Time and the tide waits for no one, we’re certain of this, for we can no more wrestle the waters of the sea to keep the waves from their constant flowing in and out than we can stop the minutes and seconds from slipping into the past, where they’ll be only a memory for a while.
As a mother, I endured the pains of childbirth for excruciating moments, but when I held my beloved daughter in my arms, I immediately began to replace those difficult memories with the present joys of her new life and my new hopes for our life to come. I learned how quickly a newborn child could grow, for she hardly had a chance to wear those cute 3 month old clothes before she outgrew them. When she was six, I bought her lace Sox and white patent leather shoes two weeks before her baptism, but she out grew them and walked to the font barefooted to receive the sacramental water.
I was appalled, but children’s feet don’t pay attention to parent’s pocketbooks or church calendars. Besides, God called her to holy ground, so her feet needed to be bared. The rest of us were just doing church. Time and tide, as well as the Holy Spirit, can’t be controlled by any human means. We have to ask, what does this have to do with art?
Samuel Johnson, the English author said, “The true art of memory is the art of attention.” To what do we pay attention?
1. To the various lists of chores we need to do before we can do something for our own joy or spiritual health?
2. To our list of fears and anxieties about what others will think of our choice to do an activity?
3. To our feelings of inadequacy if we don’t achieve instant success?
I could name others, but in truth, the true art of memory, which is the art of attention, is being present to oneself and to the present moment. We aren’t asked to be in the future or the past, but in the now. This isn’t as easy as it seems, but it’s extremely rewarding. When an artist “gets into this zone of the present moment,” all cares fall away, thinking about pains and problems ceases, and only the creative process and the creation becomes important. In a sense, the artist enters into the life of the creating God. How is this so? God is I AM, or the one who is I AM BECOMING. God is also I WILL BE, for God’s name is all of the “being and becoming” verbs at once.
I began formal art lessons at age 8 years old, but not everyone has that opportunity. Grandma Moses began painting at 78 years of age. Some people paint for fame or to try to earn a living. That was my goal before God called me to the ministry. Now I see my art as the opportunity for others to grow closer to God as a form of meditation. It’s also a good way to challenge the brain, since learning new things helps to keep the mind sharp. Adults need this, along with exercise, a healthy lifestyle, and companionship.
Over the last year, two students have persisted. Both have improved their drawing skills, they are better able to make self directed choices, they are better problem solvers, they see better, and their painting skills are improving. Moreover, while they say “I really don’t have time for this, but if I don’t do it, I get overwhelmed by too many other things. Art class helps me clear out a space for myself.”
In a sense, painting is like prayer. If we don’t have time for prayer, we can find our lives cycling out of control. We are ships on tides we can’t control and live from day to day, watching the leaves of our calendars fly past us, never to return again. Some of us may like living in chaos, since it gives us the feeling of being alive. Others choose to live in chaos because then they don’t have to deal with their feelings, but can spend their time putting out the fires. If we stop for prayer, or stop to paint, these feelings will come to the surface. At least in prayer or in art class, we’re in a place where God is close at hand. As the scriptures promise,
“The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.” (Psalms 145:18)
I awoke Sunday morning to a fog enveloped world. My brain was much the same until I made my morning cup of coffee. Unfortunately, this took longer than I expected, for I had only one tablespoon of grounds and a full bag of beans. I’m glad the electric coffee grinder was standing silent beside the coffee pot, waiting only for its moment to be of service. On any ordinary day, I ignore it completely, just as many of us fail to observe the subtle changing of colors from day to day or how the sunlight of the seasons has a different temperature and feel.
Seeing is a learned skill, but like the ancient, secret, gnostic wisdom known only to a few and passed by word of mouth, seeing is best learned in an art class with one who is an eye already. Cézanne characterized Monet as “only an eye—yet what an eye.” Monet taught students not to think of the tree, the building, or the flowers they painted, but of the colors and shapes they were putting on their canvases. This is a conceptual leap, as if we were translating English into Spanish or Martian (we may need this when we go to Mars).
faced with all the many impressions daily flooding into our consciousness, most
of us have learned to block all these distractions out. We do this to “get our
chores done in record time” and “come home to escape from this rat race.” “Out
of sight and out of mind” is a phrase I often heard growing up. We are often
“unconscious people,” walking about in a fog. My dad grew a mustache and my mother
kissed him every night before bed without realizing he’d changed his facial
appearance. I came home for a visit and said, “When did you grow the Col.
Saunders’s look?” My mother was shocked she hadn’t noticed it.
