Chapter 1
Creativity in the Bible
God creates. That’s the first thing the Bible tells us.
Later in Genesis 1, we find that humans are made “in his image” (v. 26), a phrase that has sent preachers and scholars scrambling for explanations. There are many good theories about how human beings resemble God, and here’s one of them: . Just like our Creator, we are creative, too.
The first humans were asked to “fill the earth”—no doubt procreation is primarily in view—and to manage it. Flash forward thousands of years to today, and we see humans are still using their creativity to bring order to the natural world. From the plow to the PC, from city councils to social media, we have created tools and systems to fulfill our God–given charge.
Granted, there have been many mistakes along the way. The “risk” of allowing human beings this gift is that they can also misuse it, exploiting creation instead of creatively managing and developing it.
In the second chapter of Genesis, we are given another perspective of creation—viewed not from above, from a cosmic perspective, but from below, within a garden. There Adam is shown tending the plants, perhaps inventing some agricultural methods. Then we are told he’s also given the task of naming the animals. This simple phrase opens up a whole new area of creative expression.
Names hold high importance in Scripture. We are often told what names mean, as clues to characters’ identity or the issues in their world at the time. Some people changed their names after life–changing events. So for Adam to see a creature and fashion a name for it was more than just talk. For Adam to name the animals suggested the power to shape the destiny of other creatures and creation itself. Consider also that this is the first time we hear human language in the Bible. Perhaps Adam was sculpting sounds in certain ways that seemed appropriate to the essence of each animal. And isn’t this what artists do?
As we continue through the Bible, we find, again and again, the following categories of creativity: (1) practical inventions that “tame” the earth; and (2) artistic expressions that capture the nature of reality. So Jabal develops the business we know as ranching, while his brother Jubal plays the harp and flute and apparently teaches others to do so (Genesis 4:20–2121). Work and play. Business and art. All of this is creative. In these origin stories, when we read that, for example, Tubal–Cain forged tools (Genesis 4:22), we must remember that he was probably making the first tools of their kind—not only pounding them out, but inventing them.
Cain built a city, Noah built a boat, and the brash citizens of Babel built a tower. Just imagine the skill developing such architecture involved and the ingenuity of these first engineering and design choices. The Bible’s opening chapters surge with practical invention, but notice also how often these stories flow into poetry. You may be familiar with Adam’s original love song—“Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (Genesis 2:23)—but there were several other ancient lyrics included in the sacred text as well, even one that showcases the quick descent of humanity into wickedness after God expelled them from the garden (Genesis 4:23–24).
Some Definitions
So what is creativity? Modern scholars have been playing with a wide variety of definitions for some time. A definition I’m fond of focuses simply on two primary factors: originality and effectiveness. It’s a good pairing.
Perhaps you know someone who’s extremely original, always spouting new ideas but never getting any work done. Someone else might be very industrious, but seems almost locked into the same old ways of doing things, unable to see creative ways to move their craft forward in new ways. According to the above–mentioned definition of creativity, the fully creative person would be a healthy mixture of both qualities—entertaining original thoughts but also testing out their effects, constantly envisioning and revising.
Once we see both originality and effectiveness at play, we can expand our sense of what a creative person looks like or acts like—and how we ourselves might embrace and express our creativity. You don’t have to wear odd hats or tell funny stories. While many creative folks are involved in the arts, you don’t have to be a painter, writer, singer, or dancer to qualify. Where do you exercise originality—and apply it in effective ways? Do you practice creative listening, praying, parenting, grandparenting, or gardening? Where do you see new ideas enter your life in transformative ways?
Some scholars argue that anyone can be creative, but creativity is something you need to invest time and effort into. This “investment theory” identifies certain “resources”—intellectual abilities, knowledge, styles of thinking, personality, motivation, and environment—all of which seem to contribute to the development of creativity. But those same scholars also emphasize that your level of creativity does not depend on the amount of resources someone has, but on the decision to use them. That is, living a creative and abundant life may come down to permission. Will we give ourselves the go–ahead to be creative?
And, let’s be honest, in some corners of Christianity creativity is seen as suspect. We practice the old ways, while feeling threatened by new ideas. In this little book, I hope to help ease those fears, the case for a creativity that is both original and effective—engaging with the new things God is doing and applying them in ways that fulfill his purposes—in ourselves, our churches, our communities, and our world.
