Visual Art – Art & Theology

Roundup: Sister Wendy on the art of Holy Week, Fernando Botero’s “Via Crucis,” and more

March 1, 2026March 3, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones1 Comment

BOOK: The Art of Holy Week and Easter: Meditations on the Passion and Resurrection of Jesus by Sister Wendy Beckett (2021): Sister Wendy Beckett, a British Catholic nun and art enthusiast who died in 2018, is the one who first got me interested in art history. We watched clips from her BBC series Sister Wendy’s Story of Painting in my studio art class in high school, and I was so drawn to the way she looked at art and talked about it. Enthusiastic, warm, inquisitive, spiritually sensitive and theologically astute, and interested not just in the technical qualities of a work but also in its content—though I know I lack the same flair, my own voice and approach when it comes to art are indebted to hers.

So I was delighted to see that SPCK (and IVP in North America) has published two church calendar–based art devotionals by Sister Wendy: one for Lent, and one for Holy Week and Easter. I was disappointed with The Art of Lent: It has an admirable diversity of art selections, but Sister Wendy’s reflections are short and basic, and most don’t shine in the way I’ve come to expect from her; there were only two standouts for me. I also found it thematically confusing (for example, a section on “Confidence”?), unfocused, and redundant (especially in the “Silence” and “Contemplation” sections). I will grant that Lent is a more difficult season to structure for a project like this than Advent is, as I found the one year I published a daily Lent series; it can mean many things to many people.

Sister Wendy’s The Art of Holy Week and Easter, on the other hand, I did enjoy and recommend. I wish it had the same variety as the Lent book. (There’s only one modern/contemporary painting.) I care for only about half the featured artworks—two favorites are below—but even for the ones I was disinclined toward, her commentary helped me appreciate them.

Peter's Repentance — Cristoforo de Predis (Italian, 1440–1486), “Saint Peter realizing he has thrice betrayed Jesus,” from the *Leggendario Sforza-Savoia*, 1476. Codice Varia 124, Biblioteca Reale (Royal Library), Turin, Italy.

About a medieval manuscript illumination of Peter weeping by Cristoforo de Predis, Sister Wendy writes:

This magical little picture presents an unforgettable image of grief. It is that most painful kind of grief, lamenting of our own folly. Here we see Peter with his shamed face covered, stumbling blindly forward from one closed door to the next. There are ways out behind him, but Peter is too lost in misery to look for them. This claustrophobic despair, this helpless anguish, this incapacitating sense of shame: these are the result of a sudden overturn of our own self-image.

Peter had honestly seen himself as one who loved and followed Jesus, priding himself, moreover, on how true his loyalty was in comparison with that of others. ‘Even if all should betray you, I will never betray you’ – it was a boast, but he had meant it. Now he sees, piercingly, that he is fraudulent. He has been unmasked to himself, he has lost his self-worth.

The crucial question is: What next? Will he hide his face forever, destroyed by self-pity? Will he lose all heart, perhaps even kill himself, as Judas did? But while Judas felt only remorse, Peter feels contrition, a healing sorrow that will lead to repentance and a change of heart. Now that he knows his true weakness, he will cling to Jesus as never before. He will cling in desperate need and not in false strength, and will in the end become truly Peter, the ‘rock’, on which the Church, likewise dependent on Christ, will be built. (26)

El Greco_Christ crucified with Toledo in the Background — El Greco (Greek Spanish, 1541–1614), *Christ Crucified with Toledo in the Background*, 1604–14. Oil on canvas, 111 × 69 cm. Fundación Banco Santander, Madrid.

About El Greco’s Christ Crucified, she mentions how “Jesus . . . dies looking upwards, his determination set upon his Father’s will and its consummation. . . . His body spirals upwards like a white flame, radiating out as he spreads his arms to share the light with the defeated shadows” (38).

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HYMNS:

>> “O Love, How Deep, How Broad, How High”: I’ve enjoyed learning a few new-to-me hymns from the YouTube channel of Josh Bales. Attributed to the fifteenth-century German-Dutch Catholic mystic Thomas à Kempis, this hymn text was translated from Latin into English by Benjamin Webb in 1871. It appears in the Episcopal hymnal with the tune EISENACH by Bartholomäus Gesius, as adapted by Johann Hermann Schein in 1628, which is what Bales sings. It’s rare among hymns for emphasizing that our salvation was won not just by Christ’s death but also by his life—his faithful obedience to the Father.

>> “I Stand Amazed (How Marvelous)”: A favorite from my childhood, this 1905 gospel hymn by Charles H. Gabriel is performed here by the Imani Milele Choir, made up of orphaned and/or vulnerable children and youth from Uganda.

>> “Come Let Me Love”: I recently learned of this shape-note hymn from a book I’m reading by J. R. Watson. Written by the late great Isaac Watts, the text was first published in the 1706 edition of Watts’s Horæ lyricæ with the title “Christ’s Amazing Love and My Amazing Coldness.” I especially love verses 4 and 5, reproduced below. The tune in the following video, LAVY, is actually a new one (from 1993) that sounds old, by John Bayer Jr.

Infinite grace! Almighty charms!
Stand in amaze, ye rolling skies!
Jesus, the God with naked arms,
Hangs on a cross of love and dies.

Did pity ever stoop so low,
Dress’d in divinity and blood?
Was ever rebel courted so,
In groans of an expiring God?

