Acts 9.1-20: So Ananias Went

Imagine Ananias' dismay. God has appeared to him in a vision (that's not the dismaying part) and has a job for him to do (that's not the dismaying part). He's supposed to go supervise the healing of the man who has been singlehandedly terrorizing all of Christendom (and there's the dismaying part) (Acts 9:1-20). Faithful Ananias has been waiting for God to call on him to do something. No doubt Ananias is ready, waiting, eager, even. Just let me know what you want me to do, God. Here I am. Send me.

And after hearing the work he has been called to do, Ananias says, "God, you have got to be kidding me." I'm sure each of us can think of someone whose name we could insert for "Saul" that would fill us with dread and horror at being called on to heal and baptize. We can only assume that Ananias remembered that God does not see as humans see (1 Samuel 16:7).

And, sure enough, Ananias is remembered for this act. The one that he essentially tried to talk God out of.

Baptism of Paul. 12th century mosaic. Palatine Chapel, Palermo, Sicily.

In this mosaic, Ananias completes his assigned task by baptizing Paul. The text is "Praecepto Christi baptizator Paulus ab Anania" ("At Christ's command, Paul is baptized by Ananias."). In this version, Paul is baptized in a water-filled chalice-shaped font, a shape popular in Romanesque churches, as the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove descends from the hand of God. To Ananias' right a liturgical assistant holds a lit candle.

This mosaic probably tells us more about baptisms in 12th-century Sicily than it does about Paul's baptism. But regardless of font shape or lit candles, what we really learn about in this story is the faithfulness and obedience of this Ananias...not to be confused with the other Ananias in Acts 5.

For thoughts on the charcoal fire on the beach (John 21:1-19), see this week's Art&Faith Matters Facebook post. 
For additional thoughts on John 21:1-19, click here.

Through the Waters

Images of the baptism of Christ often show Jesus standing in gently rippling water - sometimes up to his waist, other times only ankle deep. John stands beside him pouring a gentle stream of water onto Jesus' head, often from a scallop shell. The waters of baptism as related in the text (Luke 3:15-22) are carefully controlled by the artist so as to not detract from either the Savior or his fur-clad cousin. It's a far cry from a situation that would lead God to promise that "when you go through the waters I will be with you, and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you" (Isaiah 43:1-7). It's hard to imagine that God would need to promise to be with anyone in ankle-deep water. But the path through those waters of baptism led to the cross and Jesus' anguished cry that God was nowhere to be found.

As artists have managed their images, perhaps we in Christ's church have managed baptism to the point that its waters no longer seem even dangerous enough to warrant our careful attention. We use a careful dribble of water or step down smooth-surfaced steps into a carefully filled pool. And we believe these tidy, manageable actions symbolize our being named as Christ's own and grafted into the body of Christ. Annie Dillard wrote about worship: “On the whole, I do not find Christians, outside of the catacombs, sufficiently sensible of conditions. Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? Or, as I suspect, does no one believe a word of it? The churches are children playing on the floor with their chemistry sets, mixing up a batch of TNT to kill a Sunday morning. It is madness to wear ladies’ straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the sleeping god may wake someday and take offense, or the waking god may draw us out to where we can never return.”  [Teaching a Stone to Talk: Expeditions and Encounters (New York: Harper & Row, 1982), pp. 40-41.]

Perhaps we would be better served (and have more truth in advertising for the claims baptism makes on our lives) if our baptismal images were more like Maggi Hambling's "Wave" paintings. Hambling's paintings are inspired by the artist's experience of the gigantic waves that crash onto the sea wall in Southwold, Suffolk, England. The paintings are often large, measuring over six by seven feet, allowing viewers standing in front of the paintings to feel the size and power of the waves. This is no ankle-deep wading. These are waves that threaten to overwhelm. This is the voice of the Lord that is over the waters, thundering over mighty waters (Psalm 29:3). This is drama and danger enough to make one search for and be grateful for the ongoing presence of God.

Top: Maggi Hambling. Wall of water V. 2011. 78 x 89 inches. Bottom: The artist in the "Walls of Water" exhibit at the National Gallery, London, England. 

For additional thoughts on baptism and the baptism of Christ click here, here, or here.

For an interesting illustration of Isaiah 43:1, see this week's Art&Faith Matters' Facebook post.

