Philippians 2.1-13: Empty and Full

Paul wants the Christians at Philippi to make his joy complete (Philippians 2:2). Apparently, his joy is currently only partially full. Paul also reminds the Philippians that Christ emptied himself (Philippians 2:7). What was full has been voluntarily emptied. 

The whole question of whether you see a glass as half-empty or half-full has become some sort of personality evaluation. Are you an optimist? A pessimist? A surrealist? (See the graphic below.) Paul's play with words considers the polarities of empty and filled. 

            

(Left) Tom Brown. Half Empty, Half Full. 

Joy? Should be filled to the brim. Jesus? Voluntarily emptied himself. In fact, in just a couple of verses, Jesus will talk about being "poured out." (Philippians 2:17) I wonder if we get sidetracked testing ourselves to see if we are optimists or pessimists. Perhaps a better question is whether you have a glass or a pitcher or anything that can hold joy and will you give Paul a refill? Do you appreciate Jesus' pouring himself out for you? Do you pour out yourself for others as Jesus has done for you? Do you still care for yourself while you are emptying yourself for others? 

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook...an empty man.

Acts 7.55-60: Glass Houses

If you are an architect, the most famous one is probably Philip Johnson's. But Ludwig Mies van der Rohe did one, too. If you saw the film The Lake House (2006) you saw one that was designed and built for the movie in a matter of weeks and then disassembled at the conclusion of filming. There was one for sale, designed by a student of  Mies. That's right, you could have been one of those people who lives in a glass house.

Mies van der Rohe. Farnsworth House (view toward the Fox River). 1951. Plano, IL

And if you were one of those people, you'd know the truth that people have known since Chaucer first wrote it: Who that hath an hed of verre, Fro cast of stones war hym in the werre! If  your Chaucerian English needs an assist: The man who has a head of glass, should beware of  throwing stones, when he goes to war.  Or, as the proverb has come to us: People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.

The point, generally, is that you shouldn't criticize others for particular faults and/or weaknesses when you have the same faults or weaknesses. That seems to share some commonality with Jesus' comment when he comes across a woman who is about to be stoned after being charged with adultery (John 8:1-11): Whoever is without sin throw the first stone.

Of course Jesus is long gone when Stephen faces the stones in the hands of other people. I wonder if he had heard the story of Jesus and the woman. As his life is ending he prays that God will not hold this sin against those with rocks in their hands.

I also wonder what happened when Saul - by then Paul - heard the story about Jesus and the woman. I wonder if he thought of that day when he watched over the coats of the people who pummeled Stephen with rocks until he died. On the day, of course, he would have claimed that the killing of Stephen was not a sin.  But later, I wonder how he felt Jesus' words to the crowd that was ready and willing to stone that woman.

By then Paul understood that he was one of those people who lived in a glass house and had no business picking up a pebble, much less a rock. The saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the foremost. (I Timothy 1:15)

These days life might feel a lot like living in a glass house. We can see the outside, but we are removed from it. Life is happening out there, and we can see it, but we can't connect with it right now. It's worth remembering that everyone else is living in a glass house, too. So maybe we should keep our hands off the stones.

Is there a family resemblance? See thoughts about John 14:9 on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook.

Ash Wednesday: The Art and Craft

Ashes to ashes dust to dust.

The phrase will be used next week, specifically on Wednesday. It's a reminder that human life is fleeting and that our hope is in Jesus Christ. Ashes - traditionally ashes made from the previous year's Palm Sunday palms - will be imposed in the sign of the cross on the forehead of believers as a visible acknowledgment of the reminder and the hope.

But sometimes ash is far from a symbol of faith and hope. During nine hours in May of 1980, an erupting Mount St. Helens covered about 22,000 miles of landscape with approximately 540 million tons of ash. The ash was as deep as 6 inches in some places. That's no small smear on a forehead.

Mt. St. Helens, May 18, 1980.

What do you do with 540 million tons of ash? 

Artists have an answer. It's glass. 

Glass is made from a mixture of sand, ash, and lime. Add in heat...lots of heat...and the mixture melts to create glass. Glassblowers in the Mount St. Helens area used the ash from the volcano to make glass vessels and ornaments.

It's sort of the recipe for Lent. Begin with ashes, add the "heat" of forty days of penitence, and see what sort of transformation happens. Think of the things that are made of glass: drinking glasses, eyeglasses, windows, suncatchers. How can each of these things illuminate the season of Lent? 

Glass can be colored all the way through by adding colorant to the sand mix or stained on the surface by applying a layer of color which is then fused to the glass in a kiln. What is the difference between the two methods if you look with Lenten eyes?

