Dylan and the Divine: Understanding the Source of Creativity

I’ve been a Bob Dylan fan since I was 16. That was actually when I decided I was going to be Bob Dylan (or at least the “next” Bob Dylan). I taught myself guitar and harmonica, started writing songs and poetry, and even played some local shows. But there was one glaring problem: I didn’t have Dylan’s talent—not even close.

My rhymes were hard to find and my melodies derivative. Still, I tried. Like a thousand other dreamers with scruffy hair and second-hand guitars, I chased the muse that seemed to live permanently on Dylan’s shoulder. But no matter how hard I tried, she refused to visit mine.

Back in the Spotlight 

After the recent release of the biopic A Complete Unknown, Dylan’s muse is back in the spotlight. Gen Z is adding to their playlists the songs that I had on vinyl, thanks in part to Timothée Chalamet’s magnetic portrayal of the icon.

For six decades, Dylan has been hailed as everything from a prophet to the Shakespeare of his generation. His trophy case must fill a room: 11 Grammys, a Golden Globe, an Academy Award, a Pulitzer Prize, the Presidential Medal of Freedom—oh—and the Nobel Prize in Literature (because why not?).

He demonstrated an otherworldly gift I (and many others) wanted desperately to capture. In A Complete Unknown, director James Mangold includes this line attributed to Dylan: “You know, people ask where the songs come from, but they don’t really want to know where the songs come from. They want to know why the songs didn’t come to them.”

I know exactly what it feels like to wish the music had come to me.

Ouch. That one hit me right in the ego. I know exactly what it feels like to wish the music had come to me—to stare at a blank page and wonder if the muse got lost on the way to my house. For Dylan, the page was never empty for long. He wrote “Blowin’ in the Wind” in ten minutes, and it became the anthem of a generation. Ten minutes! I’ve spent more time deciding what to make for lunch. So, where did his songs come from?

A Glimpse of Something Bigger

In a 2004 interview with 60 Minutes, Dylan told Ed Bradley, “I don’t know how I got to write those songs. Those early songs were like, almost magically written.”

Magically? Maybe. But recently, I stumbled across another explanation.

Just before the release of A Complete Unknown, Duluth’s public radio station aired an interview with Louis Kemp, Dylan’s lifelong friend. Kemp met the then-Bobby Zimmerman at Jewish summer camp when Dylan was 12 and Kemp was 11, and the two have been close ever since. Near the end of the interview, Kemp offered this insight: “He knows what he has is a gift from God, and he’s the conduit. He doesn’t feel that he should be taking the credit for it. He feels that the credit should go to God—that he’s been blessed.”

When people called Dylan “a prophet” and “the voice of a generation,” he shrugged it off. Kemp explained his friend’s perspective by distinguishing between luck and blessing; while luck is random, blessing comes directly from God. Dylan knows his gift is the latter.

Hearing Kemp’s perspective changed the way I think about creativity. For years, I saw Dylan’s talent as a wall I couldn’t climb. Now, I see it as a window: a glimpse into something bigger than all of us.

The Collaborative Work of Creativity

And that’s when I remembered a couple of obscure guys briefly mentioned in the Bible: Bezalel and Oholiab. (If you aren’t a Torah nerd, don’t try to pronounce those names at home—you could hurt yourself.)

They weren’t chasing a muse; they were following a divine spark.

In the book of Exodus, God told Moses to build Him a portable place of worship that would be suitable for a mobile, desert-based lifestyle. We read that God filled Bezalel with His Spirit, giving him skill and expertise in all kinds of craftsmanship and design. Not only that, but He also gave him a partner, Oholiab, to work alongside him. They weren’t just natural-born artists—their creativity was a special gift from God. They weren’t chasing a muse; they were following a divine spark.

And here’s what I love: Those two guys weren’t working alone. We read that God also gave skill to many craftsmen so they could join in the creative process. Creativity, at its core, isn’t a solo act. It thrives in community, in collaboration, in the sacred interplay of talent and purpose.

Maybe Dylan’s productive genius isn’t so different from the productivity of those two ancient guys and their creative crew. Maybe the songs that shaped a generation—and continue to influence many more—weren’t just the result of one man’s genius. Maybe they were the result of something greater flowing through Dylan, just as it flowed through Bezalel, Oholiab, and countless artists before and after them.

Recognizing Our Own Gifts

Nope, the songs didn’t come to me. But maybe that’s okay, because the God who gave Dylan his creative impulse also gave me mine. And God gave you yours too. Creativity, at its best, isn’t about us; it’s about what flows through us.

What if every brushstroke, lyric, or line of code we create is a glimmer of something divine? In one of his stories, Jesus (whom Dylan wrote about quite a bit) said that it’s not about how many talents or gifts you’ve got, but what you do with them. Whether your talent feels earth-shaking or more like a quiet nudge, Jesus’ instruction is simple: Take what you’ve been given and put it to work. 

As someone who spent countless hours trying to capture the creative gift of someone else, let me encourage you to spend time exploring how God has equipped you. Ask Him, What are my gifts? Perhaps you’re skilled in ways you hadn’t previously considered “creative.” 

Though I’ve had a few songs recorded and some articles published, I’ve realized that I feel most “in the flow” when I’m teaching—engaging groups in surprising, relational ways. When have you experienced that feeling? Have you become immersed in and energized by a creative project? That’s a chance to dig deeper and ask, What might God want to do through my creativity?

As unique creations of God, each of us has the opportunity to be conduits of God’s creative force. No one is given anyone else’s talent. Turns out, Dylan’s muse is Someone we all have access to.