invaded it But this is the 21st century and we don’t need chains to make slaves of people anymore’

4. With a name like Mwende Kalondu Katwiwa The jokes will come. Do not envy your brother David Or blame your mother Lucy The way their names roll smooth off foreign tongues is proof That colonization and assimilation go hand in hand You… Are your grandmother’s legacy

5. When black people tell you “You aren’t really black” Remind them How Amadou Diallo’s dead body looked no different than any other black man's in this gradual genocide And I know you may not call it that in this country But believe me when I say we know what genocide looks like Know what it sounds like It’s white lies telling families that they are now enemies We are identical twins that were separated at birth, now strangers The hardest thing we will both learn is how to replant a family tree whose fruits were exploited for gain and whose branches held nooses

6. When almost 300 of your west coast kin go missing and America claims them as 'Our Girls' Refrain from asking questions like, 'Why did it take a month and a hashtag for them to claim family when it was in the news? or 'Why weren’t the 60 schoolboys attacked by Boko Haram earlier this year claimed as 'our boys' too?’ Instead Ask that they do not Kony 2012 these 234 to the backs of their browsers That they not be the kind of family who only shows up to $12 weddings

7. When people ask you if you’re upset because you’re on your period the week Al Shabaab attacks a mall in your home country Do not marvel at how some think blood only comes out of holes that the body has formed naturally

8. Once you realize you can’t stop your metamorphosis from the African girl to the American girl every time you break free from western cocoon and fly to your roots Resist the urge to remain pupa in the silk of stolen comforts Brace for the turbulence that will shake your flight with the truth, That you are no longer sure which place is home and which is foreign To you.

I say Adventism needs a new language for telling its story, and I say art, to a much larger degree, needs to be that language.

In October of last year, I huddled in a San Diego hotel hallway with a small group of 20- and 30-something Adventists who wanted to create space for art within Adventism. That conversation was the birth of the Spectrum UltraViolet Arts Festival, which takes place this weekend in Glendale, California.

This festival could be just another Adventist gathering with interesting presentations and a thoughtful audience, or it could be something entirely different.

Since July, I’ve been looking for salty sea air to billow through the curtains into the stale room that Adventism has become for me. I’ve been looking for an inkwell to dip my pen into to start rewriting, and redrawing Adventism.

With DJs and Food Trucks, dance and music; visual, filmic and verbal storytelling, I’m hoping the UltraViolet Festival will blow open the doors of at least a small corner of the Adventist room with a blast of fresh air.

And I hope you’ll be there to see it happen too!

Here’s the registration page with details about the festival and its participants.

Jared Wright is Managing Editor of SpectrumMagazine.org.

If you respond to this article, please:

Make sure your comments are germane to the topic; be concise in your reply; demonstrate respect for people and ideas whether you agree or disagree with them; and limit yourself to one comment per article, unless the author of the article directly engages you in further conversation. Comments that meet these criteria are welcome on the Spectrum Website. Comments that fail to meet these criteria will be removed.

This is a companion discussion topic for the original entry at http://spectrummagazine.org/node/7068

Seventh day Adventistism CANNOT handle Creatives.
Art, in what ever form — drawings, paintings, sculptures, 2D, 3D, pictures, film, dance, the spoken word, ALL are Dangerous to the Mind.
Art forms can make fun of us. Art makes us see things the printed page cannot. It can bring out all our warts, all our misshapeness. It makes one question one self, one’s environment, one’s values, one’s dreams. It can begin the thinking process to dream New Dreams, New Values, a New Self, a Change in One’s Environment, a Change in how one perceives other people, even the Acceptance of Other people that were previously ignored.
Art forms can even make us Accept Ourselves.
Art forms can make us capture different glimpses of God, and make us uncomfortable with what we see compared to what we were told about God. Is it OK? to enjoy this New God?
Yes, for the Seventh day Adventist, creativity in the use of the ARTS, to explain ourselves and the World below, and the World Above, is a Dangerous Place for the Adventist Mind to look, to behold, to stare at, to receive the non-verbal, the un-printed messages, the Emotional Messages. To Stimulate the un-used areas of our Brain, to force Both Sides of our Brains to talk to each other in our Nightly Dreaming.

1 Like

Wow! Steve.

…so what does that say abut Adventism? (Rhetorical question since you can’t answer that here. (Psst: Spectrum eds, hint, hint)

Adventism loses so much that actually means something by limiting its vision to just one person.


steve, To the classic Adventist mind, Art come very close to a graven image. At one time photographs and wall hangings were out… How did one separate enjoy from worship. On my dresser I have photos of my wife and three children. But I direct my prayer for them to God the Father in the name of his Son. Now Loma Linda is chock a block with statuary. there is nothing post modern about any. I think hymns are a form of art that we use to open and close our worship services.Certainly the Psalms are an art form. So I am with you on this one, big time. Tom Z


Thanks Jared. I now understand myself a little better.

I saw War Room a couple of days ago. I was left disconcerted. Does this movie depict how we really should relate to God. Is it meant to be the same for all people. Was the movie truth, or could I hang my hat on it being fiction.

Your quote ‘art the lie that makes us realise the truth’ puts it all into perspective. For too long I have relied on the cold hard facts to understand God. A little creativity will help. Without needing to take it all too seriously.


Though not the case for many people, for me it was a revelation to think that in some ways Scripture could be true, whether or not it is factual (as one example of how the statement might play out). That distinction is a sensibility that art, with its “make-believe” (in the most profound sense) provides, I think.


Our attitude towards art (especially visual arts) indeed very likely is rooted in our pioneers’ rediscovery of the second commandment as well as the puritan atmosphere in which early Adventism was formed. Thus for purists Harry Anderson and all that came with it, was an enigma…

Today’s Adventism is primarily fearful of ambivalence of any kind. Especially the last GC tried to rid our Manual of any ambivalence, any diversity, narrowing Adventism down to one particular, limited world view. Art is ambivalent, open to free associations, new ideas, perhaps even weird ideas, expression of life lived to the fullest. Indeed, difficult to “handle”, to control, to functionalize…

So yes, @jared we do need more encouragement, coaching, coaxing and a breeze of fresh air. Thanks for taking the initiative.


Jared, your hopeful article reminds me of my favorite quote, “What all men need is fresh air, fresh air… more than anything!” – Fyodor Dostoevsky

It is tempting to add “and women” after “men” and yet, as written it can be read as a reaction against the stifling patriarchy of the past few centuries. Indeed, it is time for some fresh air.

My hope along with yours is that this weekend at the Spectrum Ultraviolet Arts Festival we will throw open the doors and windows and maybe even knock down a wall or two so that we can all breath again.

As Jared said, I hope you’ll be there to see it and perhaps help make it happen too.