Friday, January 23, 2015

Number One



Paper Cutout Collage


...and so this year in my on-going journey with art officially begins. 

Above is the first piece of art I have completed in 2015. It is a combination of paper cutout and collage. I made it as a birthday present for a dear friend who is enamored with the color red. I haven't actually used color in many of my cutouts - only 3 prior to this piece - but thought it would be a good change of pace to challenge myself. I quite enjoyed the challenge and am still pondering the outcome.

...and now moving on to number two.

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Empty Sanctuary



Empty Sanctuary

At heart, I'm just a room
sitting each day, waiting.
For breakfast
I eat sunshine as it streams through my windows.
I buzz with the echoes of presence
that linger when all are gone.
I rejoice when you return
to sing, to preach, to pray, to play.
These sounds and spirits
joys and concerns
bounce off my walls and settle in my belly.
I hold them as a precious treasure
and every morning offer them to the sun.


Saturday, November 16, 2013

Thoughts After the Sermon



Last week I had the opportunity to preach on the story in Genesis 32:22-31 that recounts Jacob wrestling with God.  I have often found myself thinking of this story when I am up in the middle of the night unable to sleep because of something stirring in my spirit.  I know I am not alone in remembering this story in those restless middle of the night times, or in other moments of struggle in life.  As I was preparing to write my sermon I was reading all sorts of blog posts and commentaries on this story and finding many different angles from which to look at the story.  What direction would my sermon take?  I realized that this is generally the case with preparing a sermon.  A lot of time, energy, patience, and research goes into preparing to write a sermon. During that time of preparation you start to get an inkling of what direction it is going and then, when the actual sermon comes together, it can take a totally different path than originally expected.  I am never quite sure if the sermon becomes what it does because that is the message that is somehow the right message for the week (and context) at hand, or if it is simply the result of necessary editing in the creative process.  Whichever the case, the end result generally leaves me with a selection of outtakes and idea scraps on the cutting room floor that continue to bumble around in my head and heart feeling unresolved or perhaps sowing seeds for future sermons. 

This past week was no exception.  In particular I am left with some lingering and unexplored thoughts on a painting by Paul Gauguin in 1888 entitled: Vision After the Sermon, or Jacob Wrestling with the Angel.  


Vision after the sermon | Paul Gauguin | 1888
Paul Gauguin | Vision After the Sermon | 1888 | Scottish National Gallery
As an associate pastor I have the opportunity to preach once a month, so shortly after preaching my sermon in October, I immediately started thinking about preaching in November.  As I often mention, I like to be on the lookout for connections between art and theology and I have had a good time in the past finding ways to incorporate visual art or art technique commentary into my sermons.  I haven't taken the chance to do that in my recent sermons so I thought perhaps November would be a good time to bring an art example back into the sermon.  I mentioned this to Becky, my personal librarian, and once I had nailed down the text I was working with she started looking for some visual images to help inspire me.  The image above is one that she found and sent to me in my time of exploration and sermon preparation.  As is prone to happen, the sermon took a different course and didn't end up including any references to this piece of art, or any other this time, but I am still pondering it after the fact.   

I really like this painting for several reasons.  First, it is not a traditional representation of the story of Jacob wrestling with the angel.  Typical images of this story are bold and predominantly feature the interlocked bodies of Jacob and the angel, either with or without clothing and usually in a moment of intense struggle, both of them (or at least Jacob) with muscles bulging from the strain of the intensity of the match.  There is a lot to be gleaned from those types of representations of this story and I am certain I could spend time learning from them, but this image is such a strikingly different approach that I am drawn to exploring it this week.  This image is bold in a different way.  It is bold in color, composition, and content.  

At the forefront of the image we see a gathering of people, mostly women with head coverings, praying together.  The women's head gear looks familiar to me, as if these are a group of conservative Mennonites gathered together and my heart warms at the thought.  I am innately drawn to images of women in head coverings because it reminds me of the historical tradition in the Mennonite church of women wearing head coverings as a symbol of commitment to their faith practice.  While I am grateful that my current Mennonite community does not place primacy on that practice, there is familiarity with the idea of head coverings (including memories of my grandmothers and great-grandmothers in a variety of graceful and yet utilitarian head coverings) and so I am drawn into the image, eager to see what is going on with this group of people gathered together. 

It is only off in the distance that we catch a glimpse of the wrestling match. There is a distinct contrast between the bright white of the head coverings in the foreground and the deep red that leads our eyes over to the two figures wrestling in the corner of the composition. This painting is not solely about the struggle between Jacob and the angel, this painting is about human response to the story. Gauguin himself did not see this painting as representational of a real scene, but instead considered it an abstract painting saying, "for me in this painting, the landscape and the fight exist only in the imaginations of the people praying after the sermon." This then is not a painting about Jacob at all, but is instead a painting about us reflecting on the story of Jacob wrestling with God and praying for insight and meaning in our own lives.

