Isaiah 58.1-12: God's Choice

The Epiphany 5A reading from Hebrew scripture is pretty direct. Isaiah 58:1-12 is a conversation between God and the nation.
   God: Go ahead. Tell the people what is wrong with how they are living. They keep saying to me,    People: "We fast, but you aren't looking. Why should we humble ourselves if you aren't going to notice."
   God: You only fast so you can quarrel about it. That kind of fasting won't get my attention. Do you think that's the kind of fasting I want? The kind of fasting I want is this:
     loose the bonds of injustice
     untie the people who are yoked together...in fact, break all the yokes
     let the oppressed go free
     share your bread with the hungry
     bring the homeless into your homes
     clothe the naked
     Do those things. Then you'll have my attention.

Helen Siegl was born in Austria in 1924. She grew up in in Vienna during the years when National Socialism was on the rise in Germany and Austria was annexed by them. She was in Austria in the years of World War II and in the post-war years. Siegl immigrated to Canada, where she met and married Theodore Siegl. Theodore was named conservator of paintings at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, and the family, which would grow to include eight children, settled in Pennsylvania.

Helen Siegl. Isaiah 58:7. Block print. 

In the print here Siegl illustrates Isaiah 58:7. She includes the text of the verse and a depiction of the living out of that text. It's a direct illustration of a direct instruction from God. Get rid of pointing fingers and gossiping and burdening others, start feeding the hungry and help those who are in need. Then your lives will begin to shine like the sun at noon, then I'll be guiding you through the empty places, then you'll look like a garden. Then you will be called the repairer of all things: ancient ruins of the past, shaky foundations of the future. You'll make a place where people can live.

It is a pretty direct instruction. So if we don't do these things, then, to use the metaphor found in the gospel reading (Matthew 5:13) have we indeed lost our saltiness? And if we have lost that, then what are good for?

For thoughts on I Corinthians 2:1-16, click here.
For thoughts on salt (general thoughts, not necessarily about Matthew 5:13-20), click here.

Wisdom and Foolishness and Blessings and Woes

The Beatitudes (Matthew's version is 5:1-12) may only feel true if you also know I Corinthians 1:18-31. Both texts are read on Epiphany 3A. Both texts seem to turn traditional wisdom on its head. Who would believe that mourning, persecution and poverty are signed of blessedness? Not most people. But the Corinthians passage reminds the reader that wisdom and foolishness are different when seen through God's eyes.

Paul reminds us that what the world says is foolish - notably the cross and Christ's death on it - is God's wisdom. In God's wisdom, the covenant with Abraham is fulfilled and sinful humans don't have their sins held against them. In God's wisdom, greater love has no one than to lay down life for friends. In God's wisdom, being persecuted for God's sake means you are doing faith right.

Marc Chagall. The Madman Who Sold Wisdom. From The Fables of Jean La Fontaine. 1927-1930. Washington, DC: National Gallery of Art. http://www.nga.gov/content/ngaweb/Collection/art-object-page.41937.html

Russian artist Marc Chagall illustrates the collision of wisdom and foolishness in an illustration that is part of The Fables of La Fontaine.  "The Madman Who Sold Wisdom" (Le Fou qui vent la Sagesse) tells the tale of a fool who announces that he has wisdom for sale. Soon enough people line up to buy wisdom, and what he gives them is a length of cord and a slap on the side of the head. Some were angry that they had paid for this; others simply walk away, believing they will look more foolish if they try to argue with a fool. One purchaser of wisdom goes to a sage to ask for an explanation. The wise person answers that the purchaser should stay as far away from the fool as the length of the cord he received. Anyone who stands closer to that will surely get the same slap on the side of the head. "You weren't fooled," the wise one concludes. "He did sell you wisdom."

God's wisdom. The wisdom of the world. The world's foolishness. The foolishness of God. Blessed are those who...



For thoughts on Micah 6:1-8 click here.

And this week on Art&Faith Matters' Facebook page...something entirely different.

A Great Light

It's the line that echoes from the Isaiah passage (9:1-4) to the gospel reading (Matthew 4:12-23) on the second Sunday after Epiphany(A): The people who walked in [sat in] darkness have seen a great light.

I was all ready to bedazzle this blog post with some of the amazing light installations that contemporary artists are creating. Millions of lights created through actual lights and reflections in mirrored rooms. Images the size of a cathedral wall projected onto...a cathedral wall. Lights that change according to programmed pattern or random change. Clear lights. Colored lights.

And then I wondered if "great light" might mean something else entirely.

Perhaps the light wasn't great because it was a spectacular display of cosmic fireworks. Perhaps the light was great because of what happened by it.

After all, the pyramids of Giza, Gothic cathedrals, the rock churches of Lalibela - all of these were made at a time when the world was (to quote a book title) lit only by fire. Abraham Lincoln didn't learn to read by flipping on a light switch when he got back to the family cabin after working all day. Astronomers around the globe created maps of the heavens. They found those stars with a candle or lantern sitting on the work table next to their telescopes. Any nighttime construction at Stonehenge was done by torchlight. Even for Jesus, who might have been welcomed to earth with a cosmic light show, it wasn't a daily occurrence. And despite what artists might have you believe, there probably wasn't a disk of unnatural light around his head. Someone would have mentioned that. Jesus' life was lit by oil-fueled lanterns and fires.

What might happen, then, when we think about the "great light" that we have seen? Not the star that led magi, but Jesus. How might that great light move us, lead us, call us?

But I can't help myself, so check out the Art&Faith Matters Facebook page for just one of those light installations.

For other thoughts on Isaiah and Matthew, click here.