S1: Welcome to the habit podcast conversations with writers about writing.
S1: I'm Jonathan Rogers, your host. I'm going to try something
S1: new here at the Habit podcast. Instead of an interview,
S1: I'm going to read you a little essay I wrote.
S1: I presented a version of this essay as a talk
S1: for The Rabbit Room's 2024 House moot event. It's called love,
S1: happiness and Creative Work. The music you hear every week
S1: on this podcast is Diamonds by Taylor Leonard. It's a
S1: song I love, and I especially love this line from
S1: the chorus. You are not an afterthought. Love himself dreamed
S1: you up. That idea is the starting point for this
S1: essay about love and creativity. It's also going to be
S1: the ending point, and I'm going to hit it a
S1: few times in the middle too. You are not an afterthought.
S1: Love himself. Dreamed you up probably ten years ago. Maybe
S1: further back than that. I attended a talk by the
S1: mathematician and apologist John Lennox. He suggested that the fundamental
S1: difference between an atheist and a theist is that an
S1: atheist believes that matter gave rise to mind, and a
S1: theist believes that mind gave rise to matter. I'm quite
S1: sure he wasn't the first person to articulate that idea,
S1: but he was the first person I ever heard articulate it,
S1: and I've thought about it quite a bit ever since.
S1: So again, for an atheist or a materialist somehow matter
S1: organized in such a way that it gave rise to minds.
S1: And for a theist of any kind, whether a Christian
S1: or some other kind of theist, there was a God
S1: who had an idea, and that idea ultimately became the universe.
S1: Josef Pieper, paraphrasing Thomas Aquinas, wrote, the essence of things
S1: is that they are creatively thought. That's a remarkable thing
S1: to think about. The essence of a thing is not
S1: its atoms or its molecules or its cells. The essence
S1: of a thing is that it was creatively thought. Everything
S1: that exists in the universe exists because God thought it
S1: was a good idea. Love himself dreamed you up. He
S1: also dreamed up trees and porcupines and cities and music.
S1: God thought all those things were a good idea. And
S1: that's why they exist. And by the way, you are
S1: able to think about things. Your mind can engage with
S1: things because those things were thought first by God. Things
S1: are intelligible to your mind because things are mind shaped.
S1: Everything you've ever thought about God thought about first. And so,
S1: in a literal sense, we are always thinking God's thoughts
S1: after him. You've probably heard that phrase before thinking God's
S1: thoughts after him. I've seen it used in a few
S1: different contexts, starting with a sort of Christian world and
S1: life view movement. I want to think about the world
S1: the way God thinks about the world, or I want
S1: to judge matters of, say, morality, the way God judges
S1: matters of morality. That's one way to to think about
S1: the phrase thinking God's thoughts after him. I think the
S1: phrase thinking God's thoughts after him originated with Johannes Kepler,
S1: the 16th and 17th century astronomer who described science as
S1: thinking God's thoughts after him. God thought the universe into being.
S1: And so when we're doing scientific work, in Kepler's case,
S1: understanding the way planets and the stars move, we're thinking
S1: God's thoughts after him. I've already suggested that in one
S1: important sense, we can't help but think God's thoughts after him,
S1: because everything you've ever thought about was God's thought before
S1: it was a thing. But also, I want to consider
S1: the possibility that to love is to think God's thoughts
S1: after him. The word love is used in a lot
S1: of different ways, right? I love my wife. I love
S1: my children. I love my friends. I love sad old
S1: country songs. I love Shakespeare's King Lear, I love watermelon.
S1: All right, I'm not going to get pedantic about the
S1: difference between agape love and phileo love and Eros love.
S1: Nor am I going to scold anybody about using the
S1: word love too loosely. Rather, I want to pay attention
S1: to what all those uses of the word love have
S1: in common. As Josef Pieper says, in every conceivable case.
S1: Love signifies the same thing as approval. So no, I
S1: don't mean exactly the same thing when I say I
S1: love watermelon and my wife and King Lear, but I
S1: do at least mean that I approve of them. As
S1: Peter points out, approval derives from the Latin word Probus,
S1: which just means good. So then to approve of or
S1: to love a person or a thing is to say
S1: it is good that you exist. It's good wife that
S1: you exist. It's good friend that you exist. It's good
S1: watermelon that you exist. I don't think it's a stretch
S1: then to offer this working definition. To love is to
S1: say God thinks it's a good idea that this person,
S1: or even this thing exists. And so I think it
S1: is to love himself. Dreamed you up, love himself, thought
S1: you were a good idea. And he wasn't wrong about that.
S1: To love is to agree with the God who made
S1: the beloved. When you love a child, you affirm the child.