Ashes are imposed with the reminder that we are made from dust and to dust we shall return. Glass artist William Morris created the piece below, "Hunter," in 1988. A glass skeleton, which begins in part with ash, reminds us of the fragility of human life. 

William Morris. Hunter. 1998.

How we observe the days of Lent impacts, at least a little, how we celebrate on Easter. Glass, as a material and a process, may help us develop and experience a deeper Lent. 

2 Samuel 7.1-16: What Kind of House?

I'll make you a house. No, I'll make you a house. No, I'll make YOU a house. That's the gist of the conversation between God and David in the reading from Hebrew scripture (2 Samuel 7:1-16, Proper 11B/Ordinary 16B/Pentecost 8). Ultimately it is David's descendant who will build a temple for God and the people, and it is David whose descendants will be made into a house.

The desire for a house, a real brick-and-mortar house is a human thing. The human need for the concrete is probably one reason for the incarnation. Jesus is God who becomes flesh and tabernacles among us. All well and good for Jesus, a descendant of David, but David really wanted God to have something more permanent than a tabernacle. David wanted God to have a house at least as impressive as David's own.

There is a fractured version of an old saying that says "People who live in glass houses shouldn't stow thrones." It's true. That was going to be a concern for David - stowing a throne, that is. The throne promised to his "house". The Lord promised David a house, though not exactly the kind he originally envisioned, and David will learn to be OK with that. It's almost as if he knew Psalm 127:1: "Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain."

David's wasn't a glass house, but care is required for any kind of house, maybe especially the kind of house made of fragile, fallible human beings. And who should we trust more than God to build fragile, fallible beings into a house?

Tony Cragg. Clear Glass Stack. 1999. Auckland Art Gallery Toi o Tamacki, Auckland, New Zealand. 

For thoughts on Mark 6:30-34, 53-56, click here.

Acts 1.15-16: Added to the Eleven

Twelve is a number that means something. So when the disciples find themselves as eleven, they determine to add to their number (Acts 1:15-16, Easter 7B). Two men meet the criteria of having been with the group from the beginning: Joseph (aka Barsabbas aka Justus) and Matthias. The lot falls on Matthias, and he is added to the eleven.

And then...nothing. We don't hear anything further about Matthias in scripture. He disappears from view, eclipsed in history (as is almost everyone else in this era) by the work of Paul. In the dome mosaic of the Neonian Baptistery in Ravenna, Italy, twelve figures surrounding the central image of Jesus' baptism at the Jordan. But Matthias is not among the twelve. He has been replaced by Paul. In other artistic depictions, Matthias is mistakenly given the attributes of Matthew, whose name is similar. Matthias is usually shown with the instrument of his beheading.

The narrative episode most often depicted is Matthias' selection as one of the twelve. The disciples are gathered together, and the "lots" are prepared. They may be pieces of paper, a stone or a pebble carved with a symbol. They may be spread out on a table or gathered together in a container. This process was time-honored. In Leviticus (16:8), I Chronicles (25:8) and other places in Hebrew scripture, lots are cast to discover divine will. The lot falls on Matthias. In the stained glass window below, one piece of paper is unrolled, and it has Matthias' name written on it.

 The Election of Matthias as One of the Twelve. 1875. Church of St. Mor and St. Deiniol, Llanfor, Gwynedd, Wales.

Legend says that the remains of Matthias are in St. Matthias Abbey Church in Trier, Germany. At the direction of Helena, the mother of Constantine, the apostle's remains were equally divided between Trier and a church in Rome. On the church's exterior is a sculpture of the apostle standing with the expected halberd and with a book open to John 15: "You are my friends." Inside the church, above the apostle's tomb is a carved effigy. Between the building's exterior and interior, between the apostle's guardpost outside and resting place inside, he has lost his sandals. It is the image of a barefoot Matthias who is at eternal rest. Why is he barefoot? Does that tell us something about him?

Statue of St. Matthias and Effigy of St. Matthias. St. Matthias Abbey Church, Trier, Germany. http://www.abteistmatthias.de/

Ultimately, what are we to do with this man who is chosen as the result of sincere discernment but who leaves no lasting historic record? Perhaps we are to understand that for Matthias it was enough to respond to God's call and then to do the work that God gave him, whether that work made history or not. And perhaps that experience is more like the experience of most of us.

More Easter 7B, more election of Matthias, more stained glass and more bare feet are at the Art&Faith Matters Facebook page. Click here.

For thoughts on John 17:6-19, click here.