The Spirit At Work
Artists, scholars, and theologians explore the Holy Spirit’s distinctive presence in the interplay of art and theology.
Review by Joy Moore
The Holy Spirit is the least discussed person of the Trinity, in part because Scripture’s records of the Spirit are complex, elusive, and surprising. Even so, it is to our detriment to shy away from the Spirit’s enigmatic nature, for the Spirit’s abounding activity and presence flow forth from the Godhead in myriad ways. The sixteen essayists featured in Naming the Spirit don’t shy away in the least; they labor to identify specific aspects of the Holy Spirit in order to see how the Spirit is alive in art and artmaking. None of these writers nor the collection’s editors waste time justifying their project. Instead, they simply “get on with the business” of studying theology through art and art through theology, contributing to the rich interplay of the two.
With some variation, each essay in the collection accomplishes two tasks: it first names and discusses a specific aspect of the Holy Spirit’s life and work, then explores how such activity connects with, is illumined by, or is manifested within a work of art. These artworks include, among others, an early Syrian Christian illuminated manuscript, contemporary installation work by Icelandic-Danish artist Olafur Eliasson, the films of Terrence Malick, Native art, African American spirituals, a poem by Ross Gay, and landscape art. In a refreshing approach, the artworks are not mere illustrations but centers of conversation in the relationship between art and theology. Encountering a theology of the Holy Spirit in conversation with particular works allows readers to concretely engage with the movements and person of the Spirit.
The collection opens with Steve Guthrie’s discussion of the Holy Spirit as Pneuma, saying, “All that lives [lives] by the Breath of God.” This everywhere, all-encompassing God is the God of “mystery and knowledge,” Guthrie says, preparing readers for the revelation and limitations that come in attempting to understand the Spirit. Notably, this essay introduces the theme of reciprocity: the Spirit gives breath and the capacity to breathe, and we exhale in worship and in “answering breath.” In the life of the Spirit, this involves “allowing breath to become shared dwelling,” a theme developed with insight and artistic sensitivity in a subsequent piece. Fittingly, that chapter is followed by one exploring the Holy Spirit’s gift of breadth, of wide spaces in which to move freely and in community.
Indeed, freedom is communal, several writers posit, and defined by respect for others and by interdependency, rather than a singular will to act for one’s own self. To wit, Jennifer A. Craft and W. David O. Taylor, in considering landscape architecture and healthy ecosystems of diverse plants, offer that “making a space for particularity to flourish . . . is intimately tied up in the expression of diversity . . . that impose[s] limits on freedom even as it empowers the expression of one’s own particularity.” As several authors note, this respect for otherness arises from the Holy Spirit’s own activity. One’s selfhood is not lost in one’s yes to God, Chelle Stearns says, for “the Spirit . . . honors the capacity of human flesh and material existence to participate in and with God in an unexpected mutuality.”
This presents a contradictory tension: as one becomes more particular, shouldn’t one be less uniform? Here again, however, several writers find that the Spirit refuses such simple oppositions. Instead, they present examples in Scripture (such as Pentecost) and in artworks wherein multiple identities are connected and bonds forged without losing their distinctiveness. In the conjoining, a new, third reality is made. Take, for instance, Amy Whisenand Krall’s reveling in the song, “Hope for Resolution,” which braids together “Of the Father’s Love Begotten,” an ancient plainsong chant, and “Thula Sizwe,” a South African protest song. Each retains its characteristics of style, language, and recognizable music, even as their integration creates something new. The ability of a listener to hear this work as two distinct pieces in a cohesive, surprising unity animates one’s understanding of the work the Spirit does among us. The Spirit, Craft and Taylor identify, “frees the many to be in right relationship to each other,” as “particularity is never an end in itself [but] for the sake of an ecology of right relatedness.” Agreeing with this vision of the Spirit’s work, Erin Shaw and Taylor Worley offer insight into the interconnectedness of things, advancing a view of shalom as, “‘communal, holistic, and tangible. There is no private or partial shalom. All must have shalom or no one has shalom.’”
To disrupt for the sake of new sight—to take away in order to give—is another kind of reciprocity that fits the surprising movements of the Holy Spirit.
Image of Beauty installation, from Eliasson’s website.
Among the essays I most admired was Cristina Carnes Ananias’s discussion of illumination as she sets Basil of Caesarea’s text On the Holy Spirit beside Olafur Eliasson’s visual installation, Beauty. I love installation art, like Eliasson’s, that shapes ordinary materials to evoke wonder, and I appreciated Ananias’s guidance, helping us imagine light’s absence and the transformation of its presence by situating the artwork in relation to Basil’s theology, Minimalism, and the Light and Space art movements. One cannot perceive without light: to perceive God, Basil says, requires the illumination of the Holy Spirit. And without the spotlight in Eliasson’s Beauty, one would feel only mist in the museum’s dark room, and miss the rainbow formed when light is cast upon it. Such an artwork takes light and shadow out of a two-dimensional frame and into the viewer’s surroundings, “disrupting normative experiences in order to bring new vision.”
To disrupt for the sake of new sight—to take away in order to give—is another kind of reciprocity that fits the surprising movements of the Holy Spirit. So often in life and in art, we are unsettled, disrupted, confronted; and we are also comforted, tended, lightened. Because life holds experiences that take the ground out from under us, we need art that honors that shattering and art that admits the graces, too. Such art—insofar as it is honest to suffering and to the persistence of life—can signal the life of the Spirit’s presence in this world amid violence and transgression, unanswered questions, and everyday irrepressible beauties.
The editors acknowledge the “precarious territory” of the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, including our common nebulous usage of the words spirit and spiritual, and the Bible’s own ambiguity about the Holy Spirit that has caused the church to struggle to articulate the Spirit’s “unique personhood” and “distinctive agency.” Further still, how were the writers to identify the work of the Holy Spirit in an artwork—as inspiration, illumination, inherent in—even if the artist had no intentional engagement with God?
Yet these risks prove, to this reader, worth taking. They are generative for the ongoing conversations between theology and the arts. The writers gain a reader’s trust through their close study of Scriptures and their close attention to the form and vision of an artwork without prescribing doctrinal interpretations. In doing so, they invite readers to seek with them and to extend this conversation. Indeed, my desire to share with others the insights discovered in this collection suggests the continued, outflowing work of the Holy Spirit. In being given, I want to give.
Like any “kaleidoscopic vision of the Spirit’s comprehensive work in the world” in which “nothing is untouched by the Spirit’s work,” this collection offers theological and artistic prisms through which to attend to the everyday workings of the Spirit and to artworks made by other humans. Readers may find an increased longing for the new creations and healthy flourishing that come from individuality illumined within larger unity and from freedom that welcomes limits in order to see all live as themselves—toward the shalom that is not private or partial, but is for all.
Joy Moore teaches undergraduate writing and interdisciplinary courses in Jackson, Tennessee. Her work has appeared in The Southern Review, Comment, Best Spiritual Literature, 32 Poems, Ecotone, and Prairie Schooner, where she won a Glenna Luschei Award.
Naming the Spirit edited by W. David O. Taylor and Daniel Train was published by InterVarsity Press on September 2, 2025. You can purchase your own copy here.