Our first lessons in art class are drawing the geometric figures, since we can simplify or translate most things in nature to these forms. Bushes are balls, houses are cubes, trees are cones, and so on. Some are multiplications of the forms, such as some tree’s foliage is made up of several ball shapes. You get the idea. This way of looking helps to simplify the details so people don’t get stuck on every single leaf.
Another way to simplify is to leave out some of what you see and focus only on what you think is important. If you were a camera in front of a landscape, your eye would take in everything in front of it. We aren’t cameras, however. We can paint as much or as little of what we see before us as we want. I remember in seminary study groups, we prepared for final exams together. The exam would be 3 hours long and cover a semester’s work, which included all the class notes and 15,000 pages of reading. Some of my pals would write a book length answer to one study question. “Fine, but there’s going to be a dozen other questions, so can you hone this down to an essay?” Keeping it simple is a good motto in art class.
Friday in art class I brought in angel hair spaghetti. If the kids eat it, I’m not worried. Fortunately, my “kids” are grownups, but we like to get our inner child out to play every once in a while. We put paint on the sticks and tossed them down on our canvases wherever luck would have them land. In biblical terms, this is “casting lots.” I had given them some ideas for landscape images or they could do some squares in the style of Paul Klee. They went with trees. Mr. Energy and Exuberance, aka Mike, finished his up with jewel tones. Gail, Thoughtful and Precise, did a hard edge tree with a lightning bolt in the background. I worked on a Klee square piece, but I only got the first layer down. It needs more subtle overpainting.
Learning how to see is a lifetime process. The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance, and this, and not the external manner and detail, is true reality, said Aristotle. Art opens us up not only to the outer world, but also to our inner world. As we see more in the world about us, we find more compassion for its brokenness as well as more love for its beauty. Likewise, we realize we too are both broken and beautiful, so we find we can be more compassionate and loving towards our own selves. As forgiven and reconciled people, we can pour God’s love out into the world and into our art as well.
We discover art isn’t just about decorating a surface with pretty colors and shapes, but art is more about the spiritual process of growing in grace, accepting our lack of strength, and learning to depend on the power of the Spirit moving our hands and hearts. The more we try to impose our power upon the work, the less life it has, but the more we “get out of ourselves,” and let our inner witness work, the more life our creation embodies.
the artist within each of us is always creating a new thing, just as God is
For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth;
the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind.
As part of my ministry in retirement, I take my prior callings as an artist and a pastor with equal passion and joy. I call my studio ARTANDICON because my paintings aren’t just pretty colors, but always have a spiritual content. You may think I’ve painted a pleasing landscape, but my intent was to glorify the God who created this world and gave us the mandate to care for God’s creation.
In art class we not only learn art lessons, such as how to render a realistic 3-dimensional geometric form on a flat piece of canvas in perspective using size and scale, but we also learn about the color wheel. Colors which are warm tend to come forward, and cool colors tend to recede. These examples from last week’s class are a case in point.
I didn’t make it easy on them, for we learn more when we’re faced with a challenge. Adults in particular need to have continuous learning experiences to keep their minds nimble and active. Learning new and complex skills is one of the six pillars of Alzheimer’s prevention, along with social engagement, regular exercise, healthy diet, quality sleep, and stress management.
This is the 2nd year of our class and they’re showing improvement over last year. They can draw the forms better and we’re working now to free them from making a line and filling it in like a coloring book. This is a sign of “needing to get the design right before I start.” Most of us are “afraid” most of our lives—will we measure up, what will people think of me, what if I make a mess, and worst of all, can I live with myself and know I’m not perfect?
Each person in art starts from where they begin. Art is one of the few classes in which working hard will help improve your skills. Plus students aren’t judged against against an abstract criteria, but for how well they managed to fulfill the parameters of the lesson and their overall improvement. Faith, not works, may get us to heaven, but works, not faith, get us an art work.
In art class, we have to drop all these false masks of “competence and perfection.” Every day is a learning experience and every work we do will have some small part which we know “I could have done this better.” Yet we have to let this work go out from under our hands and take this lesson to the next work. If we truly learned that lesson, we’ll learn a new one on this next work, and the cycle repeats. We call this the growth cycle in art. In life, it’s called “growing pains” or suffering. All artists “suffer for their work” if they’re making progress and growing.
In the spiritual life we can be comfortable or suffering. Those of us who are comfortable aren’t aware of the suffering of others, the injustice of systemic oppression, or environmental harm. We aren’t meant to merely co-suffer, but are called to act to relieve suffering and change the systems that cause suffering in the world and her peoples.
