"As Kingfishers Catch Fire"

I'm borrowing a book from my mother, The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by James Martin, SJ.  The author quotes a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889, Jesuit priest) in the context of discussing what it means to be who you are - who God has made you to be.  Although I may have read it before, I don't remember and it is like discovering a small gem.  (I might even have to memorize it!)

I think the part that speaks to me most is the second stanza.  I love the image of grace in which God sees in us - we who by that very grace are freed to be who we are meant to be - the beauty of Christ.

As Kingfishers Catch Fire 

by Gerard Manley Hopkins 

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves — goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I dó is me: for that I came. 

I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is —
Chríst — for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.

a gift

Dawn on Sacandaga Lake in the Adriondacks

Art for God's Sake (Part I)

A dear friend has graciously lent me a book entitled Art for God's Sake, by Philip Graham Ryken. It is a short book which briefly discusses some of the theology of why Christians value and create art. It was helpful to think about how the close ties between human art and very character of God. It also provides a vision for the possibilities of art made by followers of Christ.

As I wrote this post, I found myself writing in three categories: A Call to the Church, A Theology of Art, and A Vision for "Christian" Art. I have decided to post the first topic today, and the other two next week.

A Call to the Church
This book is clearly addressed to those in the church. Although Ryken reveals himself to be more of a theologian than an artist, his intent to build up the church is clear, and I think it is worth listening to what he has to say.

Ryken first addresses why the church in general has been skeptical of, and even at times rejected, the arts. I found the following to be a good insight:

More recently, many Christians have objected to art on the grounds that it is dominated by an anti-Christian view of the world. They rightly perceive that over the last century or more many artists, writers, and musicians have become increasingly cynical about the possibility of knowing truth. [...] Art has also suffered a tragic loss of sacred beauty, as many modern and postmodern artists have been attracted instead to absurdity, irrationality, and even cruelty. [...] a good deal of contemporary art is the art of alienation, which, if it is true at all, is true only about the disorder of a world damaged by our depravity. God can use transgressive art to awaken the conscience and arouse a desire for a better world. But as a general rule, such artwork does not reveal the redemptive possibilities of a world that, although fallen, has been visited by God and is destined for his glory.

The church must acknowledge this, but not assume that the art of followers of Christ must be like this. The implication is that there is hope - yes, even need- for art. We must develop and embrace a vision for Christian art.

Ryken also points out the need for Christians to value good art, warning us of some of the grievous consequences when we don't.

All too often we settle for something that is functional, but not beautiful. [...] Ultimately this kind of art dishonors God because it is not in keeping with the truth and beauty of his character. It also undermines the church's gospel message of salvation in Christ. [...] Furthermore, when we settle for trivial expressions of the truth in worship and art, we ourselves are diminished, as we suffer a loss of transcendence.

Whether we acknowledge it or not, art is a part of our churches and our lives. The question is, does it reflect who God is and bring glory to him? We must be thoughtful and careful with our art, striving for excellence and for art that comes out of a true understanding of who God is and his workings in our world. This is something I think is too often excused: we do not feel comfortable excusing our ignorance about God – why would we with art? Ryken cautions:

The problem with some modern and postmodern art is that it seeks to offer truth at the expense of beauty. It tells the truth only about ugliness and alienation, leaving out the beauty of creation and redemption. A good deal of so-called Christian art tends to have the opposite problem. It tries to show beauty without admitting the truth about sin, and to that extent it is false. Think of all the bright, sentimental landscapes that portray an ideal world unaffected by the Fall, or the light, cheery melodies that characterize the Christian life as one of undiminished happiness. Such a world may be nice to imagine, but it is not the world God sent his Son to save.

As a church we must be more intentional with respect to the arts. Next week I will write on a more hopeful note, about a better theology of and vision for Christian art.

I'm not really sure what to write today... I don't really have the intellectual energy to make an argument for something or even an interesting observation. However, I finally remembered to bring my camera to school so here are a few photos. Today was a different kind of beauty with it's rainy wet greenness, but both kinds of days have reminded me how much I am thankful for spring!



I think I'll also share with you a verse I read earlier in the week that has been on my mind quite a bit:

"Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: She and her daughters were arrogant, overfed and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and needy."
Ezekiel 16:49

Artistry in Time

1400's. B.C. An entire nation (over half a million men) is freed from slavery through a miraculous event remembered as the Passover. In order that the Egyptians might free the Israelite people, God strikes down firstborn son of everyone in Egypt - but passes over the homes of the Israelites, who are 'covered' by the sign of a cross painted on their doorposts with the blood of a sacrificed lamb. (Exodus 12)

This story of the exodus, as well as the giving of the law are some of the most defining and important parts in the history of the people of Israel. Yet something seems incomplete. Israel is a wayward people under God's kingship. Even when God gives them a king, there are problems and eventually they end up in exile. Yet a remnant remains, and Passover is still celebrated (even to this day!).

Even when God dwells among the people at the tabernacle, the people cannot really approach God, who is holy. A huge curtain hides God's earthly presence. Something is still to come. Prophets look forward to it; the people hope.