Acts 10.44-48: Even the Gentiles

The Acts reading for Easter 6B is a little out of order, liturgically. The 10th chapter of Acts is after  Pentecost, but the Revised Common Lectionary places the reading during Eastertide. The disciples have received the Holy Spirit...and so have other people. And that's the problem. The Holy Spirit has been poured out...even on the Gentiles. Some members of the community of faith aren't sure what to do with that.

On the other hand, some are exactly sure what to do. Nothing. Do not give any credence to the idea that the Holy Spirit would ever come to "them." But Peter disagrees. He argues that the Holy Spirit can, indeed, be poured out even on Gentiles. The wording of his characterization of the anti-Gentile faction in verse 46 is different in different translations: Can any man forbid water, that these should not be baptized, (KJV) Surely no one can stand in the way of their being baptized with water. (NIV) Do I hear any objections to baptizing these friends with water? (MSG). The NRSV offers this: Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people... 

Any objections sounds benign enough. Stand in the way may be a little more disruptive. Forbid water and withhold water are definitely combative. In engineering terms, the community of faith might be seen as building a dam. That's the subject matter of William Gropper's mural for the Department of the Interior. Created for the Works Progress Administration, the mural shows the massive amount of work undertaken to build projects like the Grand Coulee Dam and the Davis Dam. Human workers are frozen in heroic poses as they exert physical effort. Industrial machines like cranes lift and place segments of the dam that have been constructed elsewhere. Time, energy, labor and money are being invested in the creation of this dam.

 William Gropper. Construction of a Dam. 1939. Department of the Interior, Washington, DC.

There are good reasons for building a dam. Holding water hostage - water for crops, people or baptism - is not one of them. 

For thoughts on John 15:9-17, click here.
For thoughts on the Ascension on the Art & Faith Matters blog, click here. For the Ascension on Facebook, click here or here.

Isaiah 60:1-6: Epiphany and Baptism: A Story of Getting Up

Arise, shine! directs the prophet. For your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.. The text is the reading from Hebrew scripture for Epiphany B (Isaiah 60:1-6), but the verbs also work well with the neighboring liturgical day, the Baptism of the Lord. One of the things they all have in common is movement.

The magi must actually prepare for and then set out on the journey. If they want to see for themselves, no amount of talking about astronomy or geography or history is going to get the answers they want. They have to get up and go. 

At his baptism, Jesus doesn't stay in/under the water. He must move up from or out of the water. It is as Jesus comes up out of the water that the dove descends and the voice is heard (who hears the heavenly voice depends on which gospel you are reading). 

When people are healed by Jesus, they get up and go back to the work they were doing or they join Jesus on the way. Jesus says things like, "Take up your bed and walk." Even Saul, when blinded on the road to Damascus, gets up off the ground and is led by the hand to Damascus. 

So, too, the people of God must move. Arise! Get up! Shine! Reflect the glory of God that shines on you! Now is the time to move.

 "Resurrection" from Vysehrad Gospel. 1085. Prague: Klementium.

But if you don't want to get up now, the day is coming when you must. An African-American spiritual describes the "Great Gettin' Up Morning", the day of judgement that is coming. On that day we are all going to have to get up. Gabriel will blow his silver trumpet to wake the sleeping children. Will you still be asleep? Or will you be on the move?

This week on Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page, see the ominous qualities of Hieronymous Bosch's Adoration of the Magi. Click here.

For other thoughts on the Epiphany readings, click here and here

Journeying Toward Jesus

The liturgical and non-liturgical calendars coincide this year to put Epiphany and Baptism of the Lord in exceedingly close proximity. The story of the Magi (Matthew 2:1-12) is familiar as it, along with the Baptism of the Lord (Matthew 3:13-17), is read every year. Visitors who are "not from around here" arrive at the house where Mary and Joseph and their newborn baby are living. The liturgical themes of Epiphany are many, and they multiply when Epiphany is considered in light of baptism.

Italian painter Stefano di Giovanni (called Sassetta) painted the magi story in what is now two panels (bottom image). At the top of the panel the magi process away from the pink city of Jerusalem where they have consulted with Herod and his court. They move from the right side of the canvas toward the left, moving downhill (and out of the picture space) as they go. In the bottom panel the magi arrive at the house (cave?) where Mary sits in the Roman-arched doorway with baby Jesus on her lap.

Seeing the second panel helps explain the presence of the gold star under the feet of the magi's horses. The beams from the star trail downward toward the bottom edge of the top panel. It is far from the usual arrangement. The star's location is explained when the two panels are seen together. The star is directly over the head of the Christ child in the bottom panel - exactly where Matthew's gospel says it will be.

The goal of the magi was to find the king who had been born. They knew of the king and set out on the journey. They did not know the destination but trusted they would find him. And they did. Were they dreamers? Foolish? No doubt many people thought they were both those things and more for embarking on such a trip based only on a star.

Sassetta's version of the story give the journey a bit of a circus air. In the journey panel, just to the right of the left edge, a monkey rides on the back of a donkey. Several people and horses behind him, a man wearing a pink tunic sits on his horse while a hunting falcon rides on his arm. Dogs - one white and one brown - travel with the group. The landscape is barren, with only the occasional skeletal tree, though several kinds of birds are in the picture (more on that on Facebook this week).

At his baptism Jesus was called into ministry and began a journey that seems every bit as much the journey of a dreamer as the journey of the magi. He knew his purpose and followed the road to its end. Perhaps you have to be more than a bit of a dreamer to set out on a journey like that.

Maybe. But maybe all you have to be is baptized. In many ways we find ourselves in both stories. For surely baptism is both our call to ministry and our call to a journey to find Jesus that we may worship him.

(Top) Sassetta. Journey of the Magi. 1433-1435. NY: Metropolitan Museum of Art. http://www.metmuseum.org/toah/works-of-art/43.98.1/
(Bottom) Sassetta. Journey of the Magi (Met) at top. Adoration of the Magi. 1433-35. Siena: Chigi-Saracini Collection. http://eng.chigiana.it/explore-the-academy/collections/

This week's Art&Faith Matters Facebook post is for the birds. Or about the birds, anyway. Click here for more information.

For additional thoughts on Epiphany, click here.

God Turn All Things to the Best

The readings from Hebrew scripture and the gospel for Baptism of Christ C (Isaiah 43:1-7 and Luke 3:15-22) should remind us of the power of water. The waters of a baptismal service are usually manageable. A font, a bowl or a pool is filled. The waters are calm and controllable. We dip out the water to be poured or duck under the water in an organized fashion.

But there are times when we are reminded of the power of water. Currently the waters of the Mississippi River are flooding riverbanks and breeching levees from Illinois to Louisiana, and the soutthern locations are still seeing rising water. And unless you are in or near one of those places it's easy to remain unaware of what that looks like. 

One night in 1525, German artist Albrecht Durer dreamed about water. When he woke from the dream he attempted to put down in writing and capture in paint the image that had so frightened him in his dream. The image was this:

Albrecht Durer. Dream Vision. 1525. Watercolor on paper. Kunsthistoriches Museum, Vienna.

In the painting, gigantic falls of water fill the sky. The landscape is dotted with trees and rises in the land. A towered city is in the distance. One plume of water has reached the earth, crashing into the horizon with deep blue color and creating an earth-bound cloud of water. Imagine the force of that water as it hits the earth. This is not a gentle rain that refreshes the earth.

Beneath the picture Durer wrote: “In the year 1525 between Wednesday and Thursday (7-8 June) after Whitsunday during the night I saw this appearance in my sleep, how many great waters fell from heaven. The first struck the earth about four miles away from me with a terrific force, with tremendous clamour and clash, drowning the whole land. I was so sore afraid that I awoke from it before the other waters fell. And the waters which had fallen were very abundant. Some of them fell further away, some nearer, and they came down from such a great height that they all seemed to fall with equal slowness. But when the first water, which hit the earth, was almost approaching, it fell with such swiftness, wind and roaring, that I was so frightened when I awoke that my whole body trembled and for a long while I could not come to myself. So when I arose in the morning I painted above here as I had seen it. God turn all things to the best.”

In Durer's vision the water was significant - even terrifying - enough that it caused him to think of God. Perhaps it also caused him to remember the promise of Isaiah's prophecy that rivers would not overwhelm and that in deep waters God would be there. Those are promises worth remembering on the occasion of Jesus' baptism and on every baptism celebrated in a family of faith. The waters of baptism can be deeper and more consuming that the basin or drops or carefully clear pool would suggest. And for each person who goes through those waters, we pray that God will turn all things to the best.

Mark 10.2-16: Husbands, Wives, Children

The gospel reading for Proper 22B/Ordinary 27B/Pentecost 19 (Mark 10:2-16) includes exchanges on the topics of marriage/divorce and children. The child-illustrated episode here is not exactly that of Proper 20B/O25B/P17, but the blog post written for that Sunday discussed various arrangements of Jesus and children, so it seemed a bit redundant to approach the text from that point of view.

