Artists and musicians, woodworkers and designers—all use their skills in worship of the Giver of all.

Will you look at a painting with me? Trace the crown of thorns, the rivering blood, the cross-shaped cut. And what do you see inside Jesus’ eye? It’s people! Now, why would the artist—oh, of course! During his passion, Jesus’ mind was on the people he passionately loved: his mother, his disciples, you, me.

So much said without a single word.

This painter* is a creator who received her gift from the Creator himself. In Exodus, Moses tells us about another creator, a man named Bezalel. “See, I have chosen Bezalel . . .” God tells Moses, “and I have filled him with the Spirit of God . . . with all kinds of skills—to make artistic designs . . . to engage in all kinds of crafts” (Exodus 31:2-5).

God gifted Bezalel, his assistant Oholiab, and a whole team of artisans to build and fill the tabernacle, Israel’s worship space. Imagine it! Blue, purple, and scarlet linen curtains with cherubim woven in. An acacia ark of the covenant overlaid with gold. Priestly garments tasseled with pomegranates and golden bells that jingled when they walked. Everywhere you looked: image, symbols, echoes of divine design, glimmers of glory.

Yes, our God is a visual artist. He’s also a musician. The whole idea is his—the pitches and chords, staccatos and slurs. He gifted a musician named Jubal, who may have conducted the first chamber ensemble (Genesis 4:21), and he gifted David, Asaph, and others to create a hymnal we call the book of Psalms.

Our God is also a storyteller. He tells the history of his people, his Son, and the early church in narratives filled with drama and detail. Jesus himself told stories too. He often preached in parables, some so nuanced they baffled his own disciples.

Our Creator continues to gift creators for his church today. You know who they are. The tenor whose solo soars to the rafters. The carpenter who builds an altar with quartersawn oak. The fabric artist who dares to stitch that green to that purple in the paraments. The cellist whose deep thrumming arpeggios settle the congregation, even quieting the babies. The organists and pianists, the videographers and graphic designers, the altar flower arrangers and the Christmas tree decorators.

And how about the poet in the pulpit? The pastor who knows how to pace a story, who drops the perfect metaphor into the fifth paragraph, who tells an ancient truth with a new turn of phrase so beautiful, so effective, it startles you.

These are today’s Bezalels, using creativity from the Creator himself to share the Word—sometimes without words—to plant and water the gospel in our minds and hearts.

*The creator of this oil painting, O Sacred Head, Now Wounded, is Hannah Christensen, a student at Martin Luther College, New Ulm, Minn., and a member of St. Paul, St. James, Minn.

Author: Laurie Gauger-Hested
Volume 113, Number 06
Issue: June 2026