In art class, students tend to draw one object at a time, without checking the scale of it to the nearby objects. Then when they paint it, they focus on getting the one object looking good, even if they ignore the original shape. Rather than correct the other shapes of their drawing, they go ahead and fill in the lines. This is a problem many of us have in life. We pay too much attention to one thing, to the detriment of everything else. We work on it, trying to get it right and then everything else is out of whack. We’re like a three year old who gets the scissors in hand and works diligently to even out his or her selfie haircut. It doesn’t go well for us. It’s like cleaning the kitchen, but letting the rest of the house go to pot or worse.
Art class is a place where you learn life lessons as well as art. Art is for life. It’s a place where you can get encouragement for your best efforts. We all make the same mistakes. Great artists can see flaws in their own work the average person doesn’t have the eye to see. If they are truly great, they’ll be truly humble, for they know how much more they have to learn. If we could bring these art lessons to life, many of our interpersonal relationships would be much more successful.
“And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” ~~ Romans 5:3-5
My childhood memories of endless summers overlap with those of my first days at school, while I try to repress my more recent adult memories of an early September Monday when all I wanted to do was drink copious amounts of coffee and deal with the simple problem of a church van’s dead battery. It wasn’t to be so, for 18 years ago, airplanes were crashing into skyscrapers and people were dying on our soil. That was 2001, and all the September 11th memorials afterwards have been dedicated to first responders everywhere.
We as a nation have been “at war” for so long, we’ve begun to see any person who disagrees with us as an “enemy,” even if they’re our neighbor. It is time for us to learn to “make peace” again. To make peace is not to change someone else, but to allow change to happen within us. First we admit we’re not always right about everything. I personally have trouble with this hurdle. I study a lot and I’ve had a bunch of experiences, but there’s things I still don’t know. I sure didn’t sleep in a Holiday Inn last night.
Labor Day, September 2, is the unofficial end of meteorological summer. The Autumnal Equinox is when the Sun crosses the celestial equator, moving from north to south. This date, September 23, is considered to be the first day of astronomical Fall. Rather than argue when fall begins, I’m going to celebrate Fall often and early because I think we can’t party enough.
Labor Day weekend is the last big picnic weekend to get away from home. The lakes and mountains will be full of people, so drive carefully on the way home. Some folks like to do home repairs on this weekend—GIT ER DUN!
Back when my folks were young, children worked long hours, rather than going to school. Elwood Palmer Cooper, 7, had already worked for a year on this miller’s wagon in Wilmington, Delaware. He carried 25-pound bags of flour from the wagon to stores to earn 25 cents a week in spending money. (1910).
It took the Great Depression of the 1930’s to move the many unemployed adults into the children’s jobs before Americans became “ashamed of exploiting child labor.” Today we seem to prefer low prices, just as long as we don’t see the children overseas who make our clothes and shoes. The United Nations estimates 170 million children are engaged in child labor, out of the 260 million employed children around the world, the rest of whom do their work on family farms and in family enterprises. Cheap clothing, also known as “fast fashion,” is primarily responsible for the use of children in overseas factories, along with styles that change from year to year.
We can decide if we want to contribute to this cycle of perpetual poverty in these developing countries, or break the chains of ignorance and set the children free to get an education. It wasn’t but a century ago, only about 30% of American students graduated from high school, whereas now over a third of the population has a college degree. If we want to have a world with people who are more free and open, we would might do better to encourage them to grow, rather than to use them as servants or workers with no prospects for advancement.
Or we could go hang at Starbucks, where the friendly baristas have rolled out the pumpkins already. I tried the Pumpkin Cream Cold Brew, which is half the calories and carbs of the Pumpkin Spice Frappuccino. If we’re going to drink coffee, at least it’s responsibly sourced. We can’t do all things, but we can do some things. At least we can use the time to think about our money and our values. Also, now’s the time to begin planning your Halloween costume, but wait on the candy buying until it goes on sale.
Constitution Day, September 17, marks the signing of this unique American document in 1787, which established our current form of government and replaced the original Articles of Confederation. “We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.” If we’ve not lived up to this perfection yet, let’s go onto perfection in the days and years to come.
Get yerrr Pirate on!
One way we can all become one tribe again, and celebrate the joy of life is Talk Like a Pirate Day on September 19. Aye, matey, ye don’t have to wear a tricornered hat, or even an eye patch, but bonus points if ye do. Just speak pirate all day long, especially to your parrot. Take off early to look for buried treasure. Tell your boss, Captain Cornie said you could. And the boss should leave early also. Happy September, my bunny friends. See you in October.