The Arts
We’ve already mentioned Jabal and Jubal, brothers who apparently used their creativity in very different ways. Jabal is called “the father of those who live in tents and raise livestock.” Jubal, we’re told, was “the father of all who play stringed instruments and pipes” (Genesis 4:20–21). We can assume that their “fatherhood” involved a certain degree of invention. You might already be imagining conversations around that campfire.
“Hey, bro, what did you do today?”
“I created some portable fencing that keeps goats from wandering off. And you?”
“I put holes in a hollow stick and made some cool sounds.”
We see a similar division of labor in our world today. We often assume that productive work (like goat–herding) isn’t creative and that creative work (like flute–playing) isn’t productive. But let’s drop those assumptions for a moment. The Bible shows us creativity in both types of work and expresses appreciation for both as well. Jabal and Jubal both have value.
As we survey biblical examples of creativity, let’s start with Jubal’s side of the big tent: the arts. We’ll include music, dance, theater, literature, and visual arts such as sculpture and fashion.
Music
Music streams throughout the stories of Scripture, and not only in the background. In fact, it emerges as a major force in the relationship between God and his people.
Think, for example, of when God parted the Red Sea to rescue Israel from their foes. What happened next? Moses led the people in a victory song. “The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation” (Exodus 15:2 ESV). Believers in Jesus today tend to talk a lot about salvation and are comfortable admitting their need for God’s strength, but “the LORD is … my song”? I’m not sure as many of us know what to do with that statement. Could it mean that God not only gives us reasons to sing, but also shows us how?
Generations after Moses’s song of deliverance, we see young David, “the sweet psalmist of Israel” (2 Samuel 23:1 ESV), playing his lyre in the royal court—before dodging a spear thrown by the manic king. David is credited with many of the biblical psalms, and he set up a robust musical tradition for both the Tabernacle and later the Temple. The very fact that, besides the songs woven throughout Scripture, we also have an entire book of the Bible dedicated to song testifies to the centrality of music in Israel’s worship.
The Psalms cover a broad range of subject matter, styles, and emotions. In the time of Israel’s captivity in Babylon, one lyricist wrote, “How can we sing the LORD’S song in a foreign land?” (Psalm 137:4 NASB). When they returned to their homeland, another wrote,
When the LORD restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dreamed.
Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Psalm 126:1–2
While today we don’t have access to original instrumental “scores” for the psalms and other biblical songs, they do describe a number of musical instruments used in Israel’s worship, including wind instruments (flutes and pipes), string instruments (lyres), and percussion (timbrels, cymbals). Many of the Psalms include headings that likely refer to musical styles, instrumentation, or specific tunes.
It seems fitting that the final psalm, calling for praise from a wide range of instruments—horns, strings, and cymbals—culminates with “Let everything that has breath praise the LORD” (Psalm 150:6). The exuberance of praise pushes us to find ever–new creative expressions of our gratitude and joy.
The New Testament has songs too, but they can be a bit harder for us to recognize. For example, scholars can tell from the rhythm of the Greek text that Philippians 2 contains a hymn about the humility and exaltation of Jesus. Did the music go downward and upward as the words described Jesus’s journey from heaven to earth and back to heaven? We can only guess. This was possibly one of the “hymns” mentioned in Ephesians 5:19 (along with “psalms” and “spiritual songs”) as part of church life and worship.
Then there’s the Book of Revelation, which has so many songs strewn throughout that it could practically be a Broadway musical. From “Holy, Holy, Holy” (4:8) to “Worthy is the Lamb” (5:12) to a kind of hallelujah chorus (19:1–8), in Revelation songs of praise seem to spontaneously erupt from the action.
Throughout the Bible, we find that music does much more than teach us important things about God. It gathers emotions and expresses them. It celebrates and mourns. It often finds a new kind of language for ideas that exceed reason.
Dance and Theater
Dance is another art form seen occasionally in Scripture. The victory song after the Red Sea crossing included dancing, and several psalms explicitly mention dance as part of praise. And in one of the Bible’s great marital spats, Michal complains about her husband, King David, dancing publicly (and without all his clothing) in a religious procession (2 Samuel 6:12–22).
We don’t often think of the Bible as a treasure trove for the theatrical arts, but, in a way, this form of creativity is present in Scripture as well. Joseph turned in a fine acting performance when he framed his little brother for stealing a silver cup (Genesis 44). How else could he determine if the other brothers had changed their attitude?