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VIDEO: “Christ by Eric Smith”: This is the first video in the (Catholic) Archdiocese of Brisbane’s four-part Art Aficionados series from 2022. In it, Archbishop Emeritus Mark Coleridge, theology professor Maeve Heaney, and Rev. Dr. Tom Elich of Liturgy Brisbane discuss the semiabstract Ecce homo painting Christ by the modern Australian artist Eric Smith—its pathos, calm, and double irony. This Christ is crushed yet composed, Coleridge says. Smith won the prestigious Blake Prize for Religious Art six times, including, in 1956, for a painting similar to this one (see second image in slideshow below). I’d love to see more dioceses releasing videos like this!—close looking at art.

The other videos in the Art Aficionados series are on The Stories That Weren’t Told by Lee Paje, The Good Samaritan by Olga Bakhtina, and The Visitation by Jacob Epstein.

Eric Smith (Australian, 1919–2017), Christ, 1956. Oil on Masonite, 138 × 95 cm. Collection of Holy Spirit Seminary (Queensland Provincial Seminary), Banyo, Brisbane, Australia. Photo courtesy of Tom Elich.
Eric Smith (Australian, 1919–2017), The Scourged Christ, 1956. Oil on Masonite, 116 × 85 cm. Penrith Regional Gallery, Emu Plains, Australia.
Eric Smith (Australian, 1919–2017), Head of Christ, 1954. Oil on wood, 47 × 39.4 cm. Collection of Newman College, University of Melbourne, Australia.
Eric Smith (Australian, 1919–2017), Head of Christ, 1954. Oil on Masonite, 40.5 × 32.6 cm. Art Gallery of South Australia, Adelaide.

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ART SERIES: Via Crucis: La pasión de Cristo (Way of the Cross: The Passion of Christ) by Fernando Botero: Executed in 2010–11, Via Crucis is a series of twenty-seven oil paintings and thirty-four mixed-media drawings by Colombia’s most famous artist, Fernando Botero (1932–2023) [previously]. Botero said he turned to the subject of Christ’s passion not because he’s religious, but out of admiration for the great works of art on the subject; he approached it with “a spirit of great respect,” aiming to portray God as a tortured man. The artist donated the series to the Museo de Antioquia in Medellín for his eightieth birthday. I can’t find a compilation of the whole series (the museum has digital records of the Boteros in its collection, but not all the images are showing up for me)—but you can view fourteen of the paintings in this article, and here’s a quick little Facebook reel.

Marlborough Gallery in New York offers a catalog of the series for $75, and Artika offers a much more expensive one (a gorgeous product, but $9,500!):

Here’s a news segment, in English, about the series’ exhibition at Lisbon’s Palacio de Ajuda in November 2012 (unfortunately, the video quality is low):

Botero, Fernando_Via Crucis — Fernando Botero (Colombian, 1932–2023), *Crucifixión* (Crucifixion), 2011, and *Jesús y la multitud* (Jesus and the Crowd), 2010. Oil on canvas. Museo de Antioquia, Medellín, Colombia.

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I have thematic playlists on Spotify for Lent and Holy Week—for the latter, don’t miss “From the Garden to the Tomb” by The Soil and The Seed Project, one of several recent additions.

But, by popular request, I also have a brand-new March 2026 playlist, a somewhat random assortment of songs I’ve been enjoying—some new releases, some not.

Roundup: Kyries for Lent, refugee-themed art exhibition at Portsmouth Cathedral, “Forevergreen,” and more

February 21, 2026March 2, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones3 Comments

NEW BOOK: Bread and Wine: Readings for Lent and Easter, Second Edition: Plough is the publishing house of the Bruderhof, an international Anabaptist communal movement. This year they released a revised and expanded edition of their popular Lent and Easter devotional, increasing the original seventy-two entries to ninety-six to cover the full fifty days of Easter—although the last section is themed around Pentecost. The selections are all from previously published material, but what a treasure-house has been curated here from across denominations, countries, and eras, from early church fathers to medieval mystics to modern saints. Clement of Rome, Julian of Norwich, Kahlil Gibran, Watchman Nee, Gonzalo Báez Camargo, Thomas Merton, Simone Veil, Howard Thurman, Toyohiko Kagawa, Barbara Brown Taylor, Jürgen Moltmann, Tish Harrison Warren—these are some of the many voices included here that reflect on and expound the beautiful truths of the Lent and Easter seasons. Each reading is just a few pages long, so it’s easy to pick up with your morning coffee or just before bed.

Besides the expansion, other changes I’ve noticed in this edition are:

Thinner pages, which, despite the additional content, reduce the overall thickness of the book
The epigraph at the beginning of each reading was removed, as these were not the authors’.
Thirteen of the original readings were replaced, possibly due to permissions costs, but maybe also just to get in some fresh voices or content, and in one case, to remove an accused sex abuser.
A misattribution in the original to Mother Teresa was corrected to Joseph Langford, who founded the Missionaries of Charity Fathers with her.
There is a slight reordering of readings so that pertinent meditations appear during Holy Week.

I’ve provided a link to the Plough book page above, but you can also purchase through Amazon or your retailer of choice.

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SONGS:

I grew up in an independent Baptist church, ignorant of most of the historic prayers of the church at large. The first time I ever heard the phrase “Kyrie eleison” [previously] was on track 5 of the Christian recording artist Mark Schultz’s 2001 album Song Cinema, which is a cover of an eighties rock song by Mr. Mister. I was in middle school, and I had to look up what it meant. Derived from a prayer found in multiple places in the Psalms and the Gospels, “Kyrie eleison” (pronounced KEER-ee-ay eh-LAY-ee-sohn) is Greek for “Lord, have mercy,” and it’s traditionally followed by “Christe eleison”—Christ, have mercy. An inheritance from early Eastern Christian liturgies, it has been part of the Ordinary of the Catholic Mass since the fifth century, which means it’s recited or sung in every eucharistic service regardless of the liturgical season, and it’s used in many other Christian traditions as well. I’ve never been part of a church that sings the Kyrie, but I occasionally sing it in my personal devotions. It’s been set to music by hundreds of composers, for choirs, contemporary bands, and more. Here are two settings that I’ve recently come across and enjoy, followed by a song that entreats (God’s?) mercy on father, brother, church, country, and every living thing.

