Matthew 22.39: Neighbors and Fences

Leviticus 19:18 and Matthew 22:39 say the same thing: Love your neighbor as yourself. A friend once told me that she "translates" that verse to mean that we should love for our neighbor what we love for ourselves. That's a different thing isn't it? More concrete than just assuring oneself and the world that we have warm fuzzy feelings for everyone because we're good people. When we love a luxury car for ourselves, but we love a 1978 Pinto for our neighbor...well, that's not exactly the same thing, is it?

Robert Frost's poem "Mending Wall" is often quoted in discussions of neighbors. One line of the poem is most often pulled out: Good fences make good neighbors. The idea is that neighbors will get along better when there is a clear boundary between what's mine and what's yours and you stay on your side and I'll stay on mine. Frost's poem is a conversation between two neighbors. It is the neighbor who insists - twice - that good fences make good neighbors. The narrator's voice asks why they make good neighbors. Sure, you would need a wall where there are cows - to keep them contained and not wandering into a field with neighbor cows or a neighbor's pasture grass spread out like a salad bar for cows. But where there aren't cows? Why build a fence? The narrator continues:

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know

What I was walling in or walling out,

And to whom I was like to give offense.

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,

That wants it down.

Artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude had a different idea with their project Running Fence. The project was begun in 1972 and completed in 1976. The actual project was installed for two weeks and then taken down, leaving no reminders of its presence. 

(Top photo) Christo and Jeanne-Claude. Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California, 1972-76. Photo: Wolfgang Volz. © 1976 Christo. (Bottom photo) Christo and Jeanne-Claude. Running Fence, Sonoma and Marin Counties, California, 1972-76. Photo: Jeanne-Claude. © 1976 Christo. 

The project was a 24.5 mile long, 18 feet tall "fence" of nylon fabric panels hung from steel cable between steel poles. The artists battled every step of the way. The 18 public hearings were contentious. They had 3 sessions in California superior courts. It wasn't easy to get permission from all of the 59 ranchers whose land was crossed. They wrote and filed a 450-page environmental impact statement. Over and over they heard that this piece was not art. Christo agreed, or agreed that the fence itself wasn't the whole of the art. Quoted in Brian O’Doherty’s Christo and Jeanne-Claude, Christo asserted, “The work is not only the fabric, the steel poles and the Fence. The art project is right now
here. Everybody here is part of my work if they want it or don’t want it.”

The artists intended for this fence to bring people together, not to separate them. The project visually connected human elements (houses, barns, farms, fences, roads) across the rolling California landscape to the Pacific Ocean at Bodega Bay. Once the project was begun, about 400 people worked on the installation - everyone from art students to Hell's Angels. After two weeks, those same people began taking down the fence. All materials were given to the ranchers. Nothing remained on the landscape.  

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook, loving your neighbor in a quilt story. 

Matthew 21. 33-46: The Son of the Vineyard Owner

Jesus' parable in Matthew 21 (verses 33-46) tells his own story. Set in a vineyard, the son of the vineyard owner is killed by wicked tenants who are unwilling to give the owner the portion of the harvest that is owed. It doesn't take much to understand the story as a prediction of Jesus' fate. Below is an unidentified image (I'm still trying to identify it) from a medieval manuscript that illustrates the story. 

            

(Left) Unidentified manuscript illustration of Matthew 21:33-46. (Right) Christus in der Kelter. Gebetbuch des Ulrich von Montfort. c. 1515-1520. Vienna: Osterreichische Nationalbibliothek, cod. 2748, fol. 49v.

It also doesn't take much to understand the implications of the vineyard and Christ's relation to it as a Communion symbol. 

One of the symbolic images for the death of Jesus is the winepress. In those images (above right) Jesus is shown trampling grapes while bearing the weight of the winepress. The implication is that the crushing and juicing of grapes offers a parallel to Jesus' death and subsequent remembrance in the cup of communion. There are other vineyard images that should bring to mind the role and actions of Jesus' life and death. 

In the two images here, the wine press is the screw type that applies pressure from above in order to crush the grapes. In the parable illustration you can see the winepress through the open door of the watchtower. In the illustration with Jesus, he treads on the grapes even as the winepress crushes him. Note that it is the first person of the Trinity who turns, powers, the screw that presses on Jesus. Isaiah 63 and Revelation 14 both refer to the winepress with a tone of punishment or retribution. Here, though, it is not retribution that Christ models, but sacrifice, giving himself to death at the hands of the tenants or the winepress.

In regions that have no winemaking tradition, these images might be harder to understand. And, of course, the artists from these regions depict the equipment they saw in their own winemaking industries, and they make Jesus look like themselves. 

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook...red or white?

Matthew 18.21-25: As We Are Forgiven

How many times should we forgive? (Matthew 18:21-25) Think about the nuances of the question if it is changed slightly: How many times do I have to forgive? Have to or should, Jesus' answer is the same: there's no number. You must forgive as many times as God forgave by sending Jesus in human form to die for us. Oh. 

The parable Jesus tells drives home the fact that we are obligated to forgive others if we ourselves have been forgiven. If the language sounds familiar, I'm sure that's not by accident. Earlier in Matthew's gospel, when the disciples asked Jesus how they should pray, his model included the phrase "Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors." 

The connection between the parable and the petition is clear in the relief panels of the bronze doors on the Grossmunster in Zurich, Switzerland. Construction began on the church about the year 1100 and was completed about 1220. The Grossmunster became a Protestant church under the leadership of Huldryc (Huldrich? Huldrych? Ulrich?) Zwingli. Zwingli was succeeded by Heinrich Bullinger. 

Otto Munch. Forgive Us Our Debts (Parable of the Unforgiving Servant). 1950. Grossmunster, Zurich.

The doors on the south portal are, of course, much more contemporary. Created by German sculptor Otto Munch in 1950, the two scenes show the same servant as debtor and debt-holder. In the background the servant stands before his master. In the foreground, the servant stands above the man in his debt. The man, on his hands and knees, begs for time to repay the debt. The answer comes from the figure standing ramrod straight, his right arm crossed over his chest and his left hand making a fist. None of this implies any conciliatory gesture. 

The architectural structure between the foreground and background provides the "as you have been forgiven" element. The post supports the ceiling over the two background figures (the ceiling might also be the floor of a second story to the "building"). The post and floor/ceiling create a cross, a reminder of God's work in Jesus Christ. 

This panel is one of a series that illustrates the petitions of the Lord's Prayer. The need for forgiveness gives rise to the obligation to forgive. We who have been forgiven much, should forgive much. 

Isaiah and Matthew: Zebulun and Naphtali

Zebulun was the sixth and final son of Jacob and Leah. Naphtali was Jacob's sixth son, the second with Bilhah. The tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali had received land that made them a target for invading enemies. Those lands had been annexed by various Assyrian kings. Living as a possession of the Assyrians had brought times of despair and anguish. Isaiah 9:1 promises that the time of gloom will one day end for the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali. God will break into their lives, bringing light and life.

Matthew 4:15 has Jesus moving to Capernaum, a fishing village on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee in order to fulfill Isaiah's prophecy. For the gospel's audience, "Assyria" would be heard as "Rome," another empire that had taken control of Zebulun and Naphtali (and all the other tribes' lands, too).

Marc Chagall created a series of twelve stained glass windows for the Hadassah Medical Center in Jerusalem. Each window represents one of the twelve tribes. The windows are arranged in groups of three on four walls that create a square. Zebulun and Naphtali are pictured here, both the stained glass windows themselves and lithographs that Chagall created with the same designs.

Marc Chagall. Zebulun. (left, stained glass) Hadassah Medical Center. Jerusalem. (right, lithograph) from The Twelve Maquettes of Stained Glass Windows for Jerusalem

The Zebulun window is dominated by the color red and elements of life in, on, and around the sea. In the bottom left is a boat, symbol of a tribe who became noted for navigation, as the tribe's blessing from Jacob indicated:

13 ‘Zebulun shall settle at the shore of the sea; he shall be a haven for ships,

and his border shall be at Sidon. Genesis 49:13.

Fish jump toward one another above a horizon line that (in the lithograph anyway) features a lavender sun. The letters spelling out Naphtali's name arc across the top of the design.

Marc Chagall. Naphtali. (left, stained glass) Hadassah Medical Center. Jerusalem. (right, lithograph) from The Twelve Maquettes of Stained Glass Windows for Jerusalem

The Naphtali window, with a yellow background, also features elements of Jacob's blessing:

‘Naphtali is a doe let loose that bears lovely fawns. (Genesis 49:21)

The doe lies on the ground somewhat under a treeflies an eagle, symbol of freedom. At the right of the composition is a tree, while a bird of some kind (variously identified as an eagle or a rooster or the generic "bird"), which are often symbols of freedom. The small(er) letters spelling Zebulun are right against the top of the arch.

Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles
the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned. It's good news whether it's in Isaiah or Matthew.

See very different versions of Zebulun and Naphtali on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook.

For additional thoughts on Isaiah and Matthew, click here.

Matthew 2.1-12: Emperor, King, Murderer

No one names their child "Herod" anymore. And not just "anymore." Who would want their child associated with Herod? Herod's character is not one that most parents would want their child to emulate. The Epiphany text (Matthew 2:1-12) here shows Herod as a paranoid, power-hungry...scared...king who will stop at nothing to retain his power and position. He is more than willing to commit murder. The gospel tells of the massacre of the innocents at Bethlehem, but Herod the Great also murdered his second wife, her two sons, her brother, her grandfather, and her mother. If Herod was willing to kill so many of his own family, we have no doubt he could have killed children he never knew or saw.

Does that evil, cruel part of his personality show on his face as artists depicted him? Which of the faces below is the face of Herod the Great?

Did the artist give you a clue? Is there something in one or more of these faces that is an external clue to the internal corruption and immorality of the person seated on that throne?

Modern depictions of the visit of the Magi to Herod's court may be more likely to show Herod in some kind of aggressive body posture with an angry expression on his face. Scripture describes him as sneaky and manipulative, trying to deceive the magi with promises of plans to worship the newborn king. It was only the warning of the angel that sent the magi home by another way. They seemingly would have had no clue otherwise.

That's often the way it is, I think. The external appearance is pleasing, reliable, amiable, and sympathetic when the truth of the person is unethical, self-centered, even evil. Herod is definitely the villain of this story, but his ability to present a deceitful appearance to the world is much more common and close to home than we'd like to admit. There may be a little Herod in us.

Above far left:  Edward II Receives the Crown (detail). c. 1307-1327. British Library: Royal MS 20 A II, fol 10. Above center left: Magi Questioned by Herod (detail). 14th century. Venice: San Marco. Above center right: Three Kings Before Herod (detail). St. Alban's Psalter. 1121-1146. Hildesheim: Dombibliothek. Above far right: Portrait of Charles the Bald (detail). Bible of San Paolo fuori le Mura. c. 870. Rome: San Paolo fuori le Mura.

For additional thoughts on Epiphany, click here.

Matthew 22.15-22: Who You Look Like

And they brought him a denarius. "They" are those Pharisees who were trying to trap Jesus. Someone pulled a coin out of a pocket, and everyone leaned in to take a new look at what was probably a reasonably familiar object. That's the moment in the story when everyone holds their breath waiting to see what happens next. That's the gospel reading for Proper 24(29)A/Pentecost 20A (Matthew 22:15-22).

Jesus neatly answers the Pharisees trick question. If it looks like Caesar, it belongs to Caesar. If it looks like God, it belongs to God. The image on the coin looked like Caesar. All the Caesars marked their rise to caesar-hood by putting their own image on the coins of the realm. And don't forget that Palestine in the time of Jesus was very much in the realm of the Roman empire. 

If the coin looks like the emperor, then it belongs to the emperor.

For more on the Mount Zion Archaelogical Dig, see this blog by one of the dig's directors and this site about the dig.

In the fall of 2016, a rare gold coin (above) was found in an archaeological dig in Jerusalem. The coin, dated around 56 or 57 CE, bore the image of the Roman emperor Nero, best known for his cruelty, tyranny, and being emperor when Rome burned. It was Nero who sent Vespasian to Jerusalem in the year 67 to squash a rebellion. Only a couple of years later Nero would commit suicide, and Vespasian would be the last one standing in a year that saw four Roman emperors. Emperor Vespasian would send his son Titus to oversee the military campaign that ended in the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. Those are the things that look like the emperor...and therefore belong to the emperor.

Several things are especially remarkable about the finding of this coin. First, its location is known and documented. Knowing the coin's location helps piece together the story of the journey of the coin. Second, because the coin is gold it has not decayed. This image of this emperor is still visible today, millennia after his death.

So now the things that look like God...well, they belong to God. And just what is it that looks like God?

When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

For thoughts on the reading from Hebrew scripture (Exodus 33:12-23), click here.

For thoughts on the epistle reading (Thessalonians 1:1-10), click on the Facebook link below. To see the FB link, you will need to go to the blog post.

Wisdom and Foolishness and Blessings and Woes

The Beatitudes (Matthew's version is 5:1-12) may only feel true if you also know I Corinthians 1:18-31. Both texts are read on Epiphany 3A. Both texts seem to turn traditional wisdom on its head. Who would believe that mourning, persecution and poverty are signed of blessedness? Not most people. But the Corinthians passage reminds the reader that wisdom and foolishness are different when seen through God's eyes.

Paul reminds us that what the world says is foolish - notably the cross and Christ's death on it - is God's wisdom. In God's wisdom, the covenant with Abraham is fulfilled and sinful humans don't have their sins held against them. In God's wisdom, greater love has no one than to lay down life for friends. In God's wisdom, being persecuted for God's sake means you are doing faith right.

Marc Chagall. The Madman Who Sold Wisdom. From The Fables of Jean La Fontaine. 1927-1930. Washington, DC: National Gallery of Art. http://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-page.41937.html

Russian artist Marc Chagall illustrates the collision of wisdom and foolishness in an illustration that is part of The Fables of La Fontaine.  "The Madman Who Sold Wisdom" (Le Fou qui vent la Sagesse) tells the tale of a fool who announces that he has wisdom for sale. Soon enough people line up to buy wisdom, and what he gives them is a length of cord and a slap on the side of the head. Some were angry that they had paid for this; others simply walk away, believing they will look more foolish if they try to argue with a fool. One purchaser of wisdom goes to a sage to ask for an explanation. The wise person answers that the purchaser should stay as far away from the fool as the length of the cord he received. Anyone who stands closer to that will surely get the same slap on the side of the head. "You weren't fooled," the wise one concludes. "He did sell you wisdom."

God's wisdom. The wisdom of the world. The world's foolishness. The foolishness of God. Blessed are those who...



For thoughts on Micah 6:1-8 click here.

And this week on Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page...something entirely different.

A Great Light

It's the line that echoes from the Isaiah passage (9:1-4) to the gospel reading (Matthew 4:12-23) on the second Sunday after Epiphany(A): The people who walked in [sat in] darkness have seen a great light.

I was all ready to bedazzle this blog post with some of the amazing light installations that contemporary artists are creating. Millions of lights created through actual lights and reflections in mirrored rooms. Images the size of a cathedral wall projected onto...a cathedral wall. Lights that change according to programmed pattern or random change. Clear lights. Colored lights.

And then I wondered if "great light" might mean something else entirely.

Perhaps the light wasn't great because it was a spectacular display of cosmic fireworks. Perhaps the light was great because of what happened by it.

After all, the pyramids of Giza, Gothic cathedrals, the rock churches of Lalibela - all of these were made at a time when the world was (to quote a book title) lit only by fire. Abraham Lincoln didn't learn to read by flipping on a light switch when he got back to the family cabin after working all day. Astronomers around the globe created maps of the heavens. They found those stars with a candle or lantern sitting on the work table next to their telescopes. Any nighttime construction at Stonehenge was done by torchlight. Even for Jesus, who might have been welcomed to earth with a cosmic light show, it wasn't a daily occurrence. And despite what artists might have you believe, there probably wasn't a disk of unnatural light around his head. Someone would have mentioned that. Jesus' life was lit by oil-fueled lanterns and fires.

What might happen, then, when we think about the "great light" that we have seen? Not the star that led magi, but Jesus. How might that great light move us, lead us, call us?

But I can't help myself, so check out the Art&Faith Matters Facebook page for just one of those light installations.

For other thoughts on Isaiah and Matthew, click here.

Matthew 1.18-25: Joseph, Do Not Be Afraid

The tie between the Gospel reading and the reading from Hebrew scripture for Advent 4A is Matthew's quotation of the Isaiah reading: the young woman/virgin is with child/shall conceive and shall bear a son and (they) shall name him Emmanuel. (Isaiah 7:10-16/Matthew 1:18-25). The gospel writer quotes the prophet in order to reinforce the angel's assurance to Joseph in the minds and ears of the hearers. In the context of the gospel reading, the idea is presented in order to assure Joseph that he and Mary can be betrothed without any qualms.

Joseph is convinced by the angel's statement. So Joseph and Mary are engaged. Or betrothed. Or married.

It's an almost lost episode in the story. Luke gives the betrothal a couple of verses, but Matthew seems to let the angel's assurance imply that the ceremony (or ceremonies if betrothal and marriage are separated) occurs. Though not described in scripture, the subject is treated in art, usually with Mary and Joseph standing on either side of a church official. Mary's hand is outstretched and Joseph puts a ring on her finger. There is often an architectural setting - sometimes a quotation of the building in which the painting lives (as a means of making the scene more immediate and perhaps providing silent encouragement for all brides and grooms who are married in that church). In some versions the bride wears white; in others, she wears a red tunic with a blue cloak.

(Left) Raphael. The Marriage of the Virgin. 1504. Milan: Pinacoteca di Brera. http://pinacotecabrera.org/en/collezione-online/opere/the-marriage-of-the-virgin/  (Right) Tissot. The Betrothal of the Holy Virgin and Saint Joseph. 1886-1894. Brooklyn, NY: Brooklyn Museum. https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/4421

Both of the paintings above treat the subject of the marriage/betrothal of Mary and Joseph. Each is fabricated by the artist. Renaissance artist Raphael paints the holy couple standing in front of a central plan building reminiscent of Bramante's Tempietto in Rome, which was built in 1502. the building would have still be quite new when the painting was done in 1504. The composition employs severe one-point perspective and arranges the people in a semi-circle that echoes the architecture. The marriage ceremony seems to be less important in the composition that the artist's bravura demonstration of perspective. 

Tissot takes a completely different approach, concocting a scene filled with exotic detail that symbolizes the near eastern setting of the story. The bride and groom wear elaborately patterned garments and walk under a patterned canopy. Beneath their feet is a flower petal-strewn carpet. Sections of Roman (round) arches indicate the building in or near which the ceremony takes place.

In both images, there is a crowd and ceremony and onlookers and official blessing of this union. People are well-dressed and somber. Is this how you imagined the beginning of life together for this couple? What else is there to say about how artists have depicted this story? See  Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page. 

Choose

Joshua stands before the people and says, "Choose." (Joshua 24:15). The jamb sculptures of the south portal of the Strasbourg (France) Cathedral make the same demand of the people they face. Choose: God...or not God. What is interesting at Strasbourg is that the jamb sculptures are not of Joshua and the people of Israel. Nor do the sculptures depict Yahweh or other gods of the region. The two options are, instead, embodied in the wise and foolish bridesmaids of the Gospel lesson of Proper 27A/Ordinary 32A/Pentecost +22 (Matthew 25:1-13).

Standing at either side of the south portal on the cathedral's west facade are representative bridesmaids: three wise and three foolish. The wise maids are at the right. Jesus stands closest to the door ("I am the door"), blessing the wise maids who hold their prepared lamps. He almost ushers them into the church building.

At the left (in Latin, left is sinister) are the foolish bridesmaids. Their lamps hang upside down or are dropped entirely. These three female figures are also accompanied by a male figure, who is certainly no Jesus. Standing regally, with handsome dress and face is the Prince of the World. He holds an apple (surely a reference to Genesis) and has already enticed the maid next to him to turn away from the church. She has dropped her lamp entirely and tilts her head flirtatiously. What she cannot see (but we can in this photo) is that while the Prince presents a beautiful face, his back is decomposing and crawling with snakes, lizards and frogs. Clearly this warning is unheeded by the foolish maids, but the sculpture is placed so those standing outside the church can see the truth of choosing "the world".

The requirement to "choose" is as clear on this church facade as it was for the people facing Joshua. Choose rightly, enter the church door, prepare for heaven and when bridegroom comes and the door is closed against latecomers, you'll be inside enjoying the party.

For Cathedrale Notre Dame de Strasbourg, see: http://www.cathedrale-strasbourg.fr/

A similar arrangement of wise and foolish maids is found at St. Sebald's Kirche in Nuremburg, Germany. In this arrangement, sculptural figures of all ten maids are placed on either side of the door, For the Prince of the World (Furst der Welt) at St. Sebald, see: http://www.sebalduskirche.de/index.php?id=107


For additional art and lectionary resources, see the Art&Faith Matters page on Facebook. Click the link at the bottom of this page. 

Matthew 13.31-32: The Whole Story

Botanical illustrations as old as four thousand years have been found in Mesopotamia and Egypt. These illustrations, often used as decorative elements on tombs and buildings, offer details of local plants. Aristotle, Theophrastus, Pliny the Elder and Krateuas are among the early writers and scholars who studied plants for medicinal and agricultural purposes. Botanical illustrations are objects of beauty and objects of science.

But they may not tell the whole story. Below are two beautiful illustrations -  on the left is Brassica nigra, on the right is Sinapis alba.

Both are commonly known as mustard plants. The leaves are different, but both have characteristic yellow flowers and small seeds. Without a doubt, the illustrations are beautifully rendered, capturing the leaves, flowers, roots, and structure of both mustard plants with great accuracy and covering several stages of development among the parts of the plant. There are young leaves and mature leaves. There are flower petals and whole flowers.

But this drawing that analyzes the parts doesn't show what Jesus saw. Jesus' parable (Matthew 13:31-32) is about potential - that from a small seed could come a plant big enough that birds nest in its branches. That's what the kingdom of heaven is like.