The story of Esther is full of theatrical dynamics, comically culminating in the bragging villain, Prince Haman, essentially ordering his own execution. No wonder it is often played out as a drama in synagogue Purim celebrations.
Job has a dramatic structure that would feel at home in (though much later) ancient Greek theater—with conversations among supernatural beings, messengers arriving to report tragedy, lengthy songs spouting philosophy, and a divine appearance at the end to set things right. Song of Songs also has a theatrical feel to it. If you find the book confusing to read it, try reading it like you might a screenplay. Once you figure out who says what, the pieces fall into place.
And when we reach the Prophets, we find God himself demanding theatrical performances from his prophets, sometimes requiring them to do extreme things in order to get God’s point across. Jeremiah wore a cattle yoke around his neck to symbolize Judah’s bondage to Babylon (Jeremiah 27:1–11). Ezekiel had perhaps the strangest performances—lying on his left side for over a year, then flipping to his right side for forty more days (Ezekiel 4:4–8); then shaving his beard with a sword measuring out the hair, burning some, scattering some, and preserving some (Ezekiel 5:1–4). Hosea’s creative prophecy took over his family life. He was asked to marry a prostitute (who then left him) as an image of God’s relationship with a fickle Israel (Hosea 1:2–3). Those actions are presented not as creative brainstorms from artsy communicators, but as God–guided object lessons.
Visual Arts
As far as the visual arts are concerned, the Israelites were at home in the highly visual world of their ancient contemporaries. The second commandment forbade “graven images” of God, which might seem to put a damper on artistic representations in general. Today, archaeologists find lots of statues and amulets from neighboring cultures, but not much from Israel.
We do read, however, of Moses fashioning a bronze serpent and hoisting it so the people might find healing during a plague (Numbers 21:4–9). Two craftsmen, Bezalel and Oholiab, were commissioned to create worship utensils for the Tabernacle (Exodus 31:1–11). Later, artistic teams were commissioned to do the same for the Temple.
Communication and Literature
The Bible includes many different kinds of literature: for example, poems, proverbs, and parables. Dreams and visions provide exceptional imagery. Ecclesiastes is a poetic essay. Hebrews seems to be a sermon. Even the histories and epistles that seem rather straightforward—more about simple communication than artistry—demonstrate the highest kind of literary craftsmanship. Luke’s account of the shipwreck in Acts 27 has been hailed as one of the greatest pieces of ancient maritime prose. Ruth has an intricate construction that still resonates with readers thousands of years after its composition.
The prophet Nathan had a difficult message for King David—he could not hide his sin from God. David had stolen the wife of one of his soldiers and arranged to have that soldier killed. In the king’s frame of mind, a direct accusation might have met with denial or even violence. So instead, the prophet told a story about a rich man who stole and killed a beloved lamb. David demanded swift justice against that wicked man.
The prophet said simply, “You are the man.”
The accusation got through. The king acknowledged his sin and repented (2 Samuel 12:1–14).
This was an early use of parable, a teaching method which would later be employed to great effect by Jesus. We get the word parable from a Greek word meaning “thrown alongside.” That image gives us a good way to think about this creative device—and perhaps creative expression in general. When a direct approach would be difficult and possibly dangerous, Nathan threw a similar story alongside reality. The parallel account enabled David to see his own actions, as if in a mirror.
In most of his parables, Jesus taught about “the kingdom of God.” Whether viewed as a future promise, present reality, or both, God’s kingdom certainly involves elements that are hard for mere mortals to understand. But we can grasp some of these concepts, at least to some degree, when a story is “thrown alongside” the divine reality. For instance, we might believe in our heads that God loves us, even when we go astray—but to hear the parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11–32) and to imagine the embrace between the patient father and his repentant boy is to grasp that reality in a powerfully emotional way.
Some parables teach us more than we expect. We easily read the parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25–37) as an exhortation to help those in need. But when we consider the social status of the Samaritan and the two passersby, we get a surprising and perhaps subversive take on the story: the true heroes of our world may be those we least expect.
Business and Leadership
A dream turned out to be Joseph’s “Get Out of Jail Free” card. The mighty Pharaoh had a vision he could not fathom—fat and scrawny cows coming up out of the Nile River. When the wisest minds of Egypt had no clue what the dream might mean, Pharaoh turned to his visionary Hebrew prisoner. Joseph interpreted the dream—years of plenty followed by famine—but he did something else, too. He charted a course of action for the country.
“Let Pharaoh appoint commissioners over the land to take a fifth of the harvest of Egypt during the seven years of abundance… . This food should be held in reserve for the country, to be used during the seven years of famine that will come upon Egypt, so that the country may not be ruined by the famine” (Genesis 41:34, 36).
Part of his proposal included appointing a “discerning and wise man” who would be “in charge of the land of Egypt” (v. 33). Pharaoh’s choice turned out to be Joseph himself. And why not? He had already shown remarkable ingenuity by not only in reading the dream but also in devising a clever crisis management plan.
Businesspeople recognize that pattern. Often a visionary leader is hailed as a highly creative thinker, but the whole company knows there are assistants and middle managers who turn those visions into workable plans. It’s the “effective” kind of creativity. Paired with the originality of visionary thinking, pragmatic implementation can have great results.
We see another example of effective creativity in the Bible in wise advice from an in–law. After God’s deliverance from Egypt, Moses found himself the solitary leader of a vast nation. People were asking him to solve all their interpersonal disputes, and it was wearing him out. His wife’s father saw this and offered a creative solution.
“The work is too heavy for you; you cannot handle it alone… . But select capable men from all the people—men who fear God, trustworthy men who hate dishonest gain—and appoint them as officials over thousands, hundreds, fifties and tens. Have them serve as judges for the people at all times, but have them bring every difficult case to you; the simple cases they can decide themselves. That will make your load lighter, because they will share it with you. If you do this and God so commands, you will be able to stand the strain, and all these people will go home satisfied” (Exodus 18:18, 21–23).
That is creative leadership. We see a similar idea enacted by the apostles when they chose seven deacons to share the ministry. “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait on tables” (Acts 6:2). Of course, there’s nothing wrong with waiting on tables, but there’s effective creativity in devising a system that assigns tasks to those who do them best.
The war stories of the Old Testament give us some examples of creativity in military strategy. The Israelites often find themselves in the role of the underdog, making it necessary to use their wits to withstand much more powerful foes. Perhaps the best example is seen in the story of Gideon, who had to fight a massive invasion with an army God had mysteriously whittled down to just 300. What can 300 soldiers do that 30,000 can’t? That was Gideon’s problem, and God answered it with his own creativity.
After surrounding the enemy camp at night, carrying torches hidden inside pitchers and with trumpets at their sides, Gideon’s special–ops force suddenly blew the trumpets, smashed the jars, and shouted. Imagine the shock of the enemy army, jolted from sleep with sudden light and sound. In their stupor, they fought each other (Judges 7:22).
In other cases, people found creative alternatives to violence. To be able to build the wall of Jerusalem amid heavy opposition, Nehemiah had his construction crew carry swords to deter vandals (Nehemiah 4:16–18). Before he became king, David had the opportunity to assassinate the king who was hunting him down, but instead he cut off the corner of the king’s robe—hoping this would cool the king’s anger. It worked, for a while at least (1 Samuel 24). Later, while camping in hostile territory, David pretended to be insane so he would not pose a threat (1 Samuel 21:10–15).
An extravagant peace–seeking mission was launched by Abigail after her surly husband had offended David and his wandering army. Abigail offered the hospitality her husband had refused, along with a soothing speech and many compliments. Violence was averted through her creative initiative (1 Samuel 25).
Of course, in any discussion of creative leadership, we must consider the teaching and example of Jesus. Various writers and preachers have riffed on his “leadership principles,” but some of them seem to be squeezing Jesus into their own principles. Yes, Jesus talked about counting the cost before beginning a building project—a pithy leadership principle—but this was in the context of a rather outrageous demand: “In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples” (Luke 14:33). Yes, there was wisdom in the organization of concentric circles of Jesus’s followers—seventy sent out on a mission trip, twelve who traveled with Jesus, and three in the inner circle—but Jesus dealt with everyone uniquely and directly no matter where they were on the discipleship chart. More than anything else, the creative leadership of Jesus seems improvisational. In each moment he responded to the needs of those in front of him. These moments were both original and effective. He wasn’t creating poems or paintings, but insights, connections, transformations.
And that’s the model for us, too, whether we’re Jabal or Jubal, whether we’re using our creativity to play or to work. In any situation, as we “keep in step with the Spirit” (Galatians 5:25), let us embrace our calling to “sing a new song” (Psalm 33:3) and to “count the cost” (Luke 14:28)—our calling to be both visionary and productive, as well as original and effective in meeting the challenges of each moment.
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