Having the exchanges about marriage and divorce and children in proximity to one another brings to mind questions about what it might have been like to grow up in the house of Mary and Joseph, a subject on which scripture is remarkably silent. Except for the episode at the temple when Jesus was twelve years old, canonical scripture gives no mention of Jesus' childhood, adolescence or young adulthood. But it is in the house of Mary and Joseph that Jesus would have most fully seen a marriage and the worth and role of children, both topics addressed in this week's readings.

Because the text is silent, artists have had free reign to imagine life in that household. Considered through the paintings, life might have been tedious, with every act of the young, growing Jesus taking on a foreshadowing of his life on earth. Consider John Everett Millais' Christ in the House of His Parents, also called The Carpenter's Shop. Here the boy Jesus has drawn blood via a wound caused by a nail in Joseph's carpenter shop. The blood pools in his palm and drips on his foot as his mother comforts him. His cousin John (the baptizer) brings a bowl of water to wash away the blood while a white dove sits on the rung of a ladder leaning against the back wall. These clearly foreshadow Jesus' baptism and crucifixion. Millais based the scene on a local carpenter's shop, going so far as to get sheep's heads from a local butcher to use as the basis for the flock seen through the open door.

Millais. Christ in the House of His Parents. 1849-50. Oil on canvas. London: Tate Britain. 

http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/millais-christ-in-the-house-of-his-parents-the-carpenters-shop-n03584

The painting was not universally acclaimed. Charles Dickens wrote that the boy Christ was "a hideous, wry-necked, blubbering, red-headed boy, in a bed gown" (Household Words, 15 June 1850). In this interpretation, Mary and Jesus form a unit with Joseph and assorted other people orbiting around them.

American artist Frank V. Dumond shows an older Jesus with an older Mary and Joseph. The three gather around the supper table. Jesus and Mary glow in their white garments while Joseph sits in shadows wearing dark clothing. Joseph is given only a thin ring halo, while the other two members of the family have solid disks announcing their holiness. As in Millais' picture, there is a wooden table in the room, no doubt made by the carpenter-in-residence (though the brace along the parental side of the table makes one wonder about the structural soundness of the furniture and the abilities of the carpenter). Jesus stands on one side of the table while his parents prepare to receive the meal. In this composition, Mary and Joseph are more of a unit, seated side by side, though Joseph tends to disappear and Mary's affinity with Jesus is shown in their white garments.

Frank V. Dumond. Jesus with His Parents at the Supper Table.

The lilies, common in scenes of the Annunciation as symbols of Mary's purity, are still here growing in a foreground pot. A single window pierces the wall of the house and allows light to shine on Jesus' clothing. Parents and child gather together to share a meal in a prefiguration of Communion with Christ presiding at the table rather than his father.

Marriage and divorce...the worth and role of children...the dynamics of family life...Jesus spoke about all of them. He experienced them firsthand in the house of Mary and Joseph.

This week's Art&Faith Matters Facebook post looks at the reading from Hebrew scripture (Job 1:1, 2:1-10). What do you imagine the scene between God and "the adversary" looked like? Click on the Facebook link

For thoughts on Job 1:1, 2:1-10, click here.

Mark 1.4-11: Which Way You Look at It

The baptism of Christ is either a private, a semi-private or public event depending on the gospel you read. The account in Mark's gospel (Mark 1:4-11) doesn't specify who might have heard the voice or seen the dove. Perhaps it was everyone. Perhaps it was no one beside Jesus - and one wonders how the gospel writer would have heard the story in order to include it. Public or private is just one of the dichotomies that apply to baptism in general and this story in particular. Individuals and communities of faith decide for themselves on the public and/or private nature of the Christian sacrament.

Another polarity that sheds light on baptism (in general and this story in particular) is that of orientation - is baptism horizontal or vertical? Some artists make this scene a sprawling landscape with people and cities and mountains, trees and birds and all manner of things. Annibale Carracci's version below is one of those. Jesus is at the center of the composition with John to the right (as we look at the picture). Large figures clothing and unclothing themselves in eye-catching bright white garments twist and turn at the left, pointing toward Jesus. At the right are other figures wandering into the picture space. Rocky outcroppings and silhouetted trees form both a background and a back drop.

