“Imaginative or creative”—a piece of music, a story, a painting, a spreadsheet? This adjective seems readily applicable to the first three, but we stumble over the last one or hear it as pejorative. A creative or imaginative illustration, play, or novel all seem legitimate. But creative accounting, imaginative engineering, or creative jurisprudence all give us pause and make us wonder if the speaker is praising or disparaging the work in question.
Imagination is the art or power of forming a meaningful image of something not present to the senses or never before wholly perceived. Create can mean to bring into existence or to produce or bring about by a course of action or behavior. Nothing in these definitions limit either action to certain fields or pursuits. Then why have we, as a culture, tended to acknowledge the imagination only in the so-called “creative arts”?
Our lives call out for redemption and meaning. We are told that we are created “in the image and likeness” of God. God, of course, is the creator par excellence. God said, and it was. We do not have that kind of generative power with our intellect and our bodies. But we have a creative urge within us. God endowed us with an imagination, a faculty that no other being on this earth has, as far as we can tell.
But it cannot be that in order to use this faculty we can only turn to the “creative arts.” Indeed, to try to do so is an exercise in frustration for many of us. So how do we engage our imagination and be creative? If that statement in Genesis means anything, it must mean that he wanted some of us to be butchers, bakers, or bankers, and to be creative and imaginative in the midst of it.
The author of Ecclesiastes also tells us to embrace whatever vocation we have:
Go, eat your bread with enjoyment, and drink your wine with a merry heart; for God has already approved what you do. Let your garments be always white; let not oil be lacking on your head. Enjoy life with the wife whom you love, all the days of your vain life which he has given you under the sun, because that is your portion in life and in your toil at which you toil under the sun. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might; for there is no work or thought or knowledge or wisdom in Sheol, to which you are going.
Ecclesiastes 9:7-10 RSV-CE, emphasis added.
We were created to work in this world. Surely the God who ordered the stars and the planets appreciates when we create a stack of clean dishes or a well-written report? God gave us the power of imagination so that we could be like him, at least in a limited capacity. None of us can create ex nihilo, but we can create new combinations of existing things.
Dallas Willard wrote in his article “Jesus the Logician” (Willard, Dallas. “Jesus the Logician.” Christian Scholar’s Review XXVIII, no. 4 (1999): 605-614) that we generally do not view Jesus as being smart and talented. We view him as humble and loving, but most of us do not look to him as an example of how to live out our daily lives in our particular occupation. If we think about such things, it is only in a moralizing “what would Jesus do?” way. But as Willard says, “How could we be [Christ’s] disciples at our work, take him seriously as our teacher there, if when we enter our fields of technical or professional competence we must leave him at the door?” Is it right for us to only think of Christ in the ethics, but not the practice of our profession? The question must go beyond “would Jesus bake the cake for the wedding?” to “How would Jesus bake?”
This is why a Christian imagination needs cultivating. We need the ability to imagine that Jesus cares about my radiator, my casserole, or my cost-benefit analysis. The ability to see that he cares for it—not just for the ends to which it will be put, but for the thing itself—because it is a creation of his child. Can we imagine that God loves us enough to give us undivided attention—even when we are at “work” and not at “prayer”? If I manage to believe that God genuinely cares about my work and pays attention to me performing it, the outgrowth of that reality will be that I may begin to understand how he would have me perform my work. If we can do this, we may have accomplished a revolution.
We are told by Jesus that God is our Father. Does our heavenly Father, at least metaphorically, hang our work on his refrigerator? Even if it isn’t a painting or a drawing? Being all powerful, he can just as easily hang our interior decorating, or our rebuilt lawnmower, or our term paper on his heavenly fridge.
But for many of us, our eight-to-five does not feel full of creativity and imagination; facts and figures, memos and meetings, cubicles and computers. It tends to feel more like an assembly line than a design studio. Few of us feel like craftsmen.
G.K. Chesterton contemplated this in his essay “A Defence of China Shepherdesses” which I would commend to your reading. Here’s an excerpt:
There certainly should be an ideal image of health and happiness in any trade, and its remoteness from the reality is not the only important question. No one supposes that the mass of traditional conceptions of duty and glory are always operative, for example, in the mind of a soldier or a doctor…. It is a serious calamity that no such ideal exists in the case of the vast number of honorable trades and crafts on which the existence of a modern city depends. It is a pity that current thought and sentiment offer nothing corresponding to the old conception of patron saints. If they did there would be a Patron Saint of Plumbers, and this alone would be a revolution, for it would force the individual craftsman to believe that there was once a perfect being who did actually plumb.
What if we had a patron saint of accountants? Sure, an internet search reveals that St. Matthew, the author of the first gospel, has that title. What about engineers? St. Patrick, says Google. But ask yourself, do you know a single accountant or engineer who has been excited or inspired by that pronouncement?
We may acknowledge that a Christian imagination is necessary to help us enter into the world of the Scriptures as we read them. It is probably necessary for us morally, to be able to visualize what it means to “love our neighbor as Christ loved them.” But what does a Christian imagination look like sitting in a cubicle in front of a computer completing an expense report? I am not sure I have a definitive answer, but I do believe that it is a question worth asking.
It is a question we must ask if we are to truly be saved, not only in the life to come, but saved from drudgery and despair in this life.
Perhaps we can begin to pursue Christian imagination in the workplace by asking a few questions.
“Can I imagine Jesus in this situation/task/job?” Scripture tells us Joseph was a carpenter, and Jesus is often depicted as a youth learning that trade. What if Joseph had been an actuary or a chemist? If that seems too much of a reach, “Can I imagine a saint to whom I have a particular devotion in this situation/task/job?” Maybe I need to find out who the patron of my profession is and get to know them?
Going back to God’s refrigerator, “Can I believe that God cares about what I am doing right now if for no other reason than I am his child and I am doing it?”
“Lord, what if I….?”
That last question is the beginning of real imaginative transformation. Allowing our Christ-formed minds to see the world around us—not the entire planet, but our worlds, our houses and offices and sales floors—as they could be under the influence of the Gospel. By taking our workaday tasks before God in prayer, we might find he has some inspiration for us.
Consider with me two acts of fairly mundane creativity. First, the intermodal shipping container. Malcolm McLean is not a name I think any of us have thrown around in conversation. And while he did not invent the idea, he had the vision to make the now-ubiquitous shipping container a revolution in logistics which had profound effects on the global economy of the last 60 years. “Legend has it that, as he watched the stevedores gradually unload his truck bale by bale, and load the ship equally slowly, he dreamed of a day when the whole truck trailer could just be lifted onto the deck in one motion.” The economic impacts have been profound.
Another example of imagination comes to use from a German engraver. One day his imagination prompted him to ask, “what if, instead of using full-page wood engravings for printing, I made a bunch of individual letters out of metal that I could rearrange?” The man, of course, was Johannes Gutenberg, and his invention launched the information age.
Both of these men and their creativity touch our lives every day. We think of neither of them as an “artist,” yet they employed their imagination to create new ways of doing things that changed the world.
What if tomorrow you looked at your task list and asked, in a spirit of prayer to God, “What is the ‘what if’ you would have me seek today, Lord?” The answer may be a new technique, a new item, or, perhaps most importantly, a new attitude. I pray that we’ll have the imagination to see the answer when it comes.