John 17.6-19: Leaving This World

 In Jesus' so-called "High Priestly Prayer," he prays, "And now I am no longer in the world, but they are in the world, and I am coming to you..." (John 17:11) Jesus did leave this world when he ascended, leaving the disciples standing on Olivet. 

That the disciples were left on the earth as Jesus returned to God is a reminder of the difference between creator and creature. Humans are still in this world, though, and a good effort is expended in helping us see how it feels to leave this world. 

In 1946, rocket scientists in New Mexico launched a captured Nazi V-2 rocket into space. One of the things they equipped the rocket with was a 35mm motion picture camera. Filming as the rocket moved about 65 miles above the earth's surface, the camera captured the first pictures of earth from just beyond the beginnings of outer space. This wasn't the first image of the curvature of the earth, but it gave earth-bound humans a different view of the place where they live. The film and camera survived the rocket's crash landing because it had been secured in a steel container.

First photo from space. October 1946. (White Sands Missile Range/Applied Physics Laboratory)

Almost thirty years later, humans would see this world from even farther away, courtesy of the 'Blue Marble' photo taken by the crew of Apollo 17. 

Jesus' prayer continues, " I am not asking you to take them out of the world, but I ask you to protect them.... They do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world. ...As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world." It's clear from Jesus' prayer that to follow Jesus is to remain here in this world, active, moving, continuing the work that Jesus did when he was in this world. It's not hard to understand, though, why we continually want to see what it's like to be far above it. 

Genesis 1.1-5: Chiaroscuro

God spoke: "Light!" And light appeared. (Genesis 1:3a, The Message). Light. And dark. Each needs the other in order to be defined, particularly in art. If a painting is all light, with no contrasting dark, it feels too simple, too surface. Dark alone is the same way. It is the pairing of the two - light and dark - in various ways that brings variety, and harmony to any work of art. Throughout the history of art, light and dark have been explored and exploited in various ways. 

A strong contrast of light and dark in the visual art is called chiarascuro (/kyärəˈsk(y)o͝orō/), which literally means light-dark (chiaro meaning “clear” or “bright" and oscuro meaning “obscure”' or “dark”). Seventeenth-century Italian painter Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio (usually just referred to as "Caravaggio"), was the painter who first made this strong contrast of light and dark into a trademark of his style. Artists who came immediately after him and followed his style were referred to as Caravaggists. 

Though created centuries after Caravaggio's work, the photograph of a cabbage leaf (below), embodies the ideas of chiaroscuro. The photo's background is a velvety rich darkness, and the topmost parts of the cabbage leaf are the lightest points. Between the background and the highlights is a full range of values. The gradation of light to dark is what creates a sense of three-dimensional form in the folds of the leaf. The sharp meeting of light and dark creates a hard edge that separates the dark background from the lighter leaf. It is the contrast that shows the form.

Edward Weston. Cabbage Leaf. 1931. NY: Museum of Modern Art. 

God spoke: "Light!" And there was light. By that light God saw the individual shapes and forms of what was being created. By that light we all see. God spoke, and there was light, where there only had been darkness. Jesus, the light of the world.

The word photography literally means "writing with light." In this season of Epiphany, why not try writing with light as a photographic exercise. See Art&Faith Matters on Facebook for tips.
 

Genesis 15.1-18: Promises, Hope, and Vultures

Abram was asleep - in a deep sleep - when the covenant was actually sealed. The covenant where Abram was promised that his descendants would inherit and inhabit land. God was the only one who ratified the covenant, passing between the animal pieces as a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch. Abram never walked between the pieces. God's promise to be faithful was a one-sided promise.

Before Abram's sleep, though, he had followed to the letter God's directions in gathering animals and slaughtering them as part of the covenant ritual. He placed the animal pieces as directed, presumably out in the open. Sensing blood and death, birds of prey (in some places translated vultures) swooped in. When they did, Abram shooed them away, keeping them from preying on the elements that spoke to his relationship with God.

God's faithfulness. Human insufficiency. Raptors.

Kevin Carter. Starving Child and Vulture. 1993.

The story of this photo and the photographer who took it is not straightforward. The photo raised questions from the moment it was published. Why would the photographer sit and wait for a photo rather than helping the child and/or shooing away the vulture? What happened to the child? How could God allow something like the famine and poverty in Sudan? Some of the questions have been answered. But the questions raised in light of scripture and image together may be especially pertinent during Lent. There are any number of questions brought about by the juxtaposition. These are some.

• Abram was careful not to let the birds of prey disturb the sacrificed animals for the covenant ceremony. How do you hear that in light of this photo?
• God's covenant with Abram required the sacrifice of animals. Ultimately even God's son was sacrificed like one of those animals. How can we talk about that in light of this photo?
• God's honor is at stake in the making of the covenant. The implication of moving through the sacrificed animals is something like, "If I don't keep the covenant I am making, may I be like these animals." Is God's honor at stake in the photo?
• Abram placed his trust in God's promise. He had hope for his future - for descendants - because of his trust in God. How do we talk about hope in God's promises in light of this photo?
• Lent is a season of penitence. What does this photo call us to repent? 
• In light of this photo how do we talk about giving something up as a Lenten sacrifice?

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook, a Bible illustration of Genesis 15:1-18. More or less.

For thoughts on Luke 13:31-35, click here.