Annibale Carracci. The Baptism of Christ. 1584. Oil on canvas. Bologna: San Gregorio.

With its slightly rectangular composition, the action feels horizontal, though the water is poured down onto Jesus' head. By contrast, the Tiffany studios window in the Baltimore Museum of Art is almost unreletingly vertical.

The Baptism of Christ (Tiffany Studio  on a design by Frank Brangwyn). 1899. Stained Glass. Baltimore Museum of Art. http://collection.artbma.org/emuseum/view/objects/asitem/search@/14/title-asc?t:state:flow=ce7d9ee3-d083-4776-ab64-36def3827833

The two men are constrained by the elongated shape of the window. From shoulder to elbow their arms are glued to their sides, though from Christ's hands come together in a prayer position and John's right hand is raised to pour water. The dove's rays add to the vertical emphasis of the work, and the bottom section with floral forms and a banner add length to the composition.

We can't assume that the choice of vertical-horizontal is a theological statement by the artist. Compositions can be dictated by the shape of the wall or window to be filled, by the wishes of the one commissioning the work, by the medium itself as well as other circumstances. However, we can ask theological questions implied by the orientation of these and other images of the baptism of Christ. How much of baptism is "horizontal" - human to human? How much of baptism is "vertical" - God to human? Does your artistic preference line up with your theological understanding?

This week on Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page... a North African baptismal font and a quote from Tertullian.. Get a closer look by clicking here.

Business as Usual at Horeb?

The elements are familiar: Moses, rock, water, people prepared to receive the water. But you might not expect to see the episode of Moses striking the rock as a monument in a public park. This particular statue, dedicated in 1893, is in Washington Park, Albany, NY.

Often in pictures we see Moses standing beside a rock, more in the pose of Christ standing at the door and knocking. Here, though, Moses will be more in the way of Nanny McPhee, tapping her cane on the ground to effect action. Here Moses is standing on the rock, though the Exodus passage tells us that God has promised to be standing on the rock (Exodus 17:6: I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink). Additional bronze figures on the lower part of the statue represent stages of human life - infancy, maturity, youth, old age, reminding us that all people need to drink of this water.

The statue (both rock and bronze figures), designed by John Massey Rhind, is also called the King Memorial Fountain. Commissioned by Henry King as a memorial to his father, Rufus King, the chosen subject was the Rock of Horeb. The subject was chosen not for its demonstration of faith in God's providence but rather, apparently, as a comparison to Rufus King's skills in banking and commerce. A general interpretation is that the people were "able to drink" of progress, because of Rufus King's skills.

Is that a comparison we would make today? The water from the rock...as commerce? In other times and places, the rock at Horeb has served as a typology for poets and for the resurrection. What might the act of getting water from a rock symbolize for us today (in addition to drinkable water, which remains out of reach to many people in the world)?

For additional information on the fountain, see:  http://alloveralbany.com/archive/2011/04/18/the-moses-fountain-in-washington-park. For additional information on the rock at Horeb as symbol/typology, see: http://www.victorianweb.org/religion/type/moses.html and http://www.victorianweb.org/religion/type/ch2.html

For thoughts on John 4 and Exodus 17, click here.

Rocks, Arks, Baskets and Water

On this rock I will build the church. That's what Jesus tells Peter (Matthew 16:18). The baptismal font at Coventry Cathedral (England) takes that statement literally, building the church of Jesus Christ one baptism at a time using a rock baptismal font. Though almost completely destroyed by Nazi bombs on 14 November 1940, the cathedral was rebuilt, merging the ruins of the old cathedral with a contemporary expression of the cathedral form in an effort to give physical presence to the ideas of hope for the future and reconciliation.  

For Coventry Cathedral: http://www.coventrycathedral.org.uk/

The rock, a boulder from near Bethlehem, has a basin on top in the form of a scallop shell on the top. Ralph Beyer, a German-born letter-cutter, sculptor and teacher, designed and carved the shell. Beyer's family left Germany in 1932, but his mother, who was Jewish, returned to Germany during World War II, was incarcerated at Auschwitz and died there in 1945. Among many other commissions, Beyer carved Paul Tillich's gravestone in New Harmony, IN.

This font ties together the texts for Proper 16A/Ordinary 21A/Pentecost+11 remembering that in baptism the community remembers other stories of God's salvation expressed through water:

In the time of Noah, you destroyed evil by the waters of the flood, 

giving righteousness a new beginning.