S1: You say it's good that the child exists, but also
S1: you affirm the child's maker and the whole plan that
S1: resulted in this child's existence. In doing so, you align
S1: your will with the will of the maker who thought
S1: that child was a good idea. I know you've heard
S1: this idea before, that love is not an emotion. It's
S1: an act of the will. Well, yes and amen. Pieper
S1: says the most extreme form of affirmation that can possibly
S1: be conceived of is creation, which is very much an
S1: act of the will. Remember in the creation story, at
S1: the end of every day, God says it is good.
S1: God made that statement after each phase of creation. But
S1: Thomas Aquinas would say that love, that approval, affirmation, preceded
S1: the creation. So it's not just that God made things
S1: and then judged them good, it's that he knew they
S1: would be good. And so he made them. So then,
S1: in creation, love and will are altogether inseparable. Everything exists
S1: because God wanted it to exist. Because he thought it
S1: was good. Love himself dreamed you up. And so human
S1: love is always an imitation and a repetition of the
S1: love of God. So Pepper, again, he says, the lover
S1: knows that his affirmation directed toward the beloved would be
S1: pointless were not some other force akin to creation involved,
S1: and moreover, a force not merely preceding his own love,
S1: but one that is still at work, and that he himself,
S1: the loving person, participates in and helps along by loving. Okay,
S1: I know that was a lot, but let's put it
S1: this way when you love, you are joining into a
S1: love that is already in motion, the love of God
S1: for the creature. That love precedes your love, but also
S1: the loving and creative act of God is still unfolding.
S1: Creation is not just something that happened in the past
S1: and is now finished. Rather, creation is always continuing and
S1: the human lover, by some mystery has a part to
S1: play in that creative act. If that sounds overly mystical,
S1: consider this there are people you love in whom you
S1: see things that they can't see in themselves as you
S1: call out those things in them, you help them become
S1: who they really are. It's the lovers job to see
S1: things in the beloved that the beloved can't see in
S1: herself or himself. So your love is an echo of
S1: the love of God. But it's not only an echo,
S1: it's also a continuation and even an expansion of the
S1: creative act that God is doing. God allows us to
S1: participate in his ongoing creation. So there's the argument that
S1: love is a kind of creative work. Your love for
S1: the people around you, your love for the world around you,
S1: is a kind of creative work, because our love affirms
S1: and agrees with the loving, creative work of God. And
S1: because God's love and creativity are not past tense, are
S1: not completed. We are in some way participants in the
S1: unfolding of the glories of the people we love. That's
S1: a pretty remarkable thing to think about, isn't it? So then,
S1: if love is a kind of creative work, can we
S1: also say that creative work is a kind of love? Well,
S1: I think the answer is yes. Thus far, I've mostly
S1: been talking about loving people. It's maybe easier to understand
S1: some of these concepts when we apply them to people, right?
S1: As we love the people we love, we participate in
S1: the unfolding and the expansion of their glories. And also
S1: the God who began a good work in you will
S1: complete that work through the people who love you, right?
S1: God began the work. He's going to complete it. And
S1: somehow human love is a part of that process. But
S1: what about the rest of the world? What about the
S1: not people aspects of creation, which, by the way, accounts
S1: for most of creation? Well, God loves that creation too.
S1: And according to Romans eight, the creation itself will be
S1: liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the
S1: freedom and glory of the children of God. So just
S1: as people are moving toward a glorified state, the rest
S1: of creation is also moving toward a glorified state. And
S1: we have a role there too. A loving role, a
S1: creative role. So we can't create out of nothing like
S1: God can, but we can rearrange the materials that God
S1: has given us, and we can be a part of
S1: the process by which creation itself is liberated from bondage
S1: to decay, and brought into the freedom and glory of
S1: the children of God. We participate in the divine image
S1: when we cultivate the goodness of the world in which
S1: we find ourselves. When I teach writing, I often talk
S1: to writers about loving their reader. Well. The truth is,
S1: one of the challenges involved in loving your reader is
S1: that you don't necessarily know who your reader is. How
S1: do you love somebody when you don't know who they are? Well,
S1: I think the way you do that is simply to
S1: love what you love and invite your reader into the
S1: things that you love. As you affirm, as you agree
S1: with God that these things were good ideas. As you
S1: work to enhance the glories of the world, to show
S1: people the glories of things that you care about. Well, essentially,
S1: that's a way of tending to the little patch of
S1: ground that is yours to tend to. You're like the
S1: gardener who creates a beautiful public garden for the people
S1: who pass by. He loves those people by loving his garden.
S1: The theologian Elaine T cherry wrote a book called God
S1: of the Art of happiness. I ran across this book accidentally.
S1: I was looking for books about hospitality, but the happiness
S1: books come right before the hospitality books on the shelf
S1: at Vanderbilt Divinity Library. And I love something she says,
S1: she writes. Our limited participation in God by virtue of
S1: our God given creativity, intelligence, and goodness suffices to bring
S1: other things to their own flourishing by enhancing the well-being
S1: of creation's materials, both inert and living. We transmit God's
S1: creative goodness to the things on which we act for
S1: their gainful use. That use is in turn transmitted to
S1: those who will use and enjoy them. I know there's
S1: a lot there. We're going to try to work through
S1: it here. I love this idea of we have this
S1: limited participation in God by virtue of our God given creativity, intelligence,
S1: and goodness. It's limited, and yet that's part of our
S1: image bearing role. Um. As you tend to your little
S1: patch of ground, you benefit the people who pass through. Okay.
S1: The idea here that we transmit God's creative goodness, um,
S1: when we bring things to their gainful use, right. We
S1: we bring good things to the, the things we've worked on,
S1: but we also bring good things to the people who
S1: benefit from them. And I want to emphasize something that, um,
S1: maybe a slightly surprising she talks about enhancing the well-being
S1: of creation's materials, both inert and living. So that's worth
S1: thinking about a little bit. Right. The inert aspects of
S1: the created order? Well, they're part of the created order, too.
S1: And they have a well-being that we can serve. That
S1: may not seem self-evident, but think about this. If you're
S1: a gardener, you're bringing the raw material of creation, some
S1: of it inert. Right? Soil is inert. Um, but you're
S1: bringing it toward its perfection, and you're adding to the
S1: goodness and to the glory and to the wonders around you.
S1: And in so doing, you're loving the people around you.
S1: And also, we're going to return to this in a minute.
S1: You're making the world look a little bit more like
S1: the world you want to live in. I used. I've
S1: been using the example of a community garden that benefits
S1: the people in the community, but also it benefits the
S1: gardener because now the neighborhood has a garden. The neighborhood
S1: is more like the kind of neighborhood that gardener wants
S1: to live in. Well, Elaine Cherry uses the language of flourishing, right?
S1: She speaks of using your God given creativity, intelligence and
S1: goodness to bring things to their own flourishing. Well, Aquinas
S1: says essentially the same thing, but he uses the language
S1: of purpose. He says since all things are purposeful, the
S1: better we advance other things to their proper purpose, the
S1: more godly we are and the happier we become as
S1: the persons we are and are becoming. The idea is
S1: this God had an idea of what any given thing
S1: was and what it was for before he made it. Therefore,
S1: everything has a purpose, okay? Everything that was thought is purposeful,
S1: and then you move toward joy as you advance other
S1: things toward their proper purpose. As you extend out from
S1: your own self and see how you can make the
S1: things of the created order align a little more with
S1: their purpose. You're affirming and you're agreeing with God's purposes.
S1: So when we do creative work, and I'm defining creative
S1: work very broadly here, we're doing a few different things simultaneously.
S1: One thing we're doing is simply giving voice to or
S1: drawing the attention of our readers or listeners or audience members,
S1: the people who pass through our patch of ground. We're
S1: drawing their attention to the glories of creation. Right? We
S1: give an account of the hope that is within us.
S1: When Saint Peter talks about always being prepared to give
S1: an account of the hope that's within you. I always
S1: assumed that he was talking about making arguments. Now, I
S1: think maybe it's more about just affirming, giving an account
S1: of what it is that seems good about the created order.
S1: It seems like the world needs that kind of affirmation
S1: as much as it ever has, to give an account
S1: of the hope within us. Maybe as simple as saying,
S1: I have seen these wonders and I want you to
S1: see them too. It's a way of saying it's good
S1: that these things exist. God wasn't wrong when he thought
S1: they were a good idea. Well, maybe along the same lines,
S1: Wendell Berry wrote, the business of literature, then, is to
S1: renew not only itself, but also our sense of the
S1: perennial newness of what is perennially new. Yes and amen.
S1: So that's one role, an incredibly important role of a
S1: person who's doing creative work. And all good work is
S1: creative in some sense. Whatever work you do, I hope
S1: you're always giving a truer account of things than the
S1: world is giving. Every time you make a good meal
S1: and serve it to people you love. You're telling a
S1: different story than, say, McDonald's is telling. When you garden,
S1: you bring order to disorder. You're telling a story about
S1: how the world can be. So you're always telling a
S1: truer story in your creative work. You're always bearing witness
S1: to a created order that you didn't make that exists
S1: without reference to you. Okay. That's one thing you're doing.
S1: But also when you make, you are also adding to
S1: the stock of good things in the world, right? You're
S1: not just pointing to good things that you didn't make.
S1: And as you stay alert to the wonders of the world,
S1: those wonders inspire you to do. They inspire you to make.
S1: And yet, as Junius Johnson has said, the wonder you
S1: create is not the wonder you first saw. You take
S1: in as much as you can take in. You try
S1: to give a voice to it. But what you produce
S1: always turns out to be something different from what you
S1: took in. That can be frustrating. And yet, when you
S1: make anything at all, you've added to the stock of
S1: wonder in the world. So even when your work feels
S1: like a failure, I hope you'll consider the possibility that
S1: you've added to the stock of wonders in the world.
S1: And the wonders of the world are shared property, which
S1: is to say, as they increase, we all get richer.
S1: Here's what Thomas Aquinas had to say on the subject.
S1: And I have to acknowledge Elaine Terry again, because I
S1: first saw this Aquinas quote in her book, the good
S1: of one becomes common to many if it flows from
S1: the one to the others. God communicated his goodness to
S1: his creatures in such wise that one thing can communicate
S1: to another the good. It has received two ideas I
S1: want to make sure you get from this. First, the
S1: idea of the good of one becoming the good of
S1: the many. As you put good things into the world,
S1: those goods become common property. And secondly, God organized the
S1: universe in such a way that the good that he
S1: has given to you is communicable to others. And I
S1: don't just mean communicable, as in you can put it
S1: into a message that can then be told or sung
S1: or preached or whatever. Goodness is communicable the way the
S1: flu is communicable. And so the goodness of God has
S1: blessed you with the gifts that he has blessed you
S1: with are communicable to others. They can be passed along,
S1: and as they are communicated, they become shared property. To
S1: borrow from Lewis Hyde's book, The Gift, intangible goods like
S1: beauty and hope and love and joy operate in the
S1: gift economy, not the market economy. And when you give
S1: away intangible goods, they aren't subtracted from your stock. They
S1: are multiplied. When you give away love or joy or beauty,
S1: you have more, not less. If you give away knowledge,
S1: you don't have less knowledge. In fact, you have your
S1: knowledge more completely. So again, when you're doing creative work,
S1: when you are adding to the stock of wonders in
S1: the world, you aren't working in an economy of scarcity.
S1: It's not a zero sum game as you do good work,
S1: as you bring other things and other people to their
S1: own flourishing, the good you add becomes common to many.
S1: The flourishing that you give to others becomes your own flourishing.
S1: So here's Elaine Cherry again, acting on things for their
S1: good advances, their purpose. And as this happens, we are
S1: also improving. Enhancing the flourishing of others enhances our own.
S1: This is enjoying ourselves and being happy in life. In
S1: addition to being godlike, living excellently is simply pleasurable. So
S1: as you affirm and agree with and participate in the
S1: loving creativity of the God who dreamed all this up,
S1: the world you live in starts to look more like
S1: the world you want to live in. Along the Camino
S1: de Santiago, the pilgrimage route in Spain, there's a monastery
S1: called Iraci that's quite famous among the pilgrims who pass
S1: through all along the Camino ends in hostels and villages,
S1: provide water fountains for the hot, thirsty, dusty travelers who
S1: are walking through. So, like many of the hospitable locals
S1: along the route, the monks at Iraci provide a water fountain,
S1: but also they provide a wine fountain. The monastery has
S1: its own vineyard, so the monks invite pilgrims passing through
S1: to fill up a cup of wine. At the wine fountain,
S1: there's a sign at the fountain that translates Pilgrim. If
S1: you want to reach Santiago with strength and vitality, drink
S1: from this great wine and toast to happiness. It's a
S1: kindness to provide water to those passing through. But wine?
S1: That's just prodigal, right? The monks have created this little
S1: outpost of the kingdom of heaven where wine flows like water.
S1: I love that image. I love it for the pilgrims,
S1: but I especially love it for the monks. The people
S1: who pass through. Well, they're just passing through. But the monks,
S1: they live in a place where wine flows like water.
S1: And don't you think they love that? Don't you think
S1: they love living in a world where that kind of
S1: prodigality is an everyday occurrence? Again, this is the economy
S1: you live in when you do creative work. Your little
S1: patch of ground is a blessing to the people who
S1: pass through, and that's gratifying. But just as importantly, you
S1: get to live there. You get to live in this
S1: place that looks a little bit more like the world
S1: you want to live in. It's good that you exist.
S1: Love himself dreamed you up. So I hope you'll go
S1: out and do some good work. Make some beautiful things.
S1: The Habit Podcast is brought to you by the Rabbit Room,
S1: where art nourishes community, and community nourishes art. You can
S1: support their work including this podcast, by becoming a member.
S1: Visit rabbit room.com/membership. Special thanks as well to Taylor Leonard
S1: for letting us use her song diamonds as the theme
S1: music for The Habit podcast. You can learn more about
S1: Taylor and follow her work at Taylor leonard.com. The Habit
S1: membership is a library of resources for writers by me,
S1: Jonathan Rogers. More importantly, the habit is a hub of
S1: community where like minded writers gather to discuss their work
S1: and give each other a little more courage. Find out
S1: more at the habit.co.