by David Swanson
The imagination calls up new words, new images, new analogies, new metaphors, new illustrations, new connections to say old, glorious truth. Imagination is the faculty of the mind that God has given us to make the communication of his beauty beautiful. –John Piper
I begin with two assumptions. First, John Piper is correct about the magnitude of the imagination to the Christian life. How else can we relate to our spiritual ancestors, distant in time and culture? The teachings of Jesus demand his hearers to imagine a different way of living; his parables draw us into worlds we've never experienced. Scripture is filled with the poetic, apocalyptic and prophetic along with nail-biting and head-scratching narrative. Imagination helps me participate in this active Word of God; it's what moves me from an observer to an accomplice. Through a Christ-centered imagination history becomes my story, poetry becomes my prayer, and the coming Kingdom of God becomes my reality.
Second, Christian imagination is either stimulated or sedated by our surroundings. Having recently made the transition from the suburbs to life and ministry in Chicago, I'm convinced that our environment either hinders or stimulates this overlooked facet of discipleship. Consider a few generalizations from my previous and current zip codes.
Music, theater, visual arts and film all prod us to consider the world in new ways. Chicago has dozens of small theaters, film festivals and galleries of all kinds. A woman from our church recently staged a series of one-person Bouffon clown shows; something I didn't even know existed until she invited my wife and I to a performance. With few exceptions, suburbia's artistic exposure comes from one place: the megaplex. The movies consumed at these theaters generally reflect Hollywood's interest in the box office bottom line. The aesthetic quality of standard megaplex fare can be argued, but there is no comparison with the myriad of imagination-provoking artistic venues found in the city.
The suburb we moved from was 90% white, reflecting well my own skin color. Our new Chicago neighborhood is mostly made up of Polish and Mexican families. The ethnic and cultural diversity of city life exercises my imagination. I can't help but wonder about my neighbors' lives, customs and values. How does the priority of extended family held by some of my neighbors differ from my values of independence and autonomy? How does the immigrant experience of other neighbors affect their view of God?
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