You led Israel out of slavery, through the waters of the sea,

 into the freedom of the promised land.

Book of Common Worship, Presbyterian Church (USA)

The idea comes full circle in the Hebrew word for "ark" (תֵּבָה - tbh - tebah). This same word is used to describe the "basket" woven by Moses mother when she put him in the water to save him from Pharaoh's decree. Moses is saved when he is put in an "ark" on the waters of the Nile.

For a contemporary take on the reading from Hebrew scripture alone, click here.

For an old/new hymn that might be a good addition for this week's worship, see Art&Faith Matters on Facebook. 

Matthew 14.22-33: Walking on Water: An Early Image

Dated around 240 AD, it is billed as one of the earliest images of Jesus in existence.* The house church at Dura-Europos (Syria) appears to be like those mentioned in Romans 15:5 - a private house used as a meeting place for Christians that over time was adapted for Christian worship. One of the rooms served as the baptistery. A basin, looking much like a modern bathtub, was set into the wall to hold water, and the walls were painted with a variety of scriptural stories to illuminate the baptismal theme.

http://ecatalogue.art.yale.edu/detail.htm?objectId=34499

One of the images is the story of Jesus walking on water and Peter sort-of walking on water (Matthew 14:22-33). The wall fragment now in the collection of the Yale University Art Gallery shows a boat in the background carrying the disciples with Jesus and Peter in the foreground. The information on the Yale website identifies the whole figure remaining in the fragment as Jesus, with the upper half of Peter's figure and half of the boat lost. However, the feet of the whole figure are below the waves, which seems to be the sinking Peter, with the figure on the right standing securely on top of the waves. Additionally, in succeeding depictions, the figure of Peter is on the left with Jesus on the right. Perhaps it is the upper half of Jesus that is missing. See the Art&Faith Matters facebook page for additional images of this subject (https://www.facebook.com/artfaithmatters).

The drawings are more illustrative than evocative - simple outlines define the rather geometric shapes of the human figures, the waves, the boat and the rigging. There is not much included in the scene beyond these few elements.

What is perhaps most interesting about this fragment is what it tells us in its setting. Because it is a water image - and an image of Jesus saving one in the water at that - it isn't a surprising choice for the walls of a baptistery. The other images in the room might be cause for reflection on the meaning of this story, though. The series of paintings also offers insight into how early Christians understood this story.

In the wall above the arch above the font is an image of the Good Shepherd with sheep on a hillside. In the lower left hand corner of that same wall is an image of Adam, Eve and a serpent. On the wall at a right angle to the font wall are depictions of several episodes from the gospels: three women at the tomb (closest to the font), the healing of the paralytic, and Christ and Peter walking on the water. On the opposite wall are two doors, and in the space between them was an image of the woman at the well. Beneath that image is a picture of David and Goliath.

What might each of these stories tell us about the story of Christ and Peter's walk on the waves? Does the meaning become clearer with the knowledge that the boat in this fragment sails to the right, following the direction of the paralytic man from the adjoining scene? What might a third-century interpretation of this gospel story have to say to us today?


*For Dura-Europos as early image, see: http://observer.com/2011/09/earliest-known-images-of-christ-on-display-at-nyu/

Candle Stole

Perfect for Baptisms, weddings, as well as general use on days when the liturgical color is white. Stole is white satin with pieced silver satin candle on bottom right. Candle has raw-edge appliqued flame and "water". Water applique, section on top left and back of stole are dark teal/peacock shantung. Approximately 52" from neck seam to bottom edge. Stole is 4" wide at bottom; 2 1/2" wide at neck.

Tiny ink spot on left side (circled). Reduced price. $100.

Designed For You

In addition to studio art and art history resources, Art and Faith Matters' sister site, Lynn Miller Design (http://lynnmillerdesign.blogspot.com/), is a source for commissioned stoles, banners, paraments and other pieces. Through that site you can also commission one-of-a-kind designs for a minister, a confirmand, church officer or just about anyone else. There are readymade stoles - no specific designs, just whatever has inspired the designer - that will change as stoles are bought, sold and replaced. The two stoles below are currently available.

 

In addition to stoles, Lynn Miller Design can create other pieces - from single banners to entire settings. The set pictured below are the Easter hangings for a congregation.

 

See Lynn Miller Design (http://lynnmillerdesign.blogspot.com/) for specifics about these stoles and other textile pieces - banners, paraments and more. Check back for new designs.