Theology: an "unnecessary" blessing

I attended the first theology class of my graduate career today, and managed to make myself look a bit of a tool. We were discussing the "art" of theology, a conversation that began with us volunteering things we think of when we think of art. My contribution was "unnecessary." Now really, I'm not such a Philistine as that. I didn't mean unnecessary to a happy life or a great society or a productive struggle, or anything, really. But surely I'm not the first to note (though I didn't say it this well) that art is an improved, running-over, just plain better version of everyday processes that are necessary to sustain life. You need to have sound: the world produces it, but if that sound is music, that's a gift. We need to move, but dance is a grace. You need words, but not fiction or poetry; clothing, but not style; objects, but not beautiful ones; and on and on. Art is a gift for the doer and the consumer precisely because it represents an excess of talent and resources compared to those needed for the basic, everyday versions of the processes that art is. I don't think that statement contradicts the principle that some form of creative expression or enjoyment of beauty might indeed be necessary to sustain any form of life with dignity. In fact, it honors the art if you recognize that you could, theoretically, have done it prosaically, but that skill and ability and grace led you to do it otherwise.

Look how this applies to theology. We need a form of meaning; our minds will make one up for the world whether we choose it or not. Some of these are that we direct every scrap of our own fate, so that if something terrible happens to us we're in some way to blame; or that random chance alone governs our lives and no good can be expected without "luck"; or that the greatest purpose life can offer is to make lots of money. Theology is the beautifully created result of an artistically performed version of this rude process. We use reason and the Scriptures and other people and personal experience to craft an understanding of the world that can be more nuanced and complete than the screeching produced by those who don't care about instruments or music. As in art, you don't need to be a theological professional to come up with something that brings great satisfaction to others. For resources, we start with belief in God--the best and only clay for sculpting a frame of meaning that I can imagine.

What a grace that we have that resource, and isn't it true that grace is always unnecessary? It needs to be excessive, more-than, surprising, so we recognize it not as everyday happenstance, but as the work of God.