Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places

For this Sabbath, a bit of Gerard Manley Hopkins:

— 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. 

I caught a glimpse...

May you too find one of those ten thousand places on this Lord's Day. 

A Blessed Sabbath. 

Amy

Small is truly beautiful

I continue to mull over these lines that I came across today as I read Jean Vanier's The Broken Body in preparation for a Sunday school discussion I am leading on hospitality. I thought immediately of two different friends in two different areas of Wisconsin who are in the early years of planting new churches. I hope if they are reading, they will find encouragement.

But as these words began to sink in, I heard a message for me as well. My world has grown very small in the last five years as a mother. I no longer interact with hundreds of people a day as a I once did; I no longer travel around the country as I once did. Even my ability to get out of the house on a given day is much more limited with 3 young children! This has been something that has been frustrating to me at times--I had bought into the idea that doing big things, public things, things that paid good money were what made life meaningful and without the big things life was suffocating. Vanier suggests seeing the small as the necessary way to be bonded in love and to belong in community. This has led me to ponder these words then not just for small churches but our small family:



It is sometimes difficult
in communities which are small
and where only a few broken people seem to receive life
to believe that it all has meaning.
There is something in us all
which thinks that 'big is beautiful'.
We feed we must do big things,
strike at the source of evil and not the symptoms,
do good on a large scale
welcome and save more and more people,
organize things,
propagate a message all over the world,
write books,
speak on television.
But the more we do this,
the more we risk losing the essential,
uprooting ourselves from the bonds of love;
thus we begin to die.

The basis of true human life,
is a rooting in the earth,
faithful relationships,
fidelity to those to whom we are bonded in love,
carrying one another's burdens,
sharing with them their joy and their pain.
It is compassion and forgiveness.
Small is truly beautiful.
Jesus spent thirty gentle, loving years
with Joseph and Mary,
teaching us about rooting, about a sense of belonging,
and forming community.
Nazareth is our school of life
teaching us
to live humbly in the presence of God,
to work with our hands,
to welcome people as they are
     with their gifts and their hurts,
to walk in truth,
to open our hearts to people and to nature.

And it will be from there,
from fidelity and love
for those with whom we are called to live,
that we might be called to stand firm
against insolent might and power structures;
called also to the struggle
to help each person find
their rightful place in society and in the Church,
and the space in which to grow.
It will be from there that each of us,
according to our call and our gift,
will become an agent of change and of love
for the whole society. (p. 137-138)


Blessings to those of you that are currently in the school of Nazareth. May you find the place you are rooting, though small, is truly beautiful.

“He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither.” – Psalm 1:3a (ESV)

“HOPE is the Thing With Feathers: Reflections in the Aftermath of Earthquake in Haiti.”

She walked in and peered over her father’s shoulder before he noticed. Little eyes are watching always even when we aren’t.

She sees an image on the computer screen of the aftermath in Haiti—an image of sadness, not grotesque but painful still.

Without television, we’ve been able to protect them from so much. There are no advertisements, pressure to want more and more and more. There are no models of families, dysfunctional and broken, disrespect and sarcasm common. There are no models of a beauty that is unrealistic and vapid though enticing all the same. Our little ones (5, 3, and 1) know little of the harsh world.

Instead, we have books, feasts, puzzles, fairies, playsilks, superheroes, saints, games, each other. We create a culture of true beauty and life, where good triumphs bad, where love abounds. But there is a world out there that does not recognize or value the Good—places where evil has its day, times when natural forces are too much for humankind.

And since a parent must not only protect but prepare, father explains to his 5 year old girl in simple words the truth, no more than she need hear, but the truth all the same. She pauses and flits away. And I, baby with ear infection on hip and a mountain-load of dishes and laundry, hardly notice the exchange.

I send the “big kids” outside. With all the difficulties of late, I need peace. Out the window I watch them run free and sure. I work to the sounds of shouts and laughter. But I am preoccupied, and so when husband lets them back inside, red-cheeked and cold, I don’t think twice when sweet girl goes quickly upstairs.

She comes down again with a dime and nickel in hand to tell me, “I want to give my money to the poor… I’ve made them decorations.” I now am running out the door and so take little time to understand her reference to those in Haiti. “That’s good honey,” I lamely encourage when she continues, “I want to love, mommy; I want to be a saint.”

Decorations. The only word in her vocabulary to describe what I later find when I’m finally able to return to my bedroom at the end of a tiring day, hours after the house has long been asleep.

Decorations.

A scattering of bird feathers. No, not a scattering, feathers brought in from outside, carefully placed and arranged all over my bedroom carpet. It was horrific and beautiful all at once. It looked like a massacre. It looked like art.

What is it about suffering that has driven so many to write, to paint, to sculpt? Not just those who do it up pretty, but those who attempt to face the pain head on and bring healing, beauty, and life when they do.

A friend’s response to the devastation in Haiti was words, “Whispers, A Poem for Haiti” (full text below). Chaz Howard, a UPenn grad with MDiv and PhD, now a Chaplain, knows how to write what my daughter cannot express, still his theme is similar to hers. One said in words, the other with feathers:

“Buildings have been grounded, but the people of Ayiti, by God's grace, will always fly…”

It is me, caught up in a world I’ve created, who needs to hear their words of hope, concern, and conviction:

5 year old:

“I want to help… I want to love… I want to be a saint…Here is my money…Here are my decorations.”

And poet:

"I was not loving my neighbors as myself...I was just loving myself." I whisper.



Love says, "It is never too late to love.

Love is more than sharing money.

Love is sharing tears,

Love is sharing time,

Love is sharing yourself.

Go and Love."



Love whispers from the other side, "Go and Love."

Yes, I attempt much to create a culture of life and beauty and love in our home, but how often do I miss what is right before my eyes? And, on the other hand, how often, in this attempt for family culture, do I just love myself and my family and our home and am callous to a suffering world which Christ has come to redeem?

Again the poet:

The voice of Love whispers from the other side,

"Remember that I said, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'

Go and Love.


The poem in its entirety:


"Whispers" A Poem for Haiti
by Chaz Howard






Toussaint L'overture whispers from the other side,


"The media does not know Haiti.


All they can say of us is, 'They are the poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere...'


They say, 'The city is destroyed...The nation is crippled.'


But they forget that a city is not made up of buildings, but it is made up of souls.


That a nation is not simply just land, but rather that a nation is made up of those who walk and live upon that land.


Our National Cathedral has crumbled - but our spirit is still alive.


Our Presidential Palace has fallen - but the Haitian flag has not hit the ground."










Jean-Jacques Dessalines whispers from the other side,


"Pat Robertson does not know Haiti.


He does not know of the courage God gave us to fight for our freedom.


He does not know of the God-given love it takes to risk one's life so that her or his children might live without chains.


He does not know of this rich culture that has blessed the world.


He forgets that without Haiti, there would be fewer stars on his nation's flag."






The voice of Love whispers from the other side,


"Remember that I said, 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'






And I reply, "What can I do to help Lord?"






"Why did you not ask that last week? Or last month? Or last year? Help was certainly needed then." Love asks.










"I was not loving my neighbors as myself...I was just loving myself." I whisper.






Love says, "It is never too late to love.


Love is more than sharing money.


Love is sharing tears,


Love is sharing time,


Love is sharing yourself.


Go and Love."






Love whispers from the other side, "Go and Love."






Perhaps there is a message in the fact that while other things have been destroyed, the airport was not. Buildings have been grounded, but the people of Ayiti, by God's grace, will always fly. Go and love! 

Good Reads: Our Children's Poetry List Winter 2009

I grew up with poetry: my grandfather quoting it; my mother writing her own; memorizing it in school; a 4th grade teacher reading us "The Cremation of Sam McGee" for good behavior. But it wasn't until I started teaching poetry to AP students and then adults that I grew to love it. It wasn't just that I was forced to learn it and help others understand it, that helped, but more because I was then able to see poetry's ability to speak to so many different human experiences in such a simple yet profound ways.

A turn of phrase, an apt metaphor, a broken rhythm...brought forth rich discussion in class and food for thought long after the class was over. So often my own experiences are better understood in the light of poetry and I've started to enjoy writing in lines (here and here) rather than straight prose.

So reading poetry with my children is also becoming a part of our day. We've started reading poetry right before nap time. It calms them down but is short enough, they always are asking for more.


Here are the three anthologies we're reading right now:

The Green Tiger's Illustrated Mother Goose. We spend time pouring over the beautiful illustrations from over 100 artists dating from the 1880s to the 1940s in this wonderful edition I found at a used bookstore. It also maintains the older language so its syntax and vocabulary are much more interesting.

It's so easy to think of Mother Goose only for the very young but Nursery Rhymes build an ear for language and rhyme, increase musical and rhythmic awareness, aid memory, build phonemic awareness and even develop math skills. Many of the poems are just fun but others teach moral lessons.

Although the older editions are more complex, I have found that since the children already know the nursery rhymes so well that the complexity helps them learn more about the art of reading poetry.

The Complete Book of Flower Fairies by Cecily Barker

The children are smitten with this beautiful anthology of fairies of the trees and flowers. Each poem has an enchanting illustration of the fairy and a realistic depiction of the flower, leaf, or fruit. The poems are sweet, humorous, and thought-provoking, containing elements which actually teach the children a bit about the flower or tree. We're working our way through the Alphabet Fairies (which you could buy separately as its own book). The poems have led to imaginative play, tree and flower identification, and a deeper appreciation of nature. When an acorn drops they wonder if it is a fairy; they are quiet around Willow Trees, hoping to gain a glimpse; when our yard was filled with clover, they spent a good deal of time looking for the clover fairy! The book has a companion CD of the poems put to music and a wonderful coloring book. I hope to post more about our love of fairies soon!

The Ambleside Collection of Poetry. An online collection of over 200 classic poems for children arranged by month and season. I've printed and placed them in a binder. I also print a few to place on our seasonal bulletin board that has the children's art work and seasonal pictures. I pick and choose from the collection a few days a week. If the poem is too difficult for the children I encourage them just to sit back and enjoy the sounds of the words rolling together and ask what they heard, rather than forcing it.

Hope you're inspired to read poetry! Love to hear of other ways you've introduced poetry to your children and your favorite collections!

Two links on beauty

Two links on beauty one for surrounding ourselves with beauty in our day and the other for seeing it in ourselves.

Check out Anna Kocher

Anna Kocher, who I interviewed during Holy Week, has been featured on Her.meneutics, the Christianity Today Blog for Women! Hope you'll check it out.

Congrats Anna!

Way of the Cross-Interview with Anna Kocher Part 4

Jesus body is removed from the cross

What role do you think art has in the church?
I could go on for ages about this and never really get to it. Probably the most significant thing for me is that God created us in His image. The fact that He created us, and that we're somehow like Him, means that it's a part of our identity and a part of his intent for us that we be creative as well. I guess art is meant to communicate God's nature to one another, to worship Him, and to express and reveal the truth about ourselves and life itself, and in so doing get down to the heart of the matter, which for me is Christ. There are so many different ways of going about all of these things so I hesitate to limit it. I would hope that art in the church would be seen the same way something like accounting might be seen: necessary. It shouldn't be glorified over other gifts or modes of expression, but it should be used and supported as one of the many necessary parts of the body. I would also say that I think we need to be careful of putting heavy parameters around the ways we worship or enter into and articulate our faith. We shouldn't say that we learn and we sing and we maybe look at a painting or two on the wall and that's the extent of our interaction with God and church and our spiritual lives. There are myriad ways to express and communicate with God and one another and we should attempt to do that authentically ourselves and to create space for those around us to do so as well. What would the church be if it wasn't just the preachers preaching, the musicians doing the music, maybe an artist or craftsperson contributing something here or there, but everyone bringing the offering of themselves and their unique insights and abilities and expressions to the church body and to God? That would be exciting.

Do you think there is such a thing as Christian art? Do you hope your works will be defined this way?
I think anyone who is a Christian and creates art that comes from deep inside of them, art that is hard-won and not just trite and thoughtless, is making Christian art. I think you can have paintings that are of Christian themes or images that aren't really helpful or valuable. As long as "Christian art" means legitimate artwork created by an authentic Christian person, I would hope that my work would be defined that way. If "Christian art" means stereotypical, tired pictures of the same old thing created without any conviction or integrity (which is, unfortunately, what a lot of people expect) then I would hope to avoid such a categorization.

Who are your favorite artists? Any Christian artists?
Kathe Kollwitz, Cy Twombly, Alice Neel, Wayne Theibaud, Georgio Morandi, Caravaggio, Jenny Saville, Jerome Witkin (I believe he may be a Christian...) and too many others to mention. Christian artists would be Bruce Herman, Makoto Fujimura, Ed Knippers

If you are interested in Christian art, visit WhiteStoneGallery, specializing in contemporary art expressing faith.

If you missed the introduction to the Way of the Cross and artist Anna Kocher, click here!

Way of the Cross-Interview with Anna Kocher Part 3

Jesus is nailed to the cross

How did you decide to be an artist? Where and with whom did you study? What has been your inspiration?

I've always drawn and at the end of high school received a lot of encouragement from teachers to pursue art in college, but basically disregarded it as being "impractical." I went to Gordon College with the intent of studying psychology, but was not at all satisfied and very much missed art. I met with the head of the art department, Bruce Herman, to see if I could maybe take one class (at that time only those with majors or minors declared in art were able to take courses in the department) and by the end of the conversation we both knew that that's what I needed to be studying. I went for a walk in the woods afterwards and remember feeling so grateful that God had made it so clear to me, because I'm not the kind of person for whom things are usually clear. I was also able to do a semester as a visiting student at Temple University and a semester studying Renaissance art in Italy.
Bruce Herman was my adviser and mentor and his perspective on the relationship between Christianity and art and also on the human body have probably been the most influential things to me in my development as an artist. George Wingate and Cherith Lundin were also incredible teachers. Having not intended to study art, I really stumbled into the ideal place. Gordon is actually now the headquarters for CIVA [Christians in the Visual Arts] so to have wound up studying art there "accidentally" was rather fortuitous.

Christ dies

For all the moms who want to pursue their talents in writing, theater, music [you know who you are!], when do you find time to paint? Is it difficult to turn your passion on and off around nap schedules and all your other mom duties?!

It has definitely been difficult finding time to paint with two little ones. I see this time of life as a time of hanging on. I sometimes start to get discouraged and feel like I'm not being productive enough, but ultimately if I'm painting regularly, even if it's only once or twice a week, and feeling like I'm forging ahead, if slowly and painfully, in both what I'm trying to express and in my ability to express it, that is success for me right now. During the year after my son was born I felt like I would never paint again. Even if I did get the time I didn't have the energy or the inspiration or anything I needed to be able to do it. But after a year I was able to go back to it and gradually expand and expand until my daughter was born. After that I had another dry spell. The second time around I was more able to see it as a period of dormancy rather than death. I look forward to having more time to really pursue the ideas that excite me, but I don't want to spend this time of having little kids always feeling like I should be doing something else, no matter what I'm doing. I know that eventually have more time and energy and that all this time I've spent becoming a mother and nurturing my kids will enrich my understanding of myself and life in general which will, in turn, enrich my work. In the meantime, I just need to give enough to my painting to allow it to stay a living thing and not let that part of me die out completely.
My family, including my mother-in-law, my husband, and my mom, have been really supportive, have taken me seriously, and at times intervened to make sure I get uninterrupted time to work, because there's only so much you can do when you have kids on different nap and school schedules, or not napping at all, and when you still have to somehow keep clean clothes and nutritious food coming! I do think that I am a much deeper person than I used to be as a result of having kids. My capacities for both pain and joy have been increased, sometimes beyond what I think I can bear, and I know that when I eventually get a little more space in my life to work it will come out in the paintings and allow me to tap into places in myself I was unable to access before I was a mother.

Way of the Cross-Interview with Anna Kocher Part 2

Jesus takes up His cross

The inclusion of text in these paintings is very powerful. How did you make that choice?

I first started using text in my work when I was involved in a Christian artistic collaborative. We would meet periodically to discuss and critique one another's work and encourage one another in both living out our faith through our work and in creating work that pushed the limits of our abilities and of tradition. The Church of the Good Samaritan, in another display of gracious and surprising support for the artists and for me in particular, agreed to allow us to do a show in a very large, central hall in the church. This was an even more generous gesture because my work was by far the most traditional of the group. We had artists working with found objects, creating installation pieces, and working in very abstract styles.

For the show we decided to all read one piece of literature and then do work inspired by the reading, hoping that it would give the show a sense of unity in spite of our styles being very disparate. We chose Notes from Underground by Dostoevsky. I found myself incorporating words from the book in my paintings and drawings. It was a nice connection for me because I have always been very drawn to literature but always saw it as something distinct from art. That project allowed me to see it as something that can enrich visual representation in the same way that graphic novels allow visual representation to enrich a story. The nice thing about postmodernism is that it allows you to have a much broader toolbox to draw from in attempting to express a concept. You're no longer limited to the narrow range of your particular discipline.
Another thing I thought a lot about in creating the paintings was Christ as "word made flesh." The body, or the flesh, is something that I'm irresistibly drawn to in my work and I am so excited by the idea that Jesus was a physical, bloody, dirty human body, but also the Word of God breathed into the history of humanity. I certainly believe there's power in the actual words of the Bible and so I wanted to include them in the paintings themselves.


Jesus falls

My husband thinks the artwork is very emotionally powerful due to the thick lines and hoped you'd talk about that...

I guess I tend to use thick lines. When I was a kid I would always look at my friends' coloring pages and be impressed and envious at how they could manage to color so lightly and consistently and to stay inside the lines. I would try to start out that way, but halfway through I would be pressing the crayon so hard and bursting outside the lines again. It was frustrating as a child, but I guess it's found its purpose.

I think the thick lines in the Stations were also a way of expressing the power of the subject. I have no patience for the effeminate, powerless images of Jesus you see so often. The bold lines, for me, were a way for me to drive home the violence and brutality of the story and the strength of the Character.

I also lean on the bold outlines much more in my "nouveau iconography" work than in my other work because they are a way of communicating that this is the way I envision the story, but that it's not actually "from life" in the way that a portrait or something might be. It somehow seems to me to be a way of reaffirming that the picture is a tool to direct the gaze to the truth of the story, but that the image is not, itself, true.




If you missed the introduction to the Way of the Cross and artist Anna Kocher, click here!

Way of the Cross-Interview with artist Anna Kocher Part 1

Christ is Condemned to Death

Anna, please share with us the history of the creation of these amazing paintings.

The Stations of the Cross, or Way of the Cross, is something that I first encountered at a convent called the Instituto de San Lodovico while studying art in Orvieto, Italy through Gordon College. We visited many different churches while we were there and were interested to see the Stations included in the permanent ornamentation of the sanctuaries. I was also able to participate in a Way of the Cross service at the small parish I was attending in the hill town of Orvieto. We met at the church around nightfall walked through the town by torchlight, pausing to remember the different moments of Christ's journey to the cross and to say the appropriate prayers. It was a group of 50-60 people in the most amazing landscape I've ever experienced, and the whole thing was very moving. It's the tradition of the program I was involved in to do a collaborative piece to be left as a gift for the nuns in the convent and the group my semester did bas relief sculptures of each of the traditional 14 Stations, with each student creating one individual Station within an agreed-upon format.

When I returned to the States and began attending the Church of the Good Samaritan, they were very open to the inclusion of artwork in worship in a way I hadn't experienced at other American churches. My husband was for a long time the worship leader of the contemporary service at the church, and he and the priest responsible for the service had made a big point of including many different artistic disciplines in their service. They were the first ones to ask me to do a series based on the Stations of the Cross. I did a series of oil paintings of hands, which were meant to be the hands of Jesus, in different positions that, to me, expressed the different stations. They started in black and white and gradually had more red introduced the closer you got to the actual crucifixion.

The paintings themselves were really not very good, and thankfully I had another opportunity to engage with the subject after having honed my style a bit more. The church always does a Way of the Cross service for children on Good Friday and the director of children's ministries commissioned me to do the most recent series of Stations for the service. I think they were a little stunned when they saw the actual paintings. I had tried to bear in mind, through their creation, that they were intended for a children's service; but it was a depiction of an execution, so there was only so much I could do to tone it down. They did use them for the service, but also realized that they could be used for the wider congregation as well since they weren't strictly "children's art."

Christ is Stripped

Tell us about your style. What is your hope in using this look with very traditional images?


I'm not really sure what I would call my style. When I do work like this, based on scripture or Biblical characters, I tend to think of it as being "nouveau iconography." I don't think that's an actual term, but it's what goes through my mind.
My general hope for my style is that it would subvert the kind of easy imagery that allows you to take for granted that you know the story and what it means. When the way we depict a story gets so old and stale that we know what the images will look like before we even see them it allows the story to become old and stale as well. I try to think around the stereotypical and dig into what seems real to me.


How would you advise people to use these paintings? As art, inspiration, meditation, prayer tools, all of the above?

I would say all of the above. The beautiful thing about art is that so much of its significance is given by the viewer. The artist creates it, but it will mean something different to everyone who experiences it.
If you missed the introduction to the Way of the Cross and artist Anna Kocher, click here!

Also, to see more of Anna's art, check out her website.

Introduction to the Way of the Cross and Interview with artist Anna Kocher

The Way of the Cross has been a part of Christian tradition since the Crusades as Pilgrims set out to follow along the path walked by Jesus carrying the cross to Golgotha. It may be used for private devotion or corporate meditation, with reflections at each stop. Our church is having a Way of the Cross service for children on Good Friday and I am eager for us all to attend.

The first Sunday when the Stations, large original paintings, were displayed around the Church of the Good Samaritan I found them so striking and was amazed to hear they were done by Anna Kocher, who actively serves at the church, along with her husband Steve and their 2 children.

I wanted to find out more about her work and the paintings and so begged her for an interview for the blog. For thousands of years the church has supported the arts so I hope you enjoy getting a glimpse into her work. My hope is just hearing from a woman who has been able to do what she loves and share her gifts while being a mom of young ones and actively serving the church will inspire you!

Anna, who graduated from Gordon College, has exhibited locally at the Art Scene Gallery in West Chester, PA at the Phoenix Village Art Center in Phoenixville, PA and has been included in juried exhibitions at various venues including the Fine Arts People Gallery in Exton, PA and the Center Art Gallery at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

Anna completed all of the paintings during one season of Lent: “I had a one-year-old at the time, so any time I got to paint was spent furiously working to stretch and prime canvases and to paint.” She explains that the “project turned into a very profound Lenten discipline for me and allowed me to experience and interact with the story of the death and resurrection of Jesus in a very new way.”

A Way of the Cross Service can allow the story of Christ’s death and resurrection to become fresh and powerful. If you are in the Philadelphia area, I encourage you to stop in for one of our Holy Week Services and see the art in person. But for the rest of you, here is the pdf of prayers to go along with the paintings, perhaps you might want to use them for private devotion during the week or on Good Friday.

Also, to see more of Anna's art, check out her website.