This is another reason I like this painting, for me it speaks to the experiences available to us when we spend time with scripture and story reflecting on it and opening ourselves up to finding meaning and insight.  This is what is involved in preparing to write a sermon, spending time with scripture, letting it roll around in one's head and heart, looking at it from different angles, while also using it to look at the outside world in different ways.  I am always surprised by what I experience when I sit with a scripture, a thought, or poem for a period of time because inevitably things come to the surface in my living that surprisingly relate to it and allow me, or challenge me, to approach those things in new ways.  This is why I believe that scripture is a living word, because it is something we can actively live with and when we do, it actively engages us back transforming our thinking and vision and living with us.

I know this is part of the reason that there always seem to be leftover thoughts after writing a sermon.  There are so many ways to live and scripture can speak to all of those ways in different times and with different voices.  In a sermon, the focus is narrowed and only a small bit of the insight available is able to shine through in that moment and the rest is left for another time or another place.  It is a gift for me to be able to have the opportunity to sit with scripture as part of my work life, but it is also something I do outside of sermon writing as part of my personal faith life.  The ability of scripture to impact our living and thinking isn't only something for preachers to practice and then tell others about during sermons, it is an opportunity available to everyone, all the time.  As a preacher, one hopes that a sermon may inspire a moment of reflection or insight here and there, but it would be just as exciting for me to know that people around me are getting and taking the chance to sit with scripture on their own, seeing things around them in new ways and letting it inform their living in unexpected ways.      

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Sunday, January 13, 2013

A Flood of Light

Epiphany Reflections for Hyattsville Mennonite Church, January 6, 2013  
Scripture Reference Matthew 2:1-12

We have made it, once again, through another holiday season.  We have come through the watching and waiting that is the season of advent, through the warm glow of lights decorating houses, through the cheesy and meaningful songs of the season, through unexpected tragedies, through heart warming moments of memory and the heart wrenching moments of loneliness that seem to pervade this season. Through all of this we have been carried along by the flood of God’s mercy. 

This flood has carried us to Epiphany – a celebration that draws to a close the 12 days of Christmas and highlights for us the visitation of the Magi (Wise Ones) to Bethlehem.  Epiphany is about a different kind of flood – a flood of light from a star.   A star that inspires a journey, points the way along the path and finally hovers over a specific place affirming to the travelers that, indeed, the journey has not been in vain – they have found the Holy.

Many years ago I worked on a series of collages called Looking for God in which I was trying to figure out how to show bits of the Holy that exist in things that are not traditionally thought of as religious – everyday things.  In particular I focused on things that members of my family were doing that might have been Holy experiences for them in order to expand my own understanding of how we all interact with and encounter God in different ways.  The basic structure of each image was the same – it was a small cutout image of the back of a kid wearing a baseball hat looking out onto an image that represented where I was looking for God.  I made one for each of my immediate family members.  One of my sister’s was studying theatre at the time so her image was the kid looking at a script for a play.  My father’s was the most religiously literal as it looked at a steeple because of his calling as a pastor I associate him with churches.  For my mother the child was looking at a mailbox because she was in the midst of reading through a lifetime’s worth of collected letters that her mother had written in preparation to translate them into a memoir.  For Becky it was a cup of coffee because she has long believed in the presence of the holy in moments of taking a break and communing with others over coffee.  And for my brother-in-law it was a football end zone because he enjoys the history and continuing drama of college football.  There were others, but this gives you an idea of what I was going for, I was stepping outside of my own experiences and understandings of where God was found and learning that God is found in many different and unexpected places because the world is full of many different people, cultures and communities and yet God is in relationship with us all.

The visitation of the wise ones is another exploration of this diversity.  It is a story about the outpouring of God’s promises into the world in and beyond the borders of the Jewish community.  It is the sharing of Christ with the whole world.  Here is a caravan of people from the East, without immediate connection to the Jewish community, who take note that something special is at work within that community and they want to be a part of it.   And as outsiders, when they need help on their journey, they go to Herod – the political leader of the day – not the leaders of the religious community.  Herod, in this moment, plays mediator and consults with the religious leaders and brings further directions back to the strangers.  Herod sends them on their way towards Bethlehem with a request that they return the favor of this gift of information by coming back and letting him know where they end up finding the child so that he too may go and pay tribute. 

