City on A Hill

The book Asherel and I are reading for History is about a boy from the middle ages who is drawn to an old mapmaker, a man that can create magic with his artistic talent. When the boy wants to be taught, the mapmaker cautions him that not only must he have a great gift, but he must have a special kind of courage.

As an artist, I understood instantly what he was saying, though I suppose most people would not think of artists as needing courage. It is not as though the brush is a dangerous weapon, or the canvas a large steep hill that he must somehow snowboard down without skill or a helmet. Still, every time an artist steps before a blank canvas and has the audacity to put the first mark of his creation, there is a moment of panic. What if I cannot do it, what if what I create is a disaster, what if someone looks at it and laughs, or worse, scorns it?

A true artist bares his soul with every piece of art. His character is vulnerable and on display. His vision of the world is now available for ripping apart by the inevitable critics. It is very painful for an artist in any field to see his "baby" massacred and derided. It really does take courage to first dare to reveal his soul, and then to hear the verdicts of those who understand what he has revealed.

This is not only true for artists. To varying degrees it is true for everyone, I think. I know it is true for Christians. We are told that we are salt and light, that we are a "shining city on a hill" where all can see us, and weigh us in the balance. If we are hypocrites, the world sees that. If we are petty, or jealous, or angry, or ungenerous.... the world is watching and ready to condemn. It is painfully true that we all are imperfect and most of our lives will not shine forth like a masterpiece, but there is no doubt that a masterpiece should be our goal. It is a frightening burden, but one we don't have to carry alone.

Matthew 5:14
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden.