Leave Only Footprints...Or Maybe a Little More

Burning bush (Exodus 3:1-15) and burning coals (Romans 12:9-21). Two (more) stories in scripture that employ some element of fire or flame. There is an interesting fire-related difference in the two, though. When I think about burning coals, I imagine the grill that fired hundreds of family cook-outs and barbeques. I can picture those glowing charcoal briquettes (my dad was in the lumber business...no gas grills for him). Heating up slowly, passing through the flame stage and then becoming a bank of glowing embers ready for the ribs, sausage, corn, portobello mushrooms, and more that might be on the grill on any given occasion.   

       

       Vincent Van Gogh. Peasant Burning Weeds. 1883. Van Gogh Museum (Amsterdam)/Drents Museum (Drenthe)

After dinner the coals were usually still glowing enough that the coat-hangers-turned-marshmallow-sticks were brought out, sometimes with chocolate and graham crackers, to make dessert. The coals were dealt with before bedtime, and by the next morning there was nothing but a pile of cold ashes. 

There were no ashes after Moses left the holy ground where he spoke with God. Because the bush burned but was not consumed. That means no ashes. Aside from the bush, which was there before, only Moses' footprints were left. 

Paul's instructions to the Christians in Rome (Romans 12:20) include a quote from Proverbs 25:21-22. Do more for your enemies, he instructs. Give more, love more. As I heard more than once when I was growing up, "Kill 'em with kindness."  Heap burning coals on their heads. The hope seems to be that at the end of such actions as feeding hungry enemies and giving drinks to thirst ones, what will be left isn't just cold ashes, it is a new or restored relationship between former enemies. 

Take only photographs, leave only footprints is good advice for walking through nature. Such attention to detail is important when thinking about the potential for fires. We have all seen what is left (or not) after a wildfire. For Moses and the Christians in Rome, the result of the fire is not destruction. It is growth and transformation. People who are no longer enemies. Moses commissioned to lead God's people. Those are what is left. Not just footprints. Maybe a little more. 

On Art&Faith Matters on Facebook, another part of Paul's instruction in Romans. Can you tell which verse from the thumbnail at left? Check your answer on Facebook. 

John 1.1-18: Word, Light, Life

The opening words of John's gospel are familiar, in part because of their resemblance to the opening words of Genesis. The words take us back to the beginning, before things were created. Before then, John's gospel tells us, there was the Word (John 1:1-18). In somewhat circular language, the gospel writer talks about the world and the Word, light and life, acceptance and rejection, John and Jesus. The language is generally considered lofty and theological, ascending toward heaven, rather than concrete and earthbound. That is why John's symbol in the tetramorph of the four evangelists is the eagle.

Vincent Van Gogh. Still Life with Bible. 1885. Amsterdam: Vincent Van Gogh Museum. 

The early Van Gogh shown here may at first glance seem a plodding comparison to the lofty language of the gospel, but the painting seems to embody the two sides of the text: old and new, accepted and rejected, light and life...all in the context of the word. Van Gogh painted the work after the death of his father, a Dutch Reformed minister.

The Bible is open to Isaiah 53:3-4: He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised, and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him.

The colors are muted and dark. Perhaps the painting intended the work as a study of black. In a letter to his brother, Van Gogh talked about Theo's comments about black as a color. He then wrote: In answer to your description of the study by Manet, I send you a still-life of an open - so a broken white - Bible bound in leather, against a black background, with a yellow-brown foreground, with a touch of citron yellow. The bright yellow (so familiar in Van Gogh's palette) stands out against the darkness (which the artist appreciated as much as the light). The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.

There is a candle, extinguished, a symbol of the artist's recently deceased father. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light.

Here is the Word in a  hefty, leather-bound volume. Beside the Bible, Van Gogh has placed his own yellow-bound copy of Emile Zola's novel La Joie de Vivre (The Joy of Living). The two books symbolize the conflicting world views of the artist and his father - though a summary of the novel reveals a story anything but joyful. Though Van Gogh was calling attention to the difference between the Bible and modern literature as dueling sources of authority, neither his dealings with the church or with modern life had led him to a happy state or a successful place. He himself continued to search for what would bring him to life. In him was life, and the life was the light of all people.

On Art&Faith Matters, see where else that yellow book shows up in Van Gogh's paintings.

Matthew 3.1-12: And You're Missing It

John's message is very clear: Repent because the kingdom of heaven has come near. (Matthew 3:2) What seems more implied is that the people are missing this close encounter with the kingdom of God. Repent. The kingdom of heaven has come near and you are missing it! The ax is at the foot of the tree. All it will take is one blow, and you don't even see that it is there. Repent!

Hard to imagine, we might think. Hard to imagine that there is Jesus walking around and folks are missing it. They are going about their lives, trying to survive in the face of an occupying army. Trying to make a living, find enough food for their children, get through each day. Their attention is on other things, and so they miss Jesus, who looks like all the other people they see every day.

It's easy to miss what might be in plain sight. For example, the paintings here. Do you know them? Recognize them? Are they related in any way?

(Left) Leonardo da Vinci. Last Supper. 1495-1498. Milan: S. Maria delle Grazie. 

(Right) Vincent Van Gogh. Cafe Terrace at Night. 1888. Otterlo, Netherlands: Kroller-Muller Museum. 

Maybe. Depending on what you see.

According to some scholars (and viewers), Van Gogh is paying homage to the Leonardo on the right. On the cafe terrace are twelve figures in and among the tables. The central figure (wearing white) has a window behind his head. In the Van Gogh painting, the window pane lines form a cross behind him. The figures are seated at tables on a terrace, rendered in one-point perspective. Those things are also true of the Leonardo. Is the evidence convincing to you? Is it there and we've been missing it all these years because we see a cafe terrace at night and are satisfied with that?

The Leonardo on the right has been studied and copied and referenced for five hundred years. It is the prototype of last suppers. Figures at a table. One-point perspective. Window behind the head of the central figure. Easily read. But maybe there is something that we aren't seeing. What if there were music in the painting? What if we've been walking by, staring, studying this painting for half a millennium...and we've missed it?

Jesus looked like everyone else. He lived like everyone else. But despite appearances he wasn't like everyone else, and many of the people around him missed it. John was trying to help them. By letting them know that the kingdom of heaven was not to be missed.

For thoughts on vipers (Matthew 3:1-12) see this week's Art&Faith Matters on Facebook. 

For additional thoughts on Isaiah 11:1-10, click here.

Joel 2.23-32: Olive Oil and Grasshoppers

I will repay you, God says through the prophet Joel. I will repay you for the crops destroyed by the locusts or eaten by the grasshopper (Joel 2:23-32). Instead of bare fields eaten by insects, there will be vats of wine and olive oil. There will be plenty to eat, and God's spirit will be poured out on all people.

Vincent Van Gogh. Olive Trees.  1889. Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art. Kansas City, MO. 

Vincent Van Gogh's painting "Olive Trees" shows olive trees in full leaf against a brilliant blue sky. The coolness of the painting is further enhanced by the blue shadows cast by the trees. The ground is a greenish-gray mixed with white. This is a time of plenty. This is the time of repayment. But what about the grasshoppers? How are they "repaid" for the destruction they left in their wake?

Oddly, this painting has a statement about that as well. In 2017 the Nelson-Atkins Museum undertook a close examination of the painting as part of research about fugitive paint colors (those colors that fade over time and change what the artist intended). The examination yielded questions about a red paint that Van Gogh used. But it also yielded the revelation that since Van Gogh sat outside with his paints and canvas, this painting has been the final resting place of...a grasshopper.
A paleo-entomologist determined that the grasshopper was already dead when it found its way to the canvas (there are no signs of struggle in the surrounding paint). But here, in the shade of these full olive trees, this particular grasshopper has been repaid. For all time.

To see the embedded grasshopper and read more about the painting, click here.
For thoughts on Luke 18:9-14, click here.

Jeremiah 31.31-34: Gone to Seed

The prophet Jeremiah tells of the day when God's people won't be keeping the covenant as an external set of laws, but rather as something that is an intrinsic part of each person (Jeremiah 31.31-34). Written on their hearts is the way Jeremiah says it. It's a poetic turn of phrase that is a bit more awkward to depict in art.

The concept is easily followed, though. Vincent van Gogh offers a parallel in one of his sunflower paintings. It isn't one of the paintings that has golden yellow flowers at the peak of blooming, standing in a vase against a light-colored background. Instead the artist shows the flowers at the end of life.

Gone to seed is a phrase usually meant to indicate something that is past its prime. A place that looks uncared for or shabby is said to have gone to seed. The root of the phrase is in agriculture. When plants finish flowering, the flowers fade and the leaves fall off the plant. At that stage the energy of the plant is devoted to making seeds, so the condition of the leaves, stems and flowers begin to deteriorate. 

It is at this stage that the structure of the plant gives way, falling apart and allowing the seeds to move into the earth. And each of those seeds will grow into a new plant whose identity is programmed on the genetic material that provides the blueprint for what that plant will become. In other words, the laws of development are written internally on the plant's DNA. A sunflower seed will grow into a sunflower rather than a delphinium or a cabbage.

Vincent van Gogh. Four Sunflowers Gone to Seed. 1887. Otterlo, Netherlands: Kroller-Muller Museum.

Seeds are what make development and growth an internal process. A lab experiment can influence development of one generation, but it is genetic material that transfers characteristics from one generation to the next. If you want to make an abiding change that will be retained in future generations, the seeds will need to be changed. The genetic material writes the laws of development on the "heart" of the plant that grows from the seed. And if the plant doesn't go to seed, then there will be no next generation to inherit those traits. 

Going to seed may mean being past one's prime, but the seeds are shaping the next generation. And that's important because the days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant.    

It's sort of the same thing that Jesus talked about when he said that unless a grain of wheat dies, it will just be a single grain (John 12:20-33). But if it does die, it can bear much fruit. 

For one use of Psalm 51, click on the Art&Faith Matters Facebook page.

For additional thoughts on John 12:20-33, click on this link. 

John 1.29-42: Brothers

Brothers. The gospel reading for Epiphany 2A (John 1:29-42) features the call stories of one set of brothers who were part of the original twelve. James and John are the other pair, but here we read the story of Peter and Andrew. That is usually the order in which they are given, with Peter taking the first spot. Peter is such a vivid character in the gospels with his impetuous behavior, his impetuous speech, his impetuous...well, you know. Andrew is seen more infrequently. His name is mentioned twelve times in Christian scripture. By contrast, his brother's name is mentioned more than 150 times.

You'd think Andrew might be jealous. You'd think there might be some sibling rivalry. You might think any number of things, but you wouldn't know. Because scripture seems decidedly uninterested in the sibling relationship of Andrew and Peter.

Ossip Zadkine. The Van Gogh Brothers. 1956. Dallas, TX: Dallas Museum of Art. 

https://www.dma.org/collection/artwork/ossip-zadkine/brothers-van-gogh

It would have been interesting to know who was older (would you hazard a guess based on what you know from scripture?), how they talked to one another when Jesus wasn't around. Was one more artistic than the other or one more athletic than the other? Did they share the same dominant hand or was one a righty and the other a lefty? Was Andrew an introvert, or does he only seem introverted because he is often standing next to his brother? Those are things we don't know.

What we do know is that Peter indeed steps to the forefront of the brothers - and of the disciples. But had it not been for Andrew, perhaps Peter would never have been there at all. In fact, almost every time we see Andrew in scripture, he is bringing someone else to Jesus. Andrew found the boy with five loaves and two fish and brought him to Jesus. When several Greek inquirers want time with Jesus, Andrew advises Philip to take them to him.

One brother known. Both brothers valuable.

I was reminded of another set of brothers: Vincent and Theo van Gogh. Most people, even those with a minimal knowledge of art history, are familiar with Vincent's name. His paintings, a couple of events in his life. People know that. Many have never heard of Theo van Gogh. But without Theo, the world probably would not know Vincent.

Ossip Zadkine. Vincent and Theo van Gogh. 1964. Zundert, Netherlands. 

http://www.zundert.nl/inwoner/cultuur_41413/item/vincent-van-gogh_8479.html

Theo van Gogh was an art dealer. About four years younger than Vincent, Theo was unfailing in his support of his brother. Theo supported Vincent emotionally and financially both before and after his (Theo's) marriage. He sent Vincent art supplies like canvas and paint and money for living expenses. Theo tried to run interference between Vincent and their father. He admired his older brother and believed that his talent was true and timeless. He was one of few people in the world who did.

Theodorus van Gogh, father to Theo and Vincent, was a minister in the Dutch Reformed Church. Vincent reflected in a letter that Father van Gogh referred to the story of Jacob and Esau when talking about the brothers. Vincent wrote: Pa sometimes mulled over the story of Jacob and Esau with regard to you and me — not entirely mistakenly — although happily there’s less enmity, to mention just one difference, and in the Bible itself there are examples aplenty of better relations between brothers than existed between the aforementioned venerable patriarchs. 

The relationship between adult brothers is often quite complex. There are layers of memories, resentments, love, irritations. But for many brothers - regardless of the resentments and irritations - there is still the love. That is what artist Ossip Zadkine set out to depict in the two sculptures shown here. Both have the van Gogh brothers as their subject. Note how the figures lean toward one another. In the smaller piece the brothers' heads are together. In the larger outdoor piece, located in Zundert, the van Gogh brothers' hometown, the brothers are standing. Their heads are still together, and in this piece they seem to share a heart as well.

Though the point of the gospel reading is Jesus' call and the disciples' answer, it is important to note that Jesus didn't call only people like Peter and that it was the non-spotlight brother Andrew who was effective in finding the people who could help Jesus fulfill his mission. Two brothers. Both valuable. As each disciple is.

"Behold the lamb of God!" said John when he saw Jesus. Here's another lamb. Find out more about it on our Facebook page. 


For additional thoughts on John 1:29-42, click here.

Isaiah 35.1-10: The Sign of the Crocus

The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad, the desert shall rejoice and blossom; like the crocus it shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice with joy and singing. So says the prophet Isaiah in the reading from Hebrew scripture for Advent 3A (Isaiah 35:1-10).

Vincent Van Gogh. Basket of Crocus Bulbs. 1887. Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum. https://www.vangoghmuseum.nl/en/collection/s0179V1962

The crocus is specifically mentioned in Isaiah as a result when the wilderness and dry land and desert rejoice. What would make a dry area like a desert rejoice? Rain. And that is indeed when crocuses appear in Israel.

The Winter Crocus (Crocus Hyemalis) grows after Israel's long, hot summer. It is among the earliest plants to bloom. The crocus isn't much of a sign as far as volume and height go. The plant is stemless and stands only 1"-3". Its value as a sign (and symbol) is in its ability to withstand the drought of summer and to sprout, sometimes in anticipation of the rain. When you see the crocus you know that the rains are coming. In an arid land, this is indeed a sign.

That's how it will be for the ransomed of the Lord who are returning to Israel. They are a sprout. There will be (re)building to do in the land. There will be land to be reclaimed. There is still work to do. But the sign - the small shoot of green - is there.

One of the questions we need to ask in this Advent season is whether we are able to see small green shoots for what they are. Are we so overwhelmed with a dry and arid landscape that we don't see - don't expect, don't even look for - the green shoots that are signs of return, renewal and the kingdom of God.

On Facebook this week: Van Gogh  mentions crocuses in a letter to his brother. To read it click here.
For thoughts on John in prison (Matthew 11:2-11), click here.

Mark 9.38-50: Salt and Paint

Have salt in yourselves. The gospel reading for Proper 21B/Ordinary 26B/Pentecost 18 (Mark 9:38-50) features this instruction from Jesus. He reminds his followers that salt is good but salt that has lost its saltiness is not much use. Have salt in yourselves, Jesus says, and be at peace with one another.

Yes, we should. But sometimes it isn't as easy in the living as the hearing. A case in point is Vincent van Gogh. Few artists work is more easily recognizable than Vincent. His work routinely sells for tens of millions of dollars (in May 2015 his painting "L'Allee Des Alyscamps" sold for $66 million rather than the estimated $40 million, proving that the appetite for his work is still strong). The only thing perhaps as well-known as his work is his life.

Failed art dealer, failed teacher, failed evangelist, and if one accounts by economic success during his lifetime, failed artist. Vincent struggled in personal relationships with family, friends and strangers. He thought of himself as a painter but the world tried to send him another message. His work was not appreciated widely...or really at all.

In 1880, while living in Cuesmes, Belgium, in the mining region of the Borinage, he wrote in a letter to his brother: So you mustn’t think that I’m rejecting this or that; in my unbelief I’m a believer, in a way, and though having changed I am the same, and my torment is none other than this, what could I be good for, couldn’t I serve and be useful in some way, how could I come to know more thoroughly, and go more deeply into this subject or that? Do you see, it continually torments me, and then you feel a prisoner in penury, excluded from participating in this work or that, and such and such necessary things are beyond your reach. Because of that, you’re not without melancholy, and you feel emptiness where there could be friendship and high and serious affections, and you feel a terrible discouragement gnawing at your psychic energy itself, and fate seems able to put a barrier against the instincts for affection, or a tide of revulsion that overcomes you. And then you say, How long, O Lord! Well, then, what can I say; does what goes on inside show on the outside? Someone has a great fire in his soul and nobody ever comes to warm themselves at it, and passers-by see nothing but a little smoke at the top of the chimney and then go on their way. So now what are we to do, keep this fire alive inside, have salt in ourselves, wait patiently, but with how much impatience, await the hour, I say, when whoever wants to, will come and sit down there, will stay there, for all I know? (Letter 155, Br. 1990: 154 | CL: 133; From: Vincent van Gogh, To: Theo van Gogh. Date: Cuesmes, between about Tuesday, 22 and Thursday, 24 June 1880)

Now called Maison Van Gogh, this house was where Vincent rented a room while living in Cuesmes.

http://www.polemuseal.mons.be/en/maison-van-gogh

It was while Vincent was living in the Borinage that he devoted his life to art. He had recently been dismissed from his position as a preacher and was searching for what he was to do. In September 1880, still living in Cuesmes, he wrote again to Theo: Well, and notwithstanding, it was in this extreme poverty that I felt my energy return and that I said to myself, in any event I’ll recover from it, I’ll pick up my pencil that I put down in my great discouragement and I’ll get back to drawing, and from then on, it seems to me, everything has changed for me, and now I’m on my way and my pencil has become somewhat obedient and seems to become more so day by day. It was poverty, too long and too severe, that had discouraged me to the point where I could no longer do anything. (Letter 158. Br. 1990: 157 | CL: 136; From: Vincent van Gogh, To: Theo van Gogh. Date: Cuesmes, Friday, 24 September 1880)

And the artist was (re)born.

Vincent Van Gogh - child of the manse, aspiring preacher - put his own situation in the context of scripture, quoting Psalm 22 and Mark's gospel in letter 155. We owe Vincent's brother Theo for the financial and emotional support that made it possible for Vincent to buy paint and canvas on which to work. We owe Vincent's sister-in-law Johanna for the preservation of his work after his and Theo's deaths only six months apart. But our greatest debt is to Vincent for "having salt in himself" and pursuing the work God gave him to do.

For contemporary art based on salt, see Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page here.
For thoughts on Esther 7:1-6, 9-10; 9:20-22 click on this link.

Look! Up in the Sky!

If Jesus' coming to the world is not written in the stars, it's at least announced there. Mark 13:24-27 describes the sun and moon, stars, clouds and the very ends of the heavens as part of the announcement of Jesus' return. The gospel advises believers to be watchful and to know these signs in the heavens for what they are. It is difficult to imagine that anyone - believer or not - wouldn't be focused on the heavenly upheavals described in the reading. We can imagine the uncertainty brought about by a darkened sun and moon accompanied by shooting stars.

The falling stars that Mark's gospel describes might be captured most accurately by Jean Francois Millet in his Starry Night. Stars shoot across the sky while a warm glow hovers on the horizon. Trees are silhouetted against the glow, and a road - barely discernible in the darkness - leads us into the painting. While nineteenth-century France might have been more fascinated than afraid of such heavenly fireworks, centuries earlier, shooting stars might have been easily lumped in the same category as comets, which were usually considered bad omens.

Jean-Francois Millet. Starry Night. ca. 1850-1865. Oil on canvas. Yale University Art Gallery. 1961.22. http://artgallery.yale.edu/collections/objects/starry-night-0

Millet's painting is quite accurate. Compare the Millet painting above to the NASA photo of the annual Geminid Meteor Shower in 2013. The photo is a time lapse photo (over three hours) taken near China's Dashanbao Wetlands.  

http://apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap131213.html

The most famous starry night in art, however, was surely created by Vincent Van Gogh. Van Gogh knew Millet's work, admired it and indeed copied of some of the older artist's paintings (though always in his own style). While the subject of Millet's painting might have influenced Van Gogh's choice of subject, the later painting is clearly not a copy.

Vincent Van Gogh. The Starry Night. 1889. Oil on canvas. Museum of Modern Art, NYC. 472.1941. http://www.moma.org/collection/object.php?object_id=79802

Stars had meaning for Van Gogh. He wrote to his brother Theo, "...the sight of the stars always makes me dream in as simple a way as the black spots on the map, representing towns and villages, make me dream. Why, I say to myself, should the spots of light in the firmament be less accessible to us than the black spots on the map of France. Just as we take the train to go to Tarascon or Rouen, we take death to go to a star." (Letter 638, 1888) 

Mark 13 is not the first time that the heavens have announced Jesus' arrival. Stars and angels were also part of Jesus' first visit to earth. With the falling stars here on Advent 1B and the travelling star on Christmas, this season is bookended with the experience of looking up in the sky. Mark's gospel (along with the Christmas story that we know is coming) reminds us that when it comes to Christ, ultimately it is not death that we should associate with stars racing and tumbling through the heavens. Instead it is life.

The 2014 Geminid Meteor Showers will occur between December 7 and 17, peaking the night of the 13th and morning of the 14th. Why not go outside, read Mark's gospel, read of the star in Matthew's gospel and look up in the sky.




For thoughts on the reading from Hebrew scripture for Advent 1B (Isaiah 64:1-9), click here.

What does the image at left contribute to the discussion of the gospel lesson for Advent 1B? Click here for a Facebook post that explains..