By Byron Atuhairwe
Sweet or sad stories, literature, movies, and songs stir me up; other times they leave me teary, but one thing they never do is leave me the same.
Yet among all stories, no single story has greatly stirred my affections like the Gospel, the story of the Creator of the universe, in his breathtaking beauty, leaving all his glory to die for sinners like me.
Humbling,
In his Narnia characters, C.S. Lewis demonstrates God’s varied world through which he communicates Himself. As a dance artist, I create to join creation in what must be done, giving back glory to God. I come up with moves and concepts, plotlines to imitate an eternal God, who imagined and saved his people before time began. I create while acknowledging that all good gifts come from him, ultimately, as opportunities to exult in him.
My storytelling ought to honor what he has revealed, communicating his excellences in ways that show there is no life apart from the supernatural source. Through Christ’s death, I am finally able to also show what God can do with an intellect and body consecrated to him.
How I create
Growing in my knowledge of Christ has liberated my imagination over time, and I often find it baffling what God can do through a consecrated creative.
God always owns the creative blueprints; he once asked Job where he was when he laid the foundations of the earth (Job 38:4-7), so specifically, all art is God’s. Most of us creatives prefer to think of ourselves as “grand,” but stories like these, including Nebuchadnezzar’s humbling, must bring me to my knees, dependent on God for both the work and the results.
Then in Exodus, Bezalel and Oholiab are filled with the spirit of God, yet they are also given ability and intelligence with knowledge and all craftsmanship. Of course God’s redemptive plan to dwell with Israel was never centered on their talents, yet their gifts and competencies were not unnecessary either. Oholiab didn’t ultimately come up with the designs; God did, through him. Submitted creativity was all he had.
Jesus’s descending to live among us as God also teaches me to create from a place of surrender and dependence, lest my creativity descend into people-pleasing and self-promotion idolatry.
In 2024, for example, I staged a theatrical dance production at the National Theater called “Redeemed—Christ my righteousness”.” It was inspired by both Zechariah 3—the story of Joshua the high priest in the presence of God and his accuser, Satan—plus the confessions of St. Augustine.
As a creative I have all the material, motivation, end goal, and inspiration I need to create. If only I could keep God central; I’m learning that we don’t have to try and look like the world, scrapping hopeless stories from the fallen world that point nowhere. We have a spectacular gospel story that beats them all yet fulfills them all. For example, the highlight in many of my shows is often dancing to poems, which I sometimes discern are less distracting than melodies.
Image by Quang Nguyen Vinh/pexels.com
I am also part of an artist community (Clay Dance) that’s increasingly becoming intentional about growing artists in their faith, reminding each other that we belong to God before we belong to a human audience. He is our identity; we tell each other this before sessions, Christ before the choreography. We identify him before we perform.
This is important, because in my field I have also met dance teachers who only care about “moves” more than “God’s moves” in my heart. Yet in my practice, it is from these convictions that I swing and turn, in awe of Christ, who saved me and gives me more than what I can ever get, on stage.
The writer is a dance artist with Clay Dance and is part of the Bukoto Faith and Work Cohort—sign up for their upcoming Faith and Work six-week session here.
