I am exceedingly grateful to the Lord Jesus for Calvin Seerveld.
Many years ago, there came a season in my life when a hunger to better understand the integration of my vocation as an artist within the broader framework of Reformed biblical theology became the focus of much of my reading, study, and thought. A stack of books soon accumulated in my home—taller than my favorite armchair (I know this because that is where they were kept, much to my wife’s chagrin)—and I worked through them one by one. However much of an eyesore it was to her tidy housekeeping, she and I often look back on “the time of that tall bookstack” as a special work of God, a leading of the Spirit to answer questions I had long carried, unsure if Christians had ever truly addressed them.
Before that season, I often felt frustrated, alone, or both, unable to find believers in the arts—or even those adjacent to the arts—who could speak with depth and wisdom on matters I believed Christians, of all people, should care deeply about. I kept asking God for guidance as I searched, and slowly the tide began to turn. The waters grew deeper—first a little, then more—as God placed before me one person here, another there, like the crumbs of a Grimm’s tale, marking the path forward.
Calvin G. Seerveld was one such crumb. At first, he appeared only as a passing mention or a brief reference in what I was reading. Yet after encountering his name repeatedly in various books and essays on art and faith, I could not help but seek out his own work. And oh, how exceedingly grateful I am for Cal! Like fresh, life-giving water springing from a crack in an otherwise dry lakebed, Bearing Fresh Olive Leaves hummed and gushed with idiosyncrasy, invention, philosophical depth, biblical clarity, and—most of all—biblical seriousness. I was drawn in and nourished by this work immediately.
I finished galvanized, refreshed, and hungry for more. Rainbows for a Fallen World came next, opening the way to a landslide of further reading and reflection on Cal’s writings. As I drank deeply from the wealth of insight he offered on so many fronts, I became increasingly perplexed by another vacuum. As a conservative Reformed Christian, I could not understand why such a substantial and astute thinker was not more widely read, studied, or acknowledged by pastors and theologians. Cal’s conviction, courage, and deep care for the Holy Scriptures are the foundation of all his work. His pioneering contributions in philosophy, the arts, and aesthetics are remarkable in themselves, yet they also extend into a broad range of subjects with theological implications for ministry, Christian living, community formation, and mission.
For me, Cal’s work has provided wide breathing room to search more deeply into what the Lord delights to conceal (Proverbs 25:2). While many have yet to notice what the Lord has produced through this man, I praise God for those who have labored to bring forth and preserve his writings. To them, too, a debt of gratitude is owed. I pray and labor to do my part, trusting that perhaps his truest audience is still in the future—our future—waiting for those of us who work the fields beneath the Lordship of Christ in preparation for such a time.
It is now only a few days since Cal’s passing, and there remains much work to be done in honoring his legacy—a legacy that blessed so many, especially from the late 1970s through the 2000s, and particularly in the realm of art and theology. While those honorific writings will surely come, I want to suggest that the most fitting tribute would come from the practitioners of the arts themselves.
I believe Cal did not see enough excellence from Christian makers during his lifetime. In my estimation, we have yet to witness artists and makers dig deeply enough into his thought and produce works that truly resonate with his insights—works shaped by his extrapolation and exploration of the Scriptures (in other words, with God’s ideas). Far too many Christian artists and makers have drifted into secular syncretism, liberal theology, or a broad and compromising ecumenism, resulting in works that are egalitarian, stillborn, sentimental, and compromised—often paling even beside the output of the average secular MFA graduate at any number of universities. Not that secularism is the standard—it is not. I know this firsthand from my seventeen years as a professor at the top-ranked public art university in the country before co-founding the Maker Institute of Studio Art and Theology.
I pray (and ask you to join me) for a generation of artists and makers committed to a high standard of intellectual rigor, deep reading, and unwavering fidelity to the Scriptures—for the Lord is worthy of nothing less. And what better way to honor Cal than to match his panache for thinking and writing with biblically informed, seriously minded, and seriously skilled making? We need artists and makers who will repent of seeking secular approval, who will trust the Bible, obey God, and stand as unmistakably Christian men and women, digging into the treasure trove of Calvin Seerveld’s works. There are still more fresh olive leaves to bear—and much biblical fruit to come.
I am also grateful to the Lord for Cal’s generosity. He truly had a heart to love well in the gracious way the Lord Jesus commanded.
