Showing posts with label icon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label icon. Show all posts

Sunday, November 10, 2019

Luke 23.33-43: King and Kin

Remember me when you come into your kingdom. That's the request made by one of the thieves being crucified with Jesus. Jesus' response is a promise that the one thief will be with him in paradise. Not at some unknown time in the future, but that very day. (Luke 23:43) It is a promise that clearly shows who Jesus is. Even in this moment, Jesus offers the gift of relationship to the thief. With me, Jesus says.

But you'd never know that from most of the images of the crucifixion. In most images, three crosses, each with a human figure, are separated completely from each other. Sky, clouds, or other background elements are clearly visible between either the outstretched arms of the cross or the bent arms of the thieves. This separation clearly reflects the relationship between a king and the residents of the kingdom. Royalty does not mix with common people. Remember Lerner and Loewe's King Arthur sitting around wondering, "What do the simple folk do?" Pietro Lorenzetti (below left) captures the distance between Jesus and the thieves. His perspective seems to indicate that the two crosses are behind Jesus'.

But the text tells us that Jesus is reaching out to those around him. In that, Jesus is acting more like kin than king. He will not be separated from people who reach out to him. The icon fragment (below center) gives a hint of that.
(Left) Pietro Lorenzetti. The Crucifixion. 1430s. NY: Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Center) Crucifixion with Two Thieves. 8th century. St. Catherine Monastery, Sinai, Egypt. (Right) Hans von Tubingen. Crucifixion. c. 1430s. Vienna: Osterreiche Galerie Belvedere. (currently unable to connect link)
The thief at Jesus' right in the icon fragment (above center) is placed literally under Jesus' hand. The blood from the wound in Jesus' hand seems to be pouring onto the thief's head. It might even be that in this moment, the thief is being "washed in the blood of the Lamb," becoming part of the family.

The Hans Tubingen painting (above right) places Christ's hand above the thief on his right, but there is distance between hand and head, and there is no blood tying the thief to Jesus. However, the head of the thief on Jesus' right leans his head toward Jesus insuring that his head is (at least in the picture space) under Jesus' hand.

In this painting, though, we see what is happening with the other thief, and what is happening is a complete rejection of Jesus. Though Jesus' hand is placed so that it could be in a visual relationship with the head of the thief on the left, the artist has curved that thief's torso over the top of the tau-shaped cross. He appears to be leaning back as if to move himself as far away from Jesus as possible. Rejecting Jesus as both king and kin.

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

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Exodus 20.1-17: Every Sunday

Every Sunday is a little Easter. That's what Christians say. And during Lent, there are those who give permission to skip their Lenten discipline on Sundays, because nothing tops Easter. The root of Easter, of Sunday, of Shabbat is, of course, creation. The Decalogue makes that clear in verses 8-11 of the reading from Hebrew scripture for Lent 3B (Exodus 20:1-17). For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.

But we rarely see it. It used to be slightly more common. The two examples below are from previous centuries, so in them God is depicted as a bearded man. On the left is a Creation icon from Russia focusing on the seventh day and God's resting from work. In the version here, God has abandoned his throne for his bed and is literally napping, though his right hand is making a gesture, apparently of blessing.
(Left) God Rested on the Seventh Day. c. 1550. Museum of Russian Icons, Clinton, MA. (Right) Julius Schnorr von Carolsfeld. Woodcut for "Die Bibel in Bildern", published in 1860. Universitats Bibliothek Heidelberger, Germany.
The image on the right is a mid-19th century woodcut Bible illustration from Germany. God is still a bearded man, but he does not lie down on a bed. His eyes are closed, and his hands are crossed and in his lap as he sits on a mandorla of smoke or clouds with the earth as his footstool. The days of creation are marked by elements like the sun, moon and stars and the indication of oceans and dry land on the earth. A similar composition is found in a 12th-century mosaic in the Cathedrale de Monreale in Sicily. 

The subject is harder to find in contemporary art, perhaps because we overvalue work and undervalue sabbath. The small piece shown here, created by the artist as a seminary student, uses parchment panels to represent the six days of creation. The piece speaks to God's rest by taking the form of a hammock, and the text citation is written on the wooden stretcher.
The reminder is important, if only occasionally highlighted in contemporary life. Even God rested. Perhaps that's something we might take up as a Lenten discipline.


For thoughts on the Gospel reading for Lent 3B (John 2:13-22) follow this link.
For thoughts on wisdom and foolishness (cf. the Epistle reading for Lent 3B, I Corinthians 1:18-25), click here.
For a Facebook look at the Ten Commandments and Lent, click here.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Mark 8.31-38: I Have a Cross...You, Too?

Take up your cross and follow. That's one of the familiar phrases from the gospel reading for Lent 2B (Mark 8:31-38). An image search for the phrase yields many, many (many!) silhouetted figures against a sunset. The icon below offers a different visual as saints take up their crosses and follow Jesus. Like all icons, space is not dealt with realistically. Human figures do get smaller as they recede back in space, but there are only half-figures - no legs extend below any of the cross bars. But the intent is clear in the text in the top right quadrant of Christ's cross: 
ἀπαρνησάσθω ἑαυτὸν ἀράτω καὶ σταυρὸν αὐτοῦ καὶ ἀκολουθείτω μοι
let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me
The placement and pattern of the crosses calls to mind the pattern of the polystavrion (poly- "many", stauros, "cross"), the liturgical vestment worn by bishops and pictured in the icon below (The Three Holy Hierarchs - Sts. Basil the Great, John Chrysostom and Gregory the Theologian). The tessellated crosses and repeated patterns create a bold geometric graphic that looks quite modern. 
But more than just the modern feel, those cross-covered vestments might help us think about the gospel reading in a new way. The icon of those who have taken up their crosses might be merged with the cross-covered vestments. Those wearing the vestments might be helping to carry the crosses of their brothers and sisters in Christ who have taken up their own cross and are following Jesus. While Jesus said that each of us must take up our own cross, is it not true that as followers of Christ, as children of God, we do not follow alone. Rather, borrowing from a well-known rock band, we get to carry each other...or at least share in the carrying of each other's crosses. We get to.


Perhaps a fabric artist in your congregation could help design and fabricate a quilt to embody this idea. People could create "their" cross - perhaps just the cross with their name - in a block that is part of a quilt that moves from one member's home to another, reminding us that we each carry our own cross and share in carrying one another's.

Black and white image from asimplelife Quilts: http://asimplelifequilts.blogspot.com/2014/02/plus-value.html

Check Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page to think about a time when someone helped Jesus carry his cross.
For thoughts on the reading from Hebrew scripture for Lent 2B (Genesis 8:1-17), click here.