How Do the Arts Shape Our Souls?

The Curious Pilgrim
Series: Arts That Shape Our Souls
Monday, August 17, 2026

“Be still, and know that I am God.” — Psalm 46:10

How do the arts shape our souls?

Psalm 46:10 tells us to be still and know that God is God. I have discovered that when I become still enough to listen, God can make God’s presence known in many different ways.

Sometimes through Scripture.

Sometimes through music.

Sometimes through a painting, a poem, or a live performance.

And sometimes through a movie.

The first movie I remember seeing was Jailhouse Rock, starring Elvis Presley. I don’t remember very much about it now, so I can’t really say that it shaped my soul.

But other movies certainly have.

Tom Hanks has played characters who have challenged me. Most of us remember Forrest Gump. I also remember his portrayal of Andrew Beckett in Philadelphia. Those characters caused me to think about people, prejudice, suffering, dignity, love, and the way we treat one another.

Sally Field is another actor whose work has challenged me. She played Forrest Gump’s mother. She was M’Lynn, Shelby’s mother, in Steel Magnolias.

But there is another Sally Field movie that has remained with me for years: Places in the Heart.

Field plays Edna Spalding, a woman whose life is suddenly turned upside down when her husband, Royce, the local sheriff, is accidentally shot and killed by a drunken Black teenager named Wylie. Wylie is then killed by a white lynch mob, who drag his body through town.

Edna is left with two children and a farm she may lose.

A Black drifter comes along and helps her. A blind drifter and bitter war veteran also becomes part of the household. Edna discovers that there isn’t enough money to pay the mortgage, and she desperately needs to bring in the first bale of cotton so she can win the prize money and save the farm.

Meanwhile, the lives of the people around her are coming apart in other ways. Edna’s sister discovers that her husband is having an affair. The Black drifter who has helped Edna is attacked by the Ku Klux Klan.

Racism.

Violence.

Death.

Betrayal.

Poverty.

Fear.

Grief.

Broken relationships.

It is the good, the bad, and the ugly of human existence.

Then comes the final scene.

We are in church.

The choir is singing. First Corinthians 13 is being read. Holy Communion is being shared.

But something remarkable is happening.

The living and the dead are all there together.

Edna is there.

Royce is there.

Wylie is there.

Edna hands Communion to her husband, Royce. Royce hands it to Wylie—the young man who accidentally shot and killed him.

And they pass the Peace of God.

That scene has shaped my soul.

Why?

Because I have been in the church all my life.

I became a pastor at fifteen and was ordained at sixteen. Through all those years, I have seen the good, the bad, and the ugly in real life. Churches are made up of human beings, and human beings can love one another deeply. We can also disappoint, hurt, misunderstand, and wound one another.

Yet there is something that happens when we gather around what I simply call the Table.

Some call it the altar.

We call what happens there the Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, or the Eucharist.

Whatever name we use, there is something about gathering there together.

In seminary, I learned to call it mystery.

God is there.

I cannot explain it completely. Perhaps I am not supposed to.

I encounter God there in a way that is different from my ordinary daily experiences.

Yet God is not confined to the Table.

God is always with us.

God promised to be with us.

And God is.

That brings me back to the arts.

God speaks through the gifts of other people.

Someone makes a movie.

Someone writes a poem.

Someone performs on a stage.

Someone creates a painting.

Someone writes a story.

Someone composes a piece of music.

Someone sings a song.

And through their creativity, something reaches into us and touches a place that ordinary words sometimes cannot reach.

It makes us think.

It makes us question.

It makes us feel.

Sometimes it makes us uncomfortable.

Sometimes it makes us weep.

Sometimes it gives us hope.

For me, that closing scene in Places in the Heart does all of those things.

Victim and offender are at the same Table.

Black and white are at the same Table.

The living and the dead are at the same Table.

The broken are at the Table.

And somehow, mysteriously, there is peace.

Perhaps that is why the scene continues to speak to me.

It gives me hope.

It reminds me that the brokenness we see around us does not have to have the final word.

Hatred does not have to have the final word.

Violence does not have to have the final word.

Death does not have to have the final word.

God’s grace is greater.

“Be still, and know that I am God.”

Sometimes we become still in a church.

Sometimes we become still before a painting.

Sometimes we become still while listening to music.

And sometimes we become still while watching a movie—and suddenly something on that screen reaches deep inside us and speaks to our soul.

Thank you, God, for the gifts you give to those who make movies, write poetry, act in live productions, create works of art, tell stories, and compose music.

Thank you for using their gifts to challenge us.

Thank you for giving us hope.

And thank you for being with us.

What movie, song, poem, book, painting, or other work of art has shaped your soul?

Come sit on the porch for a while. There is always room for another curious pilgrim.