>> “Kyrie (Lord, Have Mercy)” by Robert Alan Rife: This song was written by Robert Alan Rife [previously], a minister with the Evangelical Covenant Church, serving in Edinburgh. It’s performed here by worship musicians at Great Road Church (formerly Highrock Covenant Church) in Acton, Massachusetts. The lead vocalist is Caelyn Jarrett Poetz; she’s accompanied on guitar by her dad, Travis Jarrett, the church’s music pastor, and Hannah Moulton provides backing vocals. Rife tells me you can purchase the sheet music here, and that other songs of his can be streamed on Spotify, Apple Music, etc.; he has not yet recorded this one, but it’s in the works.

>> “Kyrie” by Paul Smith: This peaceful, resonant setting of the Kyrie was composed by Paul Smith, cofounder of the Grammy-nominated British vocal ensemble VOCES8, who perform it here. The song appears on Smith’s 2025 album Revelations.

>> “Mercy Now” by Mary Gauthier: In this video from the 2010 Americana Music Festival in Nashville, folk singer-songwriter Mary Gauthier (last name pronounced go-SHAY) performs her most famous song, “Mercy Now,” originally released on her 2005 album of the same title. It doesn’t directly invoke God, but it feels like a prayer, asking for mercy (forgiveness, relief, compassion, lovingkindness) first for two family members—her father on his deathbed, and her drug-addicted brother—and then for the institutions of church and state, both in need of repair, and then for everyone: “We all could use a little mercy now / I know we don’t deserve it / But we need it anyhow,” and “only the hand of grace” can give it, can intervene to save us from our self-destructive ways. In response to the song’s being listed as “one of the saddest 40 country songs of all time” by Rolling Stone in 2014, Gauthier said, “It is not a sad song. It is about hope.”

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EXHIBITION: Sanctuary by Nicholas Mynheer, February 18–April 12, 2026, Portsmouth Cathedral, UK: One of my favorite artists, Nicholas Mynheer, has a show that opened on Ash Wednesday at Portsmouth Cathedral, aka the Cathedral of the Sea, and that will continue for the duration of Lent plus some. “The exhibition features paintings and sculptures that explore the experiences of refugees, both ancient and contemporary. The story of Jesus, Mary and Joseph fleeing to Egypt sits alongside the realities faced by people crossing the English Channel today. Mynheer’s work doesn’t offer easy answers – instead, it asks questions. What would we do if our home were no longer safe? How do we respond to those seeking refuge? What does it mean to hope for a better life when the risks are so great?”

Mynheer, Nicholas_The Holy Family Cross the English Channel — Nicholas Mynheer (British, 1958–), *The Holy Family Cross the English Channel*, 2025. Oil on canvas, 30 × 30 cm.

View artworks from the exhibition on the artist’s website at https://www.mynheer-art.co.uk/gallery/sanctuary-exhibition.html. Follow him on Instagram @mynheer_art. Mynheer writes:

As an artist, one of the themes that I’ve been drawn to repeatedly is that of the Holy Family on the Flight to Egypt. The fact that even Jesus, Mary and Joseph became refugees to escape the wrath of Herod reminds us that it could happen to any one of us.

Over the past years we have become increasingly aware of the plight of refugees; from Syria, Afghanistan, Ukraine, Somalia, along with daily reports of refugees attempting to cross the English Channel. Whether they flee from war, persecution, famine, political instability or for economic reasons, the risks are the same; all driven by hope, the hope of a better life.

I often wonder what I would do if I lived in a country ravaged by war? What would I do if I was persecuted for my faith, my colour or my culture? What would I do if scrolling on my phone, others’ lives seemed easier, happier, and all I had to do was get there?

It is my hope that these meditations in paint and stone might draw us in to question how we might respond if we, like Jesus, Mary and Joseph, were forced to seek refuge; to be refugees . . . to search for Sanctuary.

Starting February 25, Portsmouth Cathedral is offering a free four-week Lent course (classes are in person on Wednesday evenings) inspired by the exhibition. The first class will be a talk by Mynheer himself, and the other three will be led by clergy, exploring biblical themes of journey, rescue, and redemption through the art on display.

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CALL FOR ART: The Valley of Dry Bones, Museum of the Bible, Washington, DC: “The Valley of Dry Bones art invitational seeks to inspire the creation of new artwork based on Ezekiel 37:1–14, the biblical vision in which God brings life, renewal, and restoration to a valley of dry bones. Museum of the Bible invites Christian and Jewish artists residing in the continental United States to create original pieces in a variety of media that show their personal and spiritual reflections on this powerful theme. The goal is to show how the Bible can shape modern art and give visitors a meaningful way to connect with biblical themes through creativity. Museum of the Bible will choose 15 artists through a national call and design a professional exhibition to showcase their art from May 7–November 7, 2027. The museum will also help promote the artists and their work through talks, social media, and special events. Each artist chosen will be paid a stipend of $3,000 to cover the costs of creation, travel, and shipping.” Entry deadline: April 24, 2026.