Love, Joy, and Peace,
By Galway Kinnell – 1927-2014
I love to go out in late September
among the fat, overripe, icy, black blackberries
to eat blackberries for breakfast,
the stalks very prickly, a penalty
they earn for knowing the black art
of blackberry-making; and as I stand among them
lifting the stalks to my mouth, the ripest berries
fall almost unbidden to my tongue,
as words sometimes do, certain peculiar words
like strengths or squinched,
many-lettered, one-syllabled lumps,
which I squeeze, squinch open, and splurge well
in the silent, startled, icy, black language
of blackberry-eating in late September.
Porch Swing in September
By Ted Kooser – 1939-
The porch swing hangs fixed in a morning sun
that bleaches its gray slats, its flowered cushion
whose flowers have faded, like those of summer,
and a small brown spider has hung out her web
on a line between porch post and chain
so that no one may swing without breaking it.
She is saying it’s time that the swinging were done with,
When I was a child, my mother’s friends were sure I was the spitting image of little Martha. Likewise, my daddy’s friends thought I was a chip off the old block of Stew-boy. I suppose I had enough of the parental DNA to be claimed by both sides of the family, as long as I wasn’t in the dog house for some juvenile infraction. Even today, folks are just gaga over who the newest royal baby favors, whether it’s our beautiful American Megan’s face or the handsome English Prince Harry’s mug. Since baby Andrew is a boy, hopefully he inherits Harry’s beard and the good health of both parents.
This odd phrase, the “spitting image,” was known in its earliest form in the 17th century, and has come down in its modern meaning today through literature and the theater. I heard it growing up from all the old folks in town and from all my out of town relatives when they pinched my cheeks at the summer camp meetings and family reunions. If you read some internet sites, they’ll even claim it has a biblical source, since God used spit and mud to create the first human beings. Of course, these sites don’t bother to attach the texts, but just repeat the claim. Let’s see if you can spot which text is the “proof” for this “spitting image” claim.
The first chapter of Genesis is the most recent biblical account of creation, known as the Priestly account: “Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the wild animals of the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth.’ So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” ~~ Genesis 1.26-27
We don’t see the mud and spit claim here, so we turn to the older account of creation, found in Genesis 2:4-7—
“In the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, when no plant of the field was yet in the earth and no herb of the field had yet sprung up—for the Lord God had not caused it to rain upon the earth, and there was no one to till the ground; but a stream would rise from the earth, and water the whole face of the ground— then the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and the man became a living being.”
Here we have water from streams or mists rising from the face of the earth and dust from the ground, which God used to form the first human person. However, God doesn’t use spit.
Where do people get the idea God uses spit and mud to create human beings? They must be thinking of Jesus, who cured the blind beggar with a poultice of dust and saliva, as recorded in the book of John:
As he walked along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’
Jesus answered, ‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned; he was born blind so that God’s works might be revealed in him. We must work the works of him who sent me while it is day; night is coming when no one can work. As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.’
When he had said this, he spat on the ground and made mud with the saliva and spread the mud on the man’s eyes, saying to him, ‘Go, wash in the pool of Siloam’ (which means Sent).
Then he went and washed and came back able to see.
~~ John 9:1-7
If some folks confuse Jesus with God, we can forgive them, since Colossians 1:15 reminds us, “He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.”
As the ancient creeds remind us, God has One nature, but Three Persons; and is one in unity of work, wisdom, energy, and love. We who were created in this divine image “and have clothed (ourselves) with the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge according to the image of its creator,” are daily recovering the image of God. Colossians 3:10 is one of the most precious promises of the faith, for it testifies to God’s work in us, as the passive voice in scripture so often denotes.
So, what exactly is this divine image? If we look around us, we see a variety of faces and bodies, if we count the physical types of human beings. While some have tried to claim a perfect racial image in the past, or to eliminate all but their own tribal relations, today we have difficulty holding this thought together with “firstborn of all creation.” If we believe God created all things, all people, and all of us humans share in the divine image, then we’re all part of God’s family and we all share the DNA of the image.
Is that image physical? It’s not the DNA of genetics, although we all share 99.9% of our DNA if we have common ancestry from any of the great continents. For those of European ancestry, everyone has a common ancestor from 3,400 years ago. Yet we still have enough variety in our DNA to make us unique persons. Because God’s creation of human beings in God’s image isn’t a physical imitation of God’s spiritual body, we have to understand the IMAGE as an incorporeal form more than a bodily form.
If we’re made in the spiritual image of God, then we must be more aligned to the wisdom of God, the energy, work, love of God, and look to our need to acquire the divine nature, as we put off our human nature bit by bit. If we keep yearning for the human nature, or the mortal flesh, then we’ll never grow into the higher and finer image. We often make the excuse, “I only human,” but fail to ask for God’s help to grow beyond our human nature into the divine nature of love for all creation.
