This article was originally published on the G.O.D. International website on October 1, 2018. It’s republished here with permission from the author, Institute for G.O.D. Alumni Kelly Jobe.

Let me begin with this:
I like art.

Like most people, I took up photography because I enjoyed taking pictures of my friends or things I found interesting. It became an outlet of creativity for me and a way of documenting memories. By the time I entered college, it had even turned into a small side income.

When I started studying the Bible, I had no idea how much my theology would affect the way that I thought about photography. I was specifically challenged by one of my Bible teachers, Gregg Garner, to think critically about how photography could be done in an ethical way.

Questions I asked when taking photos:

Could photography become idolatrous?
When I looked through my camera lens, what was the end game of clicking that button?

I found myself struggling with even more ethical dilemmas when I began capturing images in the third world.

Is it permissible to take photos of people without their consent?
Does it benefit this nameless child when I take his picture?

In the midst of abject poverty, are my thoughts really on the aesthetics of color and lighting?

There’s something about putting a lens between yourself and other people that somehow lessens the impact.

The devastation of people’s suffering is softened when you’re thinking about how to best frame it in a lens. In reality, no frame will do, because the scene shouldn’t exist. These tensions have caused me to put my camera down for different seasons of my life. I don’t ever want to approach something that I do mindlessly, without considering what the Bible has to say about it.

“The devastation of people’s suffering is softened when you’re thinking about how to best frame it in a lens. In reality, no frame will do, because the scene shouldn’t exist.”

And while the Bible was written thousands of years before the first photograph was ever produced, it certainly has things to say about images.

Here’s what I’ve found. Photography is a tool. It can be used for good or for evil. Before I take a photograph, I find myself asking some questions.

• What am I going to do with this photo?

• Is it going to serve people?

• Make them aware of some issue?

• Inspire or encourage them?

• Help to tell a story that is true?

If I can’t answer yes to these questions, I don’t take the picture. From a humbled position, I want to offer God the work of my hands and allow him to use it; not let the work of my hands becoming something that I devote myself to in and of itself (Psalm 90). In a culture that has become image-obsessed, I want to ensure that the images I take aren’t just adding to the noise, but rather telling stories that matter.

Our students work with the elderly through the COVID-19 pandemic was noted by The Tennesseean. Read about our students’ commitment to continue in service in creative ways.

When taking pictures DOES make a difference.

Recently, I had the opportunity to do a portrait session for a group of elderly residents at a nearby assisted living home. For some of these folks, it was the first time they’d had their portrait taken in years, for a few it was their first time having their portrait taken period. I had been to this facility many times to visit these residents, often bringing my camera along to capture the visit. This time was special, however, because I not only got to capture their pictures, but when we returned we were able to present them with their photos framed and a digital version to send to their friends and family.

It was a priceless moment to see the pride on their faces as they looked at their portraits. Such a moment went beyond the appreciation of art and seared deep into my soul. What a gift to be able to use my talents to humanize those whom society has often overlooked.

I would not have made these considerations had I not learned the Bible. And while I don’t claim to be an expert in media or biblical studies, I do think the combination of these skills has made me a compassionate photographer and videographer. And I’m thankful for the opportunity to tell better stories  - stories that serve a purpose, that give voice to those who have been denied one in this world.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.”

— Proverbs 31:8