Here’s a double print on the subject by my friend Margaret Adams Parker, aka Peggy:

Parker, Margaret Adams_Ezekiel 37 — Margaret Adams Parker (American, 1948–), *Ezekiel 37*, from The Vigil Etchings, 2013–14. Etching with roulette and aquatint on Somerset velvet white paper, each 8 1/2 × 5 1/2 in. Edition of 15.

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SHORT FILM: Forevergreen (2025), dir. Nathan Engelhardt and Jeremy Spears: With the announcement of the 2025 Academy Award nominations last month, I learned that Forevergreen is one of five nominees for Best Animated Short Film! Written and directed by two Christians in the animation industry (employed by Disney but working independently here) and executed by a team of over a hundred, Forevergreen is a thirteen-minute gospel-oriented film in which “an orphaned bear cub finds a home with a fatherly evergreen tree, until his hunger for trash leads him to danger.” I found out about it last November through the music artists who wrote the soundtrack, Josh Garrels and Isaac Wardell, and am delighted to see it recognized in such a huge way. I really dig its unique animation style, which uses whittled wood figures. The movie is currently streaming for free on YouTube (see embed below), but if you want to see it on a big screen, check your local theater listings.

Ash Wednesday: All Flesh Is like Grass

February 18, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones1 Comment

All flesh is like grass
and all its glory like the flower of grass.
The grass withers,
and the flower falls,
but the word of the Lord endures forever.

—1 Peter 1:24–25

LOOK: French Exit by Tadao Cern

Cern, Tadao_French Exit — Tadao Cern (Lithuanian, 1983–), *French Exit*, 2020. Installation of dried grass.

In this installation by Tadao Cern, hundreds of thousands of dried grass stalks are suspended from the ceiling, creating a dense cloud under which viewers can walk. It’s an organic memento mori, a reminder of death. The title, French Exit, refers to the act of leaving a social gathering or a date without saying goodbye. The artist said he wanted viewers to consider their farewells.

Throughout the duration of the installation, some of the dead grass falls from the hovering field onto the floor, to be swept away.

LISTEN: “All Flesh Is Like the Grass (1 Peter 1:24–25)” by Fernando Ortega, on The Shadow of Your Wings: Hymns and Sacred Songs (2006)

All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away
All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away

The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls
The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls

But the word of the Lord
Endures forever
The word of the Lord
Endures forever

All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away
All flesh is like the grass
The grass withers and fades away

The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls
The glory of man, like a flower
That shrivels in the sun and falls

But the word of the Lord
Endures forever
The word of the Lord
Endures forever

Roundup: Ants after Carnival, organic memento mori, “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski, and more

February 13, 2026February 18, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones1 Comment

Lent starts next Wednesday, February 18, so I want to remind you about my Lent Playlist on Spotify. There are plenty of songs for contemplative listening throughout the season. I periodically add new entries to the bottom. Recent additions include a song by Amanda Held Opelt about being in the belly of a whale; “Living Water” by Sr. Miriam Therese Winter of the Medical Mission Sisters; Paul Zach’s cover of Johnny Cash’s “The Beast in Me”; and a setting of Matthew 4:17 by Seth Thomas Crissman of The Soil and The Seed Project, whose parallel verse, Mark 1:15, is commonly recited with the imposition of ashes on Ash Wednesday.

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VIDEO ART: Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue) by Rivane Neuenschwander with Cao Guimarães: When visiting the Museum of Modern Art in New York last month, I encountered a video work from Brazil that I found mesmerizing. The Perez Art Museum Miami describes it this way:

In Rivane Neuenschwander’s video Quarta-Feira de Cinzas / Epilogue (Ash Wednesday / Epilogue), made in collaboration with artist Cao Guimarães, ants become the protagonists of a captivating journey. Shot on Ash Wednesday, after the end of Brazilian Carnival, the video follows a colony of leafcutter ants as they traverse the rough terrain of a forest floor, transporting pieces of colored confetti to their underground nest. The video is set to a digitally composed soundtrack that blends ambient natural sounds with the sound of matchsticks dropping onto the floor. At the video’s end, we watch the ants descend into the darkness of their nest, intent, perhaps, on furnishing a celebration of their own.

You can watch a one-minute clip from the nearly six-minute video on Guimarães’s website: https://www.caoguimaraes.com/en/obra/quarta-feira-de-cinzas/.

Originating in the Middle Ages, Carnival—from the Latin carve vale, meaning “flesh, farewell!” (flesh = meat)—is a period of merrymaking before the solemn restraints of Lent. It’s primarily a secular folk custom, celebrated by many with hedonistic parties involving excessive drinking. But Carnival need not be debauched, and some Christians celebrate it with social gatherings, games, parades, and/or food traditions. A Polish Catholic coworker of mine would always bring pączki (jelly donuts) to the office on Fat Tuesday (Mardi Gras in French), the day before Ash Wednesday. Some churches host a pancake supper on that evening, using up eggs, milk, and sugar, ingredients that were historically forbidden during Lent, along with bacon and sausage. At The Liturgical Home, Ashley Tumlin Wallace describes Fat Tuesday as a transition day moving God’s people out of Epiphanytide.

Neuenschwander and Guimarães’s Ash Wednesday / Epilogue is, first and foremost, fun and playful. We don’t tend to think of insects having parties! I wonder what the ants are doing with those vibrant little metallized discs. But the video also, for me, captures something of the tone of the first day of Lent—a quiet sweeping up after the previous day’s festivities, the humans of this place having left their revelries to go to church, where they enter a time of penitence.