Moreover, if we’re made in the spiritual image of God, our physical attributes mean less than our spiritual attributes. This isn’t to discount our humanity, but it’s to say our human differences mean less to God than they do to us. We look for reasons to separate us into tribes, but God looks for reasons to include us into incorporate us into God’s family, “for those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn within a large family.” ~~ Romans 8.29
Then it matters not who we are, what we look like, or where we’ve been on our journey to our faith in the Christ who saves us. Just as the Son has the image of God, and all persons have the image of God, all can be saved by the faith of the Son who trusted in the Father for his life, death, and resurrection. Too often people of faith focus wrongly on the requirements for a good life in order to be saved, but the only true necessity for salvation is unconditional faith in the one whose faith rested in the God who both creates and saves God’s people and world. This is why his family called him Jesus, or “God Saves.”
This is why the most unlikely people can claim the faith of Christ, and why their faith drives “good people” to distraction. But as it was even in the days of the Lord himself, as he reminded those who wanted to keep the smallest of laws, but ignore the greater meaning and spirit of the whole law. The whole of the law was summed up in two commandments: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” ~~ Matthew 22:37-39
I admit it’s hard to love my neighbors, since it’s sometimes difficult to love even some of the members of my extended family. If I’m honest, I often need a little breathing room from some of my immediate family, but I admit I have stress issues after a lifetime of ministry and helping people with their myriad family crises.
If we can learn to include in our lives and in our worship places more people who have hearts full of love of God and neighbor, we might find ourselves enriched by their joy and talents, as well as their fresh outlooks on life. The more alike we all are, the fewer creative ideas are lifted for the unknown future. We need a variety of viewpoints and visions to meet the challenges of the future, which by definition will not be a repeat of yesterday. We cannot pour new wine into old wineskins, or the vessel won’t hold. We are a people inspired by the Holy Spirit and meant to change.
As the scripture tells us in 2 Corinthians 3:17-18—
“Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And all of us, with unveiled faces, seeing the glory of the Lord as though reflected in a mirror, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord, the Spirit.”
I’ve included various paintings from my studio of the icons of Christ. Many people have their own image of Jesus which appeals to them, and it’s usually one that is created in a human image. By this I mean, the Jesus is sympathetic, prayerful, strong, otherworldly, calm, friendly, or some other attribute common to the relevant age. The Japanese Jesus has Orientalized features, the Native American Jesus looks like one of the people, the African Jesus is black, and the European American Jesus favors Mediterranean origins more than the Holy Land. The Icons of the early church have their own imagery, which is as much theological as artistic. I hope you enjoy the post, and focus on one question per day to consider:
Do you see the image of God in others?
How is your own image of God is recovering?
Do the acts or behaviors of others diminish the image of God in them?
How can you find common cause with people you disagree with?
Spend a day looking for the good in others.
Use today to reflect in words, art, or music on your experience with the image of God.
INTERNET REFERENCES TO SPITTING IMAGE IN THE BIBLE
Today I’ve been alive for a grand total of 25,976 days. That’s a big number for an old gal. Of course, if I really wanted to feel old, I could count all the minutes I’ve been alive—just think about being 37,406,345 minutes old! I’m a millionaire in minutes. Don’t multiply that number by 60 to get the accumulated seconds, or you’ll go crazy thinking about 2,244,380,700.
Of course, none of us are as old as the estimated age of the universe, which is 4.32 × 10 to the 17th power in seconds, assuming 13.7 billion years since the Big Bang. Of course, God preexisted long before God created the universe, but no one was around to count birthdays. These anniversaries are irrelevant to an eternal being who has always existed, and will have no demise, just as the markings of a nonexistent birthday are. We finite beings hold all these ritual days to be ripe with sentiment, for we know how fragile the thread of life can be.
My thread has been spinning quite a long time now, with over two billion seconds accumulated. I may not be wealthy, but at least I can be a billionaire in a life well lived. Some folks think when you get to a certain age, your best days are behind you. They’re the ones who continually talk about how great life was back when they were young and full of it. Now they’re old and full of it, but they’re out to pasture and don’t get to make things happen. They long for the days that were, when they made life happen.
Life goes on, of course, with or without us. The old, who stay young at heart, find a new passion in their later years. They either pick up an earlier hobby or begin a new one. They attempt new challenges, even if they seem uncomfortable at first. They mentor younger leaders and encourage the next generation rather than complain how they don’t do the work the same way we did, back in our day. Those well worn paths are now ruts, which is why the young want to try a new route.
We can take a page from their book, even at our billionaire age. Yet we have to admit, setting off on a new path is difficult, for we leave our familiar landmarks behind. We also aren’t certain of our destination, since it’s somewhere “yonder” and “where (God) will show (us).” Sometimes the path isn’t even well marked. The worst thing about starting over is being a novice. We have to swallow our pride, for while we might be highly accomplished in our day job, we’ll be only a rank beginner in our new hobby.
When I went on medical leave about a dozen years ago, I started painting again. I didn’t have time for art for over two decades while in seminary or serving a church as a pastor. My mind could envision an image, but my hand lagged behind in the skill to execute it. Now I can tell when I’m well—the work flows—but when I’m under the weather—my hand and mind aren’t coordinated at all. We have to have faith that “the one who began a good work among you will bring it to completion by the day of Jesus Christ.” (Philippians 1:6)
Of course, Paul was speaking of the total transformation of our lives into the complete image of Christ, but we could also speak of God uniting the body, mind, and spirit into one complete whole, so that we’re able to be at one with our creative energy and what we create. We can only do this by being in one accord with the Creator of all creation.
If I had given up in despair because my early works didn’t match my vision of what I wanted them to be, I would have been as faithless as the church that turns away the people who aren’t yet perfect in faith. God doesn’t call the church to be a gathering of already perfect people waiting for Jesus to return. God does call all of us to go onto perfection and love for our God and our neighbors . So we have known and believe the love that God has for us.
Providence of God, 2009
“Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us. God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them. Love has been perfected among us in this: that we may have boldness on the day of judgment, because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear; for fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not reached perfection in love.” (1 John 4:11-12, 16-18)
We had a bright taste of spring in last Friday’s art class with the yellow daffodils from Gail’s yard. She and Mike have come a long way in their powers of observation and rendering. They take their time to see, study, and really observe intentionally whatever objects are before them. These two students have been to most of the 26 classes to date, beginning back in June 2018. They’ve come a long way.
We can get lost in the busyness of the world with all the competing claims for our attention, but if we take our time, breathe, look for the most important things first, and then deal with the details, we’ll usually have a better outcome. This is an art studio principle we can carry over into life.
I happen to be doing something entirely different. It’s a woven painting, from two old works I’m no longer keeping. As part of my recycled/resurrection series, it belongs to a theme of change. In Luke 9:51, we hear
“When the days drew near for him to be taken up,
he set his face to go to Jerusalem.”
Sometimes we have to set our minds on what God wants for us and deal with the consequences. As we head into Lent, I recognize as a teacher most students today don’t want to suffer, but want the prize of achievement without the sweat of practice. Some say 10,000 hours is the mythical threshold to acquire competency.
Will we then all be Leonardo’s, Picasso’s, or Monet’s? Some of us will work 100,000 hours and still be ourselves, but we’ll be so much more than we were when we began! It’s like the Christian life: if we aren’t intentional about giving ourselves into God’s service, we won’t practice it often enough to grow in love and grace.
I had a dream about this image I’m working on now. Jesus knows the cross is before him. He’s already seen it in his mind. When he goes down to Jerusalem for the Passover, things won’t go well for him. He can go to fulfill his mission or turn tail and run. The prelude to his ministry was the temptation in the desert, which we remember during Lent. He goes forward to the certainty of his ministry and also his death and resurrection.
DeLee—Face Set Towards Jerusalem”
Those of us who like Easter, but not Good Friday, will one day have to deal with suffering: our own, someone’s we love, or the suffering of humanity. We can’t escape suffering, for it’s part of the human condition. Some of it we choose, like training for sports, but some is visited upon us unkindly, such as the dread illnesses and wars of our world. Some were born into suffering by geographic location, and this causes mass refugee populations to move across national borders in search of hope and opportunity.
When we’re painting these pretty pictures of flowers, we can think of those who have put their hope in God’s hands and remember we are Christ’s hands in God’s world.
My weaving is a dream image of a transformational point in time when you see what is both before you and behind you. You choose to go ahead anyway, even knowing the consequences. Both the hero and the artist have to risk the danger. Otherwise we’ll paint pretty canvases for nice homes and be the Christians who wear our decorative crosses, but we’ll never bear the cross for the sake of Christ, his kingdom, and the better world God calls us to recreate.
The Christian life calls each of us to be a hero, one who suffers on behalf of another. If our lives are too easy, we aren’t walking like Christ. We aren’t called to suffer at the hands of another, or to be harmed by others, but there’s a real need in our lives for “structured and guided suffering in a safe environment,” such as learning a new skill or getting outside of our comfort zone.
“The most serious charge, which can be brought against New England, is not Puritanism, but February,” said Joseph Wood Krutch, a 20th century American critic and naturalist. If he were alive today, he’d charge this February with felonies!
Winter has come with an exceptional vengeance in some parts of the country, causing us to ask, “What global warming? If boiling water freezes before it hits the ground, how can we have global warming?”
Extreme weather events, such as those which can freeze the ears off a rabbit, are common to global warming or climate change. This is why we have the polar vortex in winter and drenching, slow moving rains during hurricane season. While rabbits don’t hibernate during the winter, the groundhog does take a peek out of the burrow on February 2nd to check the weather. According to the tradition, if it emerged and the sun was out, there would be six more weeks of winter. Remember, winter means “weather,” not “climate.”
The rabbits get a workout the next day with the Super Bowl, America’s all day long food festival. Many gather only for the commercials, the community, and the calories. This day marks the end of many people’s Rabbit Food Diets, Restrictive Eating Plans, and New Year’s Resolutions. This is a blessing in disguise, for Valentine candy is about to go on sale. Don’t wait for someone to give it to you—buy a box for your own beloved self! And yes, you can share with any other rabbit you love in this world.
Speaking of love, the Duke of Orléans sent the first Valentine’s Day card to his wife while he was he was a prisoner in the Tower of London in 1415. In the United States, Valentine’s Day cards didn’t gain popularity until the Revolutionary War, when people took up the habit of writing handwritten notes to their sweethearts. In the early 1900s, mass produced cards for the holiday became popular. Today about 144 million Valentine cards are exchanged, second only to Christmas.
February 2019 is only 28 days long because it’s not a leap year, so the good news is, no matter whether Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow or not, the spring equinox will be here on March 20th. Too bad we won’t know what the weather will be! Rabbit wisdom always claims those who love never worry about the outer temperature, since their hearts and minds are fixed on the ones they love.
Haiku: Love, Love, Love By M. As I’m Nehal
keeper of my heart love me as long as i live show me the bright light
Making Found Object Icons is an art project that evolved out of the Great Macaroni Multimedia Traveling Artandicon Show. In seminary during Art Week our fellow students were horrified we were making sacred images out of edible products, such as macaroni, lentils, peas, and beans.
Jesus is the Bread of Life
“Jesus is the bread of life, and macaroni is just another form of wheat,” we replied.
“But it’s so ordinary!”
“Clay is ordinary, and so is stone. Can an object only be worthy of God if it’s made of expensive materials?”
“The value of all the chemicals in a human body is about $5.18, but we’re worth far more than that in the eyes of God. Some say God doesn’t make junk, yet too many people of faith despise and debase the body. I’ve always wondered why this was so, since the Son of God came to earth in human form, and as the great hymn in Philippians 2:5-11 (NRSV) says—
“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.”
When we meet Christ at Christmas, we can get all warm and fuzzy because who doesn’t like a warm, cuddly baby? Maybe I have a soft spot for babies, but I really don’t trust people who don’t get a little ga-ga when the little ones coo and smile. I can understand folks getting squeamish at Good Friday and the cross. Most of us avoid as much pain as possible. Humility and obedience to God are not high priorities these days for many people.
Flight into Egypt
Many tend to ignore this wonderful call to the Christ-like life, preferring instead the cop out of “Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak,” (Mark 14:38, NRSV). “Forgive us,” we say, but we hold others up to high standards.
We make a distinction between our dual natures of the flesh and the spirit, a concept inherited from the Greco-Roman culture. It’s notable that the often quoted verse, “If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit,” is found in Galatians 6:8 (NRSV), for this was a Roman province.
The ancient Mediterranean area had a knowledge/mystery tradition. The Greeks had their cult of Bacchus, the Egyptians the cult of Isis, and the Jewish had their mystical Kabbalah. The Romans had their dying and rising god cult of Mithras, the bull. Entry into all of these groups was by word of mouth only, given to a special few, and all had secret rites known to the members only. Most promised salvation through secret knowledge, and the true world for them was spiritual rather than the physical world in which we live today. Ecstatic worship separated the believer from the body and the ordinary world.
You might recognize these traits in your own church or worship community today, except for the ecstatic and enthusiastic worship brought about by mood altering substances. That’s not my church anyway! How do we come close to God? Across the centuries, the tradition has discovered contemplative prayer, singing, searching the scriptures, serving the poor, attending the sacraments, and creating art for God or the Holy Icons.
Making an object for the glory of God, to enhance the worship experience, and to honor God is a gift of the artist’s time and talent. No artist is ever paid what their training and talent is worth, for it’s a treasure from God to begin with—it can’t be valued. Artists have learned over the centuries to live simply, accept fame if it comes, and put a fair price on their work.
They get value in the spiritual real from the work they do, for the icon opens a window into heaven. As they arrange the jewels and found objects, and move them to a better position, the icon comes alive under their hands and begins to breathe. Only the person, who will be still long enough to hear the silence from beyond the open window, can hear the voice of God in this world. For this person, the icon is a treasure, and a place of holy focus, no matter how small or how simple the materials.
This is the reason the artist makes an icon—to have a moment of mystery, a time of intersection, and a communion with the holy. In today’s hurried world, each of us wants a place in which we can experience for a moment the timelessness of heaven.
When we return in the New Year, we’ll begin painting our own holy icons. The process is a spiritual journey, more than a destination or the attempt to reach perfection. We only need to “go toward perfection” each day!
Some things I take for granted, since I had the great privilege of knowing my great grandmother in her last years. I knew all but one of my grandparents, since my daddy’s father died when I was only a year old. Even my daughter knew both her Nana and all four of her grandparents. Growing up we attended family reunions or homecomings every summer without fail. We renewed ties with the distant or “kissing cousins” who also showed up for the food and fellowship. I also have family members who care about genealogy, especially if this gets them into exclusive organizations, but I’ve never joined these.
The Mexican festival for the Day of the Dead pays respects to the ancestors. In truth, we don’t need to know who they are, or to have had an intimate relationship with them. After all, I certainly didn’t know my great great ancestors! I can appreciate I wouldn’t be here without their gift of life to my more proximate relatives. This is what the writer of Hebrews means by, “we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses” (12:1).
The Day of the Dead is celebrated on or around All Saints Day, and sometimes for several days on either side of it. It began with an Aztec custom, and blended into the Catholic tradition. This is a time for feasting, celebrations, and joy, to make memorable the experience of recalling the lives of the ancestors. Sweet foods shaped like skulls are one of the traditions.
Michael worked on a pyramid of foam core boards, which he painted to look like stones. He decorated it with store bought skulls and a photo of his deceased brother. He has more nuts and bolts from a found object stash to add to it. Telling the story of his beloved one is part of the project. Art is part therapy and part project. We may work with our hands, but our hearts and minds are also involved.
Gail worked on a tombstone painting with images of her ancestors and their pets. She figured our how to transfer photos to cloth via the printer! Technology! I was impressed! Plus Gail made coffee for my sake, and it was a means of grace, since I’ve had a serious sinus infection that won’t go away. Coffee really is a blessing.
I’m slowly working on a new box for my daughter’s memory. This is the third anniversary of her death. When we think of the Dead, we remember
we believe “he is God not of the dead, but of the living; for to him all of them are alive” (Luke 20:38). So we don’t grieve like others do, for our loved ones aren’t lost to us. Since God is close to us, and our loved ones are with God, this means our loved ones are always as close to us as God is.
In these past three years, grief has roiled not only our nation, but the nations of the world. Since 2015, more than 33,000 Americans have died as a result of the opioid epidemic, but drug overdose deaths overall are even larger. In 2015 alone, 52,404 people died from a drug overdose and 64,070 died in the year ending in January, 2017. Across the world, 2015 was remarkable for forcibly displaced persons: 21.3 million refugees, 40.8 million internally displaced persons, and 3.2 million asylum seekers. The photo of the drowned Syrian boy, who washed up on a Turkish beach, helped open Europe’s doors to people fleeing the war torn country they once called home. Now we have neighbors from the south fleeing gangs and corruption in the hope of a place to work and give their families a better life.
Perhaps we’ve had so much of our own grief, we can’t deal with any more. We’ve become numb to the pain of others. If this is the case, we are dead inside, and others need to grieve for us. The fancy name for our condition is “compassion fatigue,” for we hear folks saying, “We should take care of our own first,” but our own go hungry and sleep in the bushes behind our churches or on our city streets.
To live with joy isn’t easy in the early days after the death of a loved one, but as our journey progresses toward recovery, we come to remember who we are and whose we are. Making a scrapbook, writing a journal, or building an altar are all physical means to engage the senses. Once we tap these, we can open the floodgates to our emotions and thoughts, and then healing can begin. We aren’t healed in a moment, but by a process over time.
“Hear, LORD, and be merciful to me; LORD, be my help.
You turned my wailing into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy”
~~ Psalms 30:10-11
NEXT WEEK: We begin a new still life painting series—Ornamental Gourds.
No, we aren’t painting ON the gourds…Bring paints and a canvas!