30 A.D. Hope. Hopes crushed. A man who is also God dies a terrible death on the very day of Passover. Christ becomes the passover lamb, and the justice and holiness of God is satisfied in this sacrifice. The curtain of the temple tears from top to bottom. This time it is not a nation brought out of slavery - this event means freedom for the entire human race. Freedom from sin; freedom to know God.

Yet - the story is not done. Our savior does not leave us to our own devices, morning his loss and trying to live like free people. This man who is also God is resurrected! He lives, and is spirit dwells among us. And he will come again as King.

2010 A.D. Hope. Rejoicing. This is the power of the resurrection. Who could have imagined such a terribly beautiful salvation?

Ultimate Beauty

"You are beautiful beyond description, to marvelous for words" go the words of an old worship song. Yet even if the author of this song felt he could not express God's beauty in words, surely he had some conception of it. This brings me to a question I've pondered for a few years: how do we begin to understand God's beauty to the point where we can honestly love and worship him as beautiful? Put another way: how can we know the part of God's nature which is his beauty?

I have found several answers to this question. First, we can start to understand God's beauty by rejoicing in what he sees as beautiful. God made the world and saw that it was good. All of creation constantly proclaims a god who is not only beautiful, but delights in creating things which are beautiful. Thus the beauty we see in the natural world and in people around us can serve to teach us about God.

Secondly, we can observe and try to understand what we find as beautiful. This is helpful because, since we were made in his image, surely our understanding of beauty must bear some similarities to his. It is helpful to think of him as the perfection of all things beautiful.

Finally, I think we must clarify and enlarge our definition of beauty. Beauty is not something that is only understood with our physical senses - such as a work of art or a piece of music. A physicist will tell you that the elegance of a theory can be beautiful. Wisdom lends beauty to the old. There can be beauty in someone's actions or words. So it is, I think, with God. It is not just his physical manifestations on earth - not even primarily that- but so much of his character which makes him beautiful.

I still do not feel capable of understanding enough of God's beauty to truly express it (in fact words will alone will never be adequate!), but I can testify that it is possible to grow in the knowledge and love of God's infinite beauty.

Swirling golden leaves, wet earth, blue sky.

Bicycling one evening after deep dusk
yellow light from a window spreads itself on the ground
silhouetting a young deer
caught in a fine moment of grace –
and my wheels carry me on.

In the morning I tread on fragile icy grass-sheaths,
in the evening I kick through the leaves
between the bus stop and my door,
wondering at the other moments missed in the relentless pace of day–
and my feet carry me forward

I only noticed on the first snow that summer had come and gone,
tripping along from cherry blossoms to fallen leaves,
and I was strangely sad for canoe paddles that never reached cool lake water
and paints and paper smelling of city and not pine –
and time carries me onward.

I grasp at ideas while thoughts run circles in my head
hopelessly curious of the most insignificant insight
until I take a moment to really stop
and then the thinking is terrifying –
unless it carries me away from self.

Let the Painting Begin!

Visual art. Some of the best art has been historically found in churches, and yet now it is conspicuously absent from much of protestant church life. Many of you who know me will know that this is a subject of great interest and concern for me. Thus, while I know that there is an increasing amount of writing and thinking being done on the subject, I will let this post be an opinion piece, drawn out of my thoughts and experiences.

It has been said that a church is not just a building, but a church building does reflect a lot about a church(see also a previous post). I have been inside so many churches with bare white or brick walls, conservative architecture, and direct lines to the pulpit at the front. The focus is on the spoken word (as taught during the sermon) and, only slightly indirectly, on the written word.

This makes a lot of sense with the birth of the Protestant tradition. The epistemic focus shifted from church authority to individual understanding of the Bible. The beginning of the modern era, so linked to the Reformation, revealed a confidence in the human ability to reason and understand God's word. These things, combined with the break from the traditions of the Catholic church, meant a significant change in the church's attitude toward images.

I am arguing here that the church needs to more consciously and carefully think through its use of images, especially visual art. Intentional change may be needed. First of all, we in the church worship an incredibly creative God! Not only that, but we have been made in his image, and I think creativity is a big part of that. Doesn't it make sense that we should express our exuberant joy in God through the arts? Much of this has been done with music. But why neglect the visual arts?

Many of the most artistically impressive cathedrals were build during a time when your average person could not pick up and read a bible. The art served an important role in helping people understand God and his workings in our world. It is much different now, of course. Or is it?

We live in an image-saturated world. Everywhere we look there is a billboard or a colorful label or a screen. The advertising world has certainly picked up on the power of an image. Children grow up with high visual stimulus through TV and computer screens. Many people, myself included, absorb information much more easily visually than aurally. And sometimes words are quite simply inadequate. Perhaps the church is in need of the arts more than one would think.

I want to close by noting a few of what I would call "successes" or "inspirations" pertaining to art and the church.

• St. Andrew's Ottawa: I was struck during a visit that they had on display the work of an artist who had done these beautiful textile works which included passages of scripture. I just visited their website and noted that they have installed a sculpture outside.
• HTB, London: the prodigal son sculpture, by artist Charlie Mackesy, is a powerful work and features prominently in the church space.
• Orthodox and Catholic churches: I think we need to be willing to learn from them
• Nathan Turner: a Canadian artist I was first introduced to through his show in a local gallery. His work is not always explicitly Christian, but it certainly speaks of his faith.

Thanks for taking the time to read this far. I challenge you to get involved in some way in bringing the visual arts into our protestant churches.

Nathan Turner. "Through The Veil". Charcoal, conte, graphite, gesso on plywood.

Wisdom from Wildflowers

I am back from my little vacation from posting. One of my mini projects this summer has been learning about the wildflowers I see. This has given me a new love and appreciation for them.

I think that knowing the name of something - or someone - is important. I don't feel that I can really begin to know someone until I can call them by name. It's difficult to speak affectionately of a particular place without knowing its name. (On a side note, that is why I wish more people in this country named their houses, as is traditional in the UK.) Speaking God's name is powerful. Naming is vital to knowing and loving.

I'm going to let you experience the delight of being able to name flowers by sharing with you the names of some of the common flower names. The photos were all taken within a few minutes walking distance of my house.


Lady's Thumb
Polygonum persicaria







Bird's-foot Trefoil
Lotus corniculatus







Crown Vetch
coronilla varia







Daisy Fleabane
Erigeron annuus







Spotted Touch-me-not
Impatiens capensis








Chicory
Chicorium intybus







Red Clover
Trifolium pratense







Wild Carrot
Daucus carota
known in Canada, at least, as Queen Ann's Lace






Carolina Larkspur
Delphinium

Encouragement

This post is like a line drawing done while listening to music and without lifting the pen. (You are bright enough to figure out that analogy...)


Encouragement

When you meet friends again after it’s been too long and discover
that though you’ve both been changing
the friendship grows stronger still.

A day or even two go well after a string of downwards-gray days.
It is a gift gratefully received
nearly untouched by the quantity of sunshine.

People different from you are found to be not so different after all
For they delight in the same insignificant thing that matters,
share the same hope.

Someone shares
a story, a meal, a passion, and with trusting openness
lets you see the remarkable person they are

But these things also hold a mirror to my self,
and they breathe hope –
a reminder that plants do grow straight even as the sun circles round
and that slowly they grow upwards.

don't [just] smile at the daisies

I was going to call this post "the Power of Praise", but it sounded like the title of a cliche book, so I didn't. I've been reflecting recently on the role of praise in my life and why it makes such a difference.

Beautiful things are all around us, and I am usually one of those people who walks around noticing that and smiling inwardly to myself or painting about it or writing in blogs about it. This is all well and good and tends to enrich my life, but most of the beauty around us is fragile and transient. And there is a whole lot of pain and ugliness also present in our world. Remembering a beautiful sunrise or the first daisy of the year, perfectly white against grass just new green, is not going to lift my soul when I sit in a dark room or when I listen to the troubles of a friend. The colors of that sunrise have long vanished and the daisy probably got stepped on or wilted when it snowed.

In times like these, I find that my prayers, though they may be desperate pleas, inevitably turn to praise. The psalms declaring who God is weave their way ever more strongly into my prayers until I find myself not just calling out to God, but praising that God because of who he is.

While my rejoicing in good things around me may have helped train me to do this, praising God is ever so much different than just loving good things alone. For God does not change. He is not far away. He is faithfully merciful in the midst of our unfaithfulness. He embraced death because he loves us that much. He is risen!

Have mercy on me, O Lord,
for I call to you all day long.

Bring joy to your servant,
for to you, O Lord,
I lift up my soul.

You are forgiving and good, O Lord,
abounding in love to all who call to you...

For you are great and do marvelous deeds;
you alone are God...

...you, O Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God,
slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.

(Ps. 86v3-5,10,15)

Lent and a Tree

In this season of Lent, I have been feeling this constant balance and tension between repentance and praise. Repentance as we prepare for the Holy week and the second coming of our Lord, and praise springing out of the grace we have received and the awe of God's holiness. There is also praise for the little things, such as the beginnings of spring or the striking beauty of the doubly seen tree in front of the Albright-Knox gallery on Friday, a little thing made even more of a gift because I shared it with friends.

Sacrifice of Praise

As soon as I spoke it I knew
it was one of those words
that drops from my lips
and sinks to the ground
and moves along like dawn mists
as they pool in eddies in the low places.

Unlike the word I could have said
rising to meet the coming light
unassumingly tinted with such glorious hues
that the sleepy soul
cannot help but be stirred
to joy.

Sometimes it is so much easier to say the thing that need not be said, the dull or even selfish thing. How important, yet how much harder, it is to speak that which should be spoken, graceful expressions of thanks or wonder or love or encouragement.

For three years during high school I drove through beautiful countryside at dawn every morning to get to school. Those sunrises over the Grand river, with mists rising from the river and sliding along the ground, making the trees into layers of silhouettes, have been imprinted in my memory and are the inspiration for the imagery of this poem.