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BLOG POST: “Ash Wednesday” by Libby John: I really appreciated these four guided journal prompts that Libby John, founder of the Vivid Artistry creative collective, gave last Lent:

What is something in my life I am seeking for God to renew and restore?
What rhythms in my life need to be interrupted and reoriented to God’s heart for me?
What are some ways I can surrender my schedule to help attune my senses to more of God’s presence?
Am I bringing my whole self to God or do I divide and keep parts of my life from him?

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ARTICLE: “Anya Gallaccio’s Organic Mementos Mori” by Eliza Goodpasture, Hyperallergic: Rotting apples threaded with hanging twine, shriveling red daisies pressed between plexiglass, burning candles creating waxen landscapes on aluminum foil, a hundred-plus-year-old ash tree stricken with ash dieback disease—these were among the memento mori (reminders of death) installed at artist Anya Gallaccio’s exhibition preserve at Turner Contemporary in Margate, England, in fall 2024. “The potency of the transient works is so magnetic,” writes reviewer Eliza Goodpasture. “The Christian motif of dust to dust undergirds it all. . . . The artist reminds us that decay is full of energy—not just an ending, but part of an endless circle of life.”

Gallaccio, Anya_Falling from grace — Anya Gallaccio (Scottish, 1963–), *Falling from grace*, 2000. 2,700 Gala apples, hop twine. Installation view at Turner Contemporary, Margate, 2024. Photo: Jo Underhill, courtesy of the artist.

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SONGS:

>> “Turning” by Deanna Witkowski: Deanna Witkowski is a jazz composer and pianist living in Chicago. She wrote this choral piece for Lent, a season in which the liturgies call us to turn away from sin and toward God. That’s what repentance means: changing direction. The first verse is taken from Psalm 119:36–40. “Turn our hearts, O Lord, from selfish gain to your commandments . . .”

For a 2023 performance by the Hendricks Chapel Choir at Syracuse University, see here. Purchase the score here.

>> “Miraculous Salvation” by Tenielle Neda: This song by the Australian singer-songwriter Tenielle Neda praises God for the grace he lavishes on us and for his great love. Backing vocals are provided by Chris Cho.

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CAROL TEXT: “Revert, revert” by James Ryman, ca. 1492: Medievalist Eleanor Parker shares this Lenten carol text by the fifteenth-century Franciscan friar James Ryman, from Cambridge University Library MS Ee 1.12. The burden (repeated stanza) is “Revert, revert, revert, revert; / O sinful man, give me thine heart”—an echo of Isaiah 44:22, “Return to me, for I have redeemed you.” Written in Christ’s voice, it calls us to remember how he took on our flesh, was baptized, and was flogged and crucified for our sakes. I think the shield in stanza 3 refers to the cross; the Via Dolorosa was a battlefield on which Christ fought the devil, and paradoxically, the instrument of his execution was the means of victory.

Roundup: Stained glass by Kerry James Marshall, “Still I Rise” choreography, Black Liturgies, and more

February 5, 2026February 5, 2026 Victoria Emily JonesLeave a comment

February is Black History Month, and while I endeavor to showcase Black art year-round, today’s post gives it dedicated attention.

VIDEO: “Kerry James Marshall, Now and Forever; Elizabeth Alexander, ‘American Song,’ Washington National Cathedral,” Smarthistory, January 22, 2024: Art historian Beth Harris and Kevin Eckstrom, former chief public affairs officer of Washington National Cathedral, explore the latest artwork to be permanently installed in the US capital’s “house of prayer for all people”: two Now and Forever stained glass windows by Kerry James Marshall, depicting a march for racial justice. Unveiled on September 23, 2023, these replace windows that memorialized Confederate generals Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson, which had been donated by the United Daughters of the Confederacy and installed in 1953. (For my international readers: The Confederacy was a group of eleven Southern US states that seceded from the Union in 1860 and 1861 to preserve the institution of race-based chattel slavery on which their plantation economies relied; its government was dissolved in 1865 following the end of the Civil War, but its legacy continued.)

In 2015, when a white supremacist, who touted the Confederate flag as symbolic of his ideology, murdered nine Black churchgoers in Charleston, South Carolina, Washington National Cathedral’s dean at the time, the Very Rev. Gary Hall, called for the removal of the Lee-Jackson windows, which initiated a two-year discernment process involving ample community discussions. The cathedral finally took down the windows in 2017 following a white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, that claimed yet another life. The Very Rev. Randolph Hollerith, then the dean, said the windows “were a barrier to our mission, and an impediment to worship in this place.” Their removal and the installation of the Now and Forever windows in their place were funded by private foundations.

Marshall, Kerry James_Now and Forever — Kerry James Marshall (American, 1955–), *Now and Forever*, 2023. Fabricated by Andrew Goldkuhle. Stained glass windows, south outer aisle, bay 7, Washington National Cathedral, Washington, DC. Photo: Steven Zucker.

“American Song” by Elizabeth Alexander, commissioned by Washington National Cathedral and inscribed below Kerry James Marshall’s Now and Forever windows in bay 7. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.

In addition to commissioning Marshall to design new windows, the cathedral commissioned the Pulitzer-nominated poet Elizabeth Alexander, who wrote and read “Praise Song for the Day” for President Barack Obama’s 2009 inauguration, to write a poem for this occasion. Titled “American Song,” it is inscribed on two limestone tablets beneath Marshall’s windows. The Windows Replacement Committee gave both artists this assignment:

We seek to tell a story of resilience, endurance, and courage that gives meaning and expression to the long and arduous plight of the African American, from slavery to freedom, from alienation to the hope of reconciliation, through physical and spiritual regeneration, as we move from the past to present day. The artist will capture both darkness and light, both the pain of yesterday and the promise of tomorrow, as well as the quiet and exemplary dignity of the African American struggle for justice and equality and the indelible and progressive impact it has had on American society. Each artist should respond in his or her own creative way to these ideals and aspirations, framing both the earthly and the divine, within the sacred space of the Washington National Cathedral.

