Sunday, January 3, 2021

I Samuel 3.1-10: While You Are Sleeping

I Samuel 3 is an exercise in sleeping and waking. Samuel and Eli are asleep. Samuel is awakened, and he wakes Eli. Eli tells Samuel to go back and lie down. Maybe he goes back to sleep? If so, then Samuel and Eli are back asleep. Samuel is awakened, and he wakes Eli. Eli tells Samuel to go back to sleep. Samuel is awakened, and he wakes Eli. This time Eli gets it, and tells the boy Samuel to go back and lie down and wait. So Samuel does, and he hears something he doesn't want to pass along to Eli. The night passes. Whether or not Samuel is able to sleep after that, we don't know, but eventually he relates the vision to Eli after Eli insists. Insists strongly, as a matter of fact. 

One more time, God has spoken to a messenger at night...when the one who would be God's messenger would have expected to be asleep. Jacob with his vision and his wrestling match. Elijah is awakened from sleep by an angel. Even Jesus is awakened from sleep in the boat when the storm arises. It seems that getting a good night's sleep becomes less possible when God needs you to deliver a message. 

I'm sure no one was more surprised than Eli was to be woken up by Samuel. But this seems to be a pattern with God. God shows up and disrupts what looks like it's going to be a regular night's sleep...or a regular life. And the person whose life is disrupted is often not who you'd expect: a not-particularly-skilled public speaker, the youngest of seven brothers, a bunch of fishermen from the sticks, a young unmarried girl. The person called is unexpected. The call is unexpected. It comes at an unexpected moment. 
Bernard Safran. Sleeping (aka Sleeping It Off). 1986. 
For additional information, and a close-up of the brushwork on this painting, click here. Scroll to the bottom and click on the full painting to see the detail. This is a blog post by the artist's daughter.
I do wonder if Samuel was as eager to answer the third time. When he thought it was Eli calling him for assistance, he was eager to help. What did Eli need? Water? Help standing up? A message delivered? But when you know it's God who will be speaking to you...are you a little more nervous about saying "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening." Who knows what God will ask you to do? 



There is an interesting detail that often doesn't show up in depictions of I Samuel 3:1-10. Go to this week's Art&Faith Matters on Facebook to see what it is. 

Tuesday, December 29, 2020

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.
 

Monday, December 28, 2020

Epiphany: Meh...

The conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn that happened right before Christmas had some people in a tizzy. Others not so much. I am firmly in Camp Tizzy. I had my camera and tripod set up looking toward the southwest sky. Because I live in a decent-sized city, I had to deal with light pollution in general, and my across-the-street neighbors have blue icicle lights hanging across the front of their house. I'm fine with the blue lights, but they did cast an interesting light. I took dozens of photos of these two small points of light, closer together than they had been seen at night in 800 years.

In 1226, when a conjunction this close was last seen at night (which means everyone can actually see it), Francis of Assisi was still alive (he died in October 1226). Notre Dame de Paris was still under construction, and the roof structure had just been redesigned using that latest architectural innovation, the rib vault. Frederick II was the Holy Roman Emperor, Henry III was King of England, and Louis VIII was King of France.

I was smitten.
Photo by Lynn Miller. You are welcome to use it, but please give credit. 

And then I read comments by friends (and their friends) on social media pooh-poohing the idea that this might have been the "Christmas Star."

"Who would travel to see that?"

"The Christmas star looked like this!" (accompanied by a piece of clip art that included a cruciform star casting its beams in the four cardinal directions)

"I wasn't impressed."

"God would do better than that."

Now, I don't know exactly what the Christmas star was (planetary conjunction? supernova? something else entirely?), but it made me stop and think about "spectacle" and the Christmas story. First, if the magi were students of the stars, maybe this is exactly the kind of occurrence for which they would have traveled to get a better view. Though Jupiter and Saturn meet about every 20 years, the next conjunction that comes close to this one is in 2080. Sixty years from now. How many of us will still be here? Maybe this is more special than it looks.

And I have to think that something like that was the sentiment of the magi when they showed up with their extravagant gifts and the recipient was the infant son of a Jewish peasant couple. This has to be more special than it looks. And, of course, for those of us who follow Jesus, it is. What looks to the world like any set of parents and their baby is God's message of love and salvation to and for the world. And the message wears diapers and spits up. Who would travel to see that?

Epiphany means manifestation, something that embodies something else, especially a theory or abstract idea/ Jesus is the manifestation of Emmanuel, God with us. But you could be forgiven if you didn't get that right away. The story of Epiphany is the story of dreamers. Of people who follow stars and see royalty in babies. Nothing meh about that.

For NASA's information on the Great Conjunction, click here.