Two years ago, my colleague at the Maker Institute, Cody Godwin, and I had the pleasure of corresponding with Cal by email. In those exchanges, he shared with us both his heart condition and the reality of his limited time on earth. We had not known one another before then, but Cody and I wanted to honor him by sharing our plans for the launch of the Institute and by telling him of the significant influence his work had on this endeavor. We also told him of our hopes to someday name a Christian art and design museum after him, and to establish a center in his name—the Seerveld Center for Christian Art and Aesthetics.
He replied:
“I would be honoured to have you use my name, God willing, with your projected Center for Aesthetics and a Contemporary Art Museum. You probably know that ‘Seerveld’ comes from a Huguenot ‘place name’ (des herren veld) of serfs who lived down below the Lord’s Manor, which I have taken to heart to mean ‘Seerveld’ is ‘a field of the Lord’ to be cultivated as if it were a plot belonging to the Almighty LORD revealed in Jesus Christ.”
While Cal was not able to see the yet-to-be-launched museum and center, I am grateful he knew that a quote from Rainbows for the Fallen World: Aesthetic Life and Artistic Task had inspired our Institute’s logo—a burning bush shield. By God’s grace, the Institute is now entering its second year, with a second class of incoming fellows from across the United States and around the world who will study Cal’s works in the core curriculum alongside others. The quote reads:
“All things are transparent manifestations of His power and wisdom. It is the very nature of creation that the whole world is like a burning bush, even though we walk around all the time with our shoes on.”
While all of this was a particular blessing to me, what I most want to share is that his correspondence radiated an abundance of love, care, and time—time he gave even when he knew his own was short. He still gave it freely, serving and loving from a hospital bed, writing to strangers like Cody and me with promises of prayer and encouragement, and sharing years of Scriptural reflections on the Psalms and Ecclesiastes for a then-unpublished manuscript, God Picks Up the Pieces. He proudly told us he had chosen its cover and was glad to have done so before his passing.
Cal worked to the very end to love the Lord and his neighbor with all his heart, soul, and strength. We need more men like Cal—men who mature as saints and, having spent their lives poured out in service to Christ, stand ready to deliver messages of hope and encouragement in the Lord to the next generation.
As I write, I am still processing my feelings about Cal. It is hard to wrap my mind around his passing. To the very end, his cup was filled to overflowing. It is fitting of the Lord Jesus to fill a man beyond his time and strength, for there is still so much kingdom work to be done—so many more who need to take hold of Christ and never let go.
Cal ran the race well, leaving us treasure troves of riches to search out. What would it look like for multiple generations to honor Christ with their gifts and abilities, laboring faithfully and with excellence to the glory of God as Cal did? Again, I ask: what would it look like for us, as men and women in Christ, to know who we are, and to love as Cal loved—with gratitude and joy, sacrifice and encouragement?
The Lord gets the glory for Cal’s gifts and life, and I trust there will be others raised up with the same depth of calling and gifting. I pray you will obey, lay down your life, and answer the call. And I pray the same for myself—that by God’s grace I may do my part.
There is much more I could share about Cal’s impact on my life, but for the purpose of this essay, I want to leave you with his final words from an email to Cody and another to myself. I believe they capture his generous, caring heart so well. They are words fitting for us all, because the best way to honor our brother Cal is to keep building. (Cal shared this photo with his wife, Ines, and Patmos as well.)
To Cody:
“For now, I send deep thanks for your bright and encouraging communication. I shall know how to pray for you (remembering Patmos, which lasted 10 years, 1969-1979, Chicago & Toronto). Cleaning out my wife’s desk, I found the photo I’ll append to this email which I took in1978; she was taken from this world 1.5 years ago, but still inhabits my consciousness. May your wife bear a healthy child, and may our Lord bless you and your family with safety and fruitfulness.
In gratefulness and Christian love,
Cal Seerveld.”
And to myself:
“Receiving your letters has been a lovely, energizing surprise. I trust you will carry on, and we should stay in touch as time permits. I shall pray regularly for you, for your families, and the communal Ark-Building.
For now, cheerful greetings and thankfulness,
Cal Seerveld.”
More than anything else, seeing a faithful man run the race well has meant as much to me—if not more—than his written works, though those works cannot be separated from him, nor from the reason I can even write this today. Cal did not seek secular approval or worldly success. What a gift! Thank You, Lord, for Cal Seerveld—and thank You for what You will yet do through his work.