When I was there last year, I asked the guide why the signs the figures hold don’t bear any of the more familiar slogans of our historical moment, such as “Black Lives Matter.” She said the artist deliberately did not want to tether the protest to a particular time period, in order to emphasize that the struggle for racial equality is ongoing. “Fairness,” “No Foul Play,” “No,” “Not”—these are expressions of demand and defiance that could apply to a number of justice-related issues and that encompass people of all races.

Learn more at https://cathedral.org/college/windows/.

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DANCE: “Still I Rise,” choreographed by Sean Cheesman: I really miss the TV show So You Think You Can Dance, which had aspiring dancers train across genres—contemporary, hip-hop, ballroom, jazz, etc.—with renowned choreographers, performing to compete for the title of “America’s favorite dancer.” It was entertaining, impressive (the athleticism!), and often moving. Here’s a contemporary routine choreographed by Sean Cheesman to spoken word artist Alexis Henry’s reading of a classic poem by Maya Angelou about Black strength and defiance. It’s danced by Koine “Koko” Iwasaki, Kiki Nyemchek, Taylor Sieve, and Mark Villaver. It’s from season 14, episode 12, which aired September 4, 2017.

(Another memorable Cheesman-choreographed dance from season 14 is an African jazz duet to Sheila Chandra’s “Speaking in Tongues II,” which unfortunately, I cannot find online.)

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ARTICLE: “Stephen Towns’ Quilted Works Emphasize Black Joy as Resistance in ‘Safer Waters’” by Kate Mothes: Through June 14, the Wichita Art Museum in Kansas is hosting the exhibition Safer Waters: Picturing Black Recreation at Midcentury, featuring eleven quilts and six paintings by the Baltimore-based artist Stephen Towns [previously]. Black history has always been an important aspect of Towns’s work, and in this series he was inspired by historic photographs (by Bruce Mozert) of Paradise Park, a segregated attraction in Silver Springs, Florida, that operated from 1949 to 1969 and that was popular among Black vacationers, providing a space for leisure and togetherness away from Jim Crow.

Towns, Stephen_All We Knew Was Joy — Stephen Towns (American, 1980–), *All We Knew Was Joy*, 2025. Natural and synthetic fabric, polyester and cotton thread, cubic zirconia, glass beads, and shell, 55 × 65 1/2 in.

Towns began his Paradise Park series in 2022 after reading Remembering Paradise Park by Cynthia Wilson-Graham and Lu Vickers, and this show is a continuation of it, for which he made seven new quilts (pictured in Mothes’s article). His art is displayed alongside some of Mozert’s photographs and related objects from Florida archives and collectors. See an exhibition walk-through on the artist’s Instagram page; see also photos from the opening on January 16–17.

Here is a short 2024 interview with Towns about this body of work, as presented at the earlier exhibition Private Paradise: A Figurative Exploration of Black Rest and Recreation at the Rockwell Museum in Corning, New York:

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SONGS:

Gospel music is one of the many gifts the Black church has given the world. Here are two songs from that distinctive choral tradition.

>> “Perfect Praise (How Excellent)” by Brenda Joyce Moore, performed by the Sunday Service Choir: Written in 1989 based on Psalm 8, this song gained recognition through its performance on the 1990 album This Is the Day by Walt Whitman and the Soul Children of Chicago, featuring Lecresia Campbell. It has since become a gospel choir standard, though often with the lead vocals eliminated (and that part taken by the full choir). It’s performed in this video by Sunday Service at the Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord in Paris on March 1, 2020.

>> “He’s a Wonder” by Jamel Garner, performed by the Chicago Mass Choir, feat. Cornelius Owens: This song about Jesus’s miracles is from the Chicago Mass Choir’s 2024 album Greater Is Coming.

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PODCAST EPISODES:

>> “Artist Archetypes with Jakari Sherman,” Be. Make. Do., January 21, 2025: I really enjoyed this conversation with Jakari Sherman on the soul|makers podcast hosted by Rev. Lisa Cole Smith, where he describes his journey as an artist and a believer. Sherman is a choreographer within the tradition of stepping, a percussive dance practice in which dancers use primarily their hands and feet to create music. Stepping comes from the African American Greek letter organizations and has roots, Sherman explains, in the antebellum South, where enslaved people had their drums taken away and thus had to find ways to express the rhythms they felt using just the floor and their own bodies. (Tap evolved largely for the same reason.)

Sherman is the creative director of [Jk]creativ, a multidisciplinary company developing purpose-driven and truth-seeking cultural works. From 2007 to 2014 he served as the artistic director of Step Afrika! and has continued to develop and direct works for them, such as Drumfolk and The Migration (which I saw in 2024 and was excellent). To establish a foundation for his scholarly research on the history of stepping, he completed a master of arts program in ethnochoreology at the Irish World Academy of Music and Dance in 2015. Below is a trailer for one of Sherman’s latest works, Our Road Home, an interactive rhythmic production that meditates “on what is means to find freedom—and to live it fully in body, soul, and spirit”; it premiered last June as part of a year-long collaboration with the Houston Freedmen’s Town Conservancy.