However, as in any good drama, there are different motivations in play for Herod and the Wise Ones.  Herod, who is primarily concerned about how this new king may impede on his earthly territory and power, is willing to sit back and wait for the Magi to do the work of looking for the child, he is not willing to engage in the journey. The Magi, on the other hand, are all about the journey.  They are on a quest that is not about gaining or retaining earthly riches but is about following a star that they believe points towards a significant event and they have come to offer gifts of earthly riches and homage to whatever may be found at the end of that journey.

And what they find at the end of that journey is an epiphany.  Epiphany, by definition, is a manifestation, a striking appearance or from the ancient Greek a Theophany – a vision of God.  The Matthew story has all of it.  Jesus’ birth is a manifestation; it is the mysterious incarnation of Immanuel - God with us.  The star itself must have been a striking appearance in order to move a group of people to action– and these were astrologers – people who studied the stories and signs of the stars all the time and yet something about this star was striking enough to move them to take a journey of faith to an unknown place and seek out whatever that star was pointing to.   And once they arrived and laid eyes on the child - it was an experience and vision of God.   A vision that was only received because they were willing to step out and take the journey; they followed a sign that pointed the way, asked for help when they needed it, and above all they just kept looking.

We too must keep looking for God.  Even as this focused season of waiting and watching comes to an end there will continue to be signs of Christ’s presence available to us to notice and follow if we so choose.   In the Eastern Orthodox tradition the Epiphany celebration focuses on Jesus’ baptism and the manifestation of his ministry.  In the Anabaptist tradition, we elect baptism as a sign that we have chosen to take a journey of faith.  We have accepted the call to live out that journey in whatever forms it takes.  Part of choosing faith is choosing to continue to seek. 

And the reward for seeking is finding.  When the star finally came to a rest over the house of Jesus in Bethlehem the Magi were overjoyed for they had finally arrived at the place to which they had been lead – they went into the house and there they found Mary and Jesus and they fell to the ground in worship and honor.  If we continue on the journey we get to encounter God and when we recognize that a moment of encounter is at hand we are transported.

This congregation has been transported this year, in spiritual and physical ways.  One of the big journeys has been the remodeling of our home church building and when we needed a temporary home during construction, a star on our path hovered over this space, and we have met God here.  We, like the wise ones, have offered ourselves and our gifts in worship and in return we have been blessed.  Very soon our time of visitation will be over and we will take the road back to our own home, like the wise ones, we will return home by a different path because we and our home have been changed by this time of transition and the journey we are on now is a new branch of the path full of stars pointing us towards a multitude of new encounters with God.   

Encounters that we will surely find if we keep seeking; encounters like those moments when even something small takes you by surprise and you are instantly transported out the mundane and into the Holy – it can be caused by anything, because God is in everything - a glimpse of a sunset, a kind word, a discomfort around injustice, a cup of coffee, the sight of a familiar space remodeled, a new friend, a connection not previously made now understood.  In each of these moments there is that flood of light washing over you, it is the epiphany experience, a glimpse of God, and perhaps if you were to look up there just may be a star hovering overhead.    

Sketching Camels

Pencil Sketch

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Advent - Movement and Action

It is December again. The cyclical calendar makes December a natural time for drawing things to a close and looking back over what has made up the past year while beginning to turn and look ahead to what may be awaiting in the New Year. It is also advent - a time, in the Christian tradition, of waiting, expectation and reflection on the meaning of the Christmas season and the events of a story that is a fundamental building block of Christian faith. Advent is a time to reflect on that story and relate to it in our current contexts so that we can take part in a meaningful way in the outpouring of joy on the world that continues to take place through God’s ceaseless expressions of love and grace.

This year the Mennonite Church had a theme for the advent season entitled “Flood of Mercy”. The idea behind this theme was to spend the season reflecting on the water imagery in the seasonal scriptures and pondering the nature of God to both comfort and disturb. To help visually set a scene for this worship theme I created the banner below of two swirls of water pouring down upon an empty and waiting stable.

In these swirls I see movement, comfort, and agitation. I look at them as a physical manifestation of God’s activity in our lives. It is constantly present and available to us if we seek it and let it be poured into our lives. It will sweep us up and carry us along when we need to be moved. It will prod us to action, or at least gently wear us down, when we try to stand still in the middle of the current. And, when needed, it pulls us close to the center and cocoons us in a still embrace in the midst of turbulence. God’s energy is present and always active in meeting us where we are and moving us to where we need to be.

As December draws to a close, may we continue to be aware of where we have been, where we are, and what is coming and may we continue to wait upon, expect, and reflect on the action of God in our lives.