>> “Cole Arthur Riley – Black Liturgies,” Nomad, February 9, 2024: Tim Nash interviews Cole Arthur Riley, the best-selling author of Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations for Staying Human (which grew out of her popular Instagram account @blackliturgies) and This Here Flesh: Spirituality, Liberation, and the Stories That Make Us. She is a wise, feeling, richly spiritual and embodied writer and speaker whose work I’ve appreciated. In this conversation she discusses her hang-ups with the Book of Common Prayer; battling chronic illness; balancing the active and contemplative lives; the revival of lament; self-sacrifice versus self-care; her experience of white people engaging with her work (“I like to think that there’s something mysterious that’s healed in us when we encounter each other’s interior worlds; when we hear words written by a Black woman toward God, that that could somehow move someone in some way, and move us closer to each other”); and what hope means to her and where she sees signs of it.

Even though I, as a white person, am not the intended audience for the book Black Liturgies, in reading it, I found it meaningful to listen to the cries of Riley’s heart. While many of the prayers are particular to the experience of being Black, still many others are general enough that they could be prayed by anyone. Part 1, organized thematically, consists of chapters such as “Dignity,” “Wonder,” “Doubt,” “Lament,” “Rage,” and “Rest,” whereas part 2 contains prayers for dawn, day, and dusk as well as for the liturgical year, secular holidays, and life occasions. I like the names for God with which she opens each prayer—e.g., “God of the shadows,” “God who expands,” “Divine Labyrinth,” “God aware,” “God of locked doors,” “God who reclaims,” “God our home,” “God of delight,” “God of the art that will never be seen,” “God who whispers”; it has prompted me to consider the names and descriptions I use for God and how they influence how I pray.

To give you a flavor of Black Liturgies, here are two prayers from the book (and note that prayers are only one component; also included are letters, quotes, questions for contemplation, confessions and assurances of pardon, and benedictions):

For Marveling at Your Own Face

God of the flesh,
When we consider what is worthy of our wonder, it is easy to forget our own faces, our bodies. The world is relentless in indoctrinating us into self-hatred—into anti-Blackness, into transphobia, into misogyny in all forms. We are slowly and steadily brainwashed to despise our own faces from the time we’re tall enough to stare up at ourselves in the mirror. How can we resist this? Let the tyranny of the mirror be no more. May it instead become a portal—to delight, to pleasure, and to love. These noses, these hips, the way our hair rises and falls. The memories etched into our hands and faces. Remind us of the miracle of flesh that grows back, of blood that pulses warm beneath the skin that holds us. Of bodies, these holy beautiful bodies, that are working a thousand unseen miracles just so that we can read these lines, breathe this air, cry or not cry. As we peer into the face before us, remind us that we are something to behold. We believe; forgive our unbelief. Ase.

For Those Who Doomscroll

Still God,
We confess that we are addicted to pessimism. Although we rarely name it as such, so much of our attention is devoted to negativity. Show us how we use technology to soothe and stir the aches in us. Keep us from turning control over to our anxiety, that it would no longer feed itself with news of tragedy and impending disaster. It is easy to become lost, buried in the quicksand of digital catastrophe. Draw our attention upward. Guide us to look away habitually; and not just away, but up at the sky, the grass, the table. Guide us inward as well. Acquaint us with goodness again. In the world, and in ourselves. Let us follow the children, freed from the grip of seriousness. Renew our playfulness. Lead us into wise rhythms of engagement, retreating to rest and breathe. Remind us that there is much the world needs, including our attention to atrocity—but if we watch the world burn for long enough, the fire will become our only reality. Amen.

“Unfinished” by Nellie deVries (poem)

February 2, 2026February 3, 2026 Victoria Emily JonesLeave a comment

Rembrandt_Simeon in the Temple — Rembrandt Harmensz. van Rijn (Dutch, 1606–1669), *Simeon in the Temple*, 1669. Oil on canvas, 98.5 × 79.5 cm. Nationalmuseum Stockholm, Sweden. Photo: Erik Cornelius.

after Simeon in the Temple, 
Rembrandt, 1669

Fingers stretch
as if supplicating hands
are interrupted—
the answer placed
in his waiting arms.

Light glistens on his temple—
the mind consoled
by consolation’s burden.

Death takes the prophet;
takes the artist
before his painting is complete;
takes the one
already bearing sin’s stripes.

So certain are the words
“It is finished.”

Originally published in the anthology Adam, Eve, and the Riders of the Apocalypse: 39 Contemporary Poets on the Characters of the Bible, edited by D. S. Martin (Cascade, 2017). Used by permission of the poet.

Nellie deVries is a retired nurse and a poet from Michigan. Her debut book of poetry is forthcoming from Wipf & Stock in 2026.

Roundup: New Matthew-based album, favorite reads from 2025, Australian Indigenous art exhibition

January 9, 2026January 17, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones4 Comments

SPOTIFY PLAYLIST: January 2026 by Art & Theology: Almost every month I compile thirty faith-inspired songs on Spotify—roughly two hours of listening—to showcase just a sampling of the well-crafted, spiritually nourishing music that is out there. Though this is several days late, here are some songs to kick off the new calendar year.

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NEW ALBUM + OTHER RESOURCES: Matthew: Gospel Collection by The Soil and The Seed Project: Directed by Seth Thomas Crissman, an educator, musician, and pastor in the Mennonite Church, The Soil and The Seed Project is “a community-supported ministry of the church working for spiritual renewal—in individuals, families, and communities—through beautiful, creative resources that help us together turn towards Jesus in the ordinary moments of life.” I always look forward to their releases, the latest of which is a thirty-song “folk opera,” as they call it, based on the Gospel of Matthew, accompanied by seven commissioned linocut prints by Bethany Tobin (free for church use), seven poems by Michael Stalcup, and twenty-five “little liturgies.”

The beautiful opening track, cowritten and performed by Spectator Bird (“Won’t you tell me a story that’s true . . .”), is followed by a range of narrative-based songs (on the Dreams of Joseph, the Temptation in the Wilderness, the Calming of the Storm, the Transfiguration, the Entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, the Resurrection, etc.); settings of the Beatitudes, the Lord’s Prayer, and other teachings from the Sermon on the Mount, as well as cherished sayings about the greatest commandment and Jesus’s easy yoke; songs on parables such as the foolish builder, the sower, the lost sheep; and more. There are far fewer songs about Christ’s passion than I would have expected, but that may be because there’s a relative dearth in music that engages the other parts of the Gospel, or because they anticipate overlap with forthcoming Gospel Collection albums on Mark, Luke, and John. I love what they present here.

Tobin, Bethany_Mary Magdalene and Mary sit opposite the tomb — Bethany Tobin, *Mary Magdalene and Mary sit opposite the tomb*, 2025. Used courtesy of The Soil and The Seed Project.

>> RELEASE CONCERT: On Sunday, January 18, 2026, at 3 p.m. at First Presbyterian Church in Harrisonburg, Virginia, The Soil and The Seed Project are going to perform the entire album from start to finish, with a full band and almost all the contributing artists. Admission is free, but they ask that you consider donating some toiletry items for the local food pantry; there will be a collection box on-site. Find more info at https://www.thesoilandtheseedproject.org/matthew#release-concert.

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END-OF-YEAR READING STATS: My Year in Books 2025 (Goodreads): I read 138 books last year, mostly poetry. Exactly half were written by women—I’ve been more intentional about seeking out female authors, ever since someone challenged me on that. I hadn’t realized how disproportionately I was reading male authors, especially for theology. Nothing wrong with men!—but in the interest of closing the gender gap in my personal reading habits so that I can benefit from a wider swath of voices and support women writers, I commit to reading at least as many women as men each year.

(The book covers in this graphic are randomly generated by Goodreads from my list of read books.)

I’ve mentioned several of my favorite recent reads on the blog already (e,g., A Whole Life in Twelve Movies, An Axe for the Frozen Sea, Picturing the Apocalypse), but let me mention a few more. I wish I had time to write thoughtful reviews. I’m obliged to mention that if you make a purchase from any of the following links, I earn a small commission from Amazon.

Five-star single-author poetry collections:

Mothers of Ireland by Julie Kane
A Metaphorical God by Kimberly Johnson
Magic City Gospel by Ashley M. Jones
Still Pilgrim by Angela Alaimo O’Donnell

Other select books I rated five stars:

Motherhood: A Confession by Natalie Carnes: This one’s hard to describe, but here’s the publisher’s attempt: “What if Augustine’s Confessions had been written not by a man, but by a mother? How might her tales of desire, temptation, and transformation differ from his? In this memoir, Natalie Carnes describes giving birth to a daughter and beginning a story of conversion strikingly unlike Augustine’s―even as his journey becomes a surprising companion to her own.” Despite my not being a mother, this book, which is also about embodiedness, and by a theologian I’ve met at conferences on multiple occasions, really captivated me. Thank you to a reader who purchased it for me from my wish list!
I really love the newish Fullness of Time series from InterVarsity Press, edited by Esau McCaulley, which celebrates the riches of the church year in seven short little volumes. It starts with Advent: The Season of Hope by Tish Harrison Warren and Christmas: The Season of Life and Light by Emily Hunter McGowan. As someone who didn’t grow up observing the liturgical calendar but who now does and gets asked about it by Christians for whom it’s unfamiliar, I find these explainers to be a helpful resource as well as personally enriching, and I look forward to reading more.
Bruegel: The Complete Works: This monster of a book from the art publisher Taschen, which comes in a carrier case, was a present from my husband. It’s beautifully produced, with full-color reproductions, foldouts, essays, and cataloging info. Pieter Bruegel (the Elder), a sixteenth-century Flemish artist, is known for his detailed, densely populated (sometimes a hundred-plus figures!) paintings of biblical narratives and peasant scenes, many of which were copied by his son, Pieter Bruegel the Younger. I give the text four stars but an overall five stars merely for the quality of the images (especially the inclusion of high-resolution details, which are generally not accessible online) and the value of having an authoritative catalog of all the artist’s authenticated works.

Goodreads is a social cataloging website for book lovers. I use it mainly to keep track of the books I’ve read and the ones I want to read. You can also tag books, a feature I use to group by topic or genre, though I’m not entirely consistent with the labeling. I’m a volunteer Goodreads Librarian, meaning I can edit book details and create new book records. Follow me on Goodreads.

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Victoria’s Book Wish List: If you would like to support Art & Theology, buying me a book from my Amazon wish list is one tangible way to do that. (Only those with a US Amazon account can do this, I believe.) The books I read influence the content I write and the artists I feature. I keep this link up-to-date year-round, and it lives permanently on this site’s Donate page (where there’s also a link to give financially through PayPal). I only include books that relate to the objectives of this blog. Thank you to those who have gifted me with surprise shipments throughout this past year! My husband says my eyes light up the brightest when I’m receiving a new book. I think it’s because I delight so much in growing my mind and spirit through wisdom and beauty.

Sometimes people ask me how I decide which books to buy versus which to get from the library. On his Astonishing Things Substack, Wes Vander Lugt shares the criteria he uses—and mine are largely the same. He writes:

Is it a book from a favorite writer that I will want to digest slowly, re-read, and cherish having in my home? Buy it.

Is it a book that piques my interest but the quality of writing and value of the content is relatively unknown? Get it from the library.

Is it a novel from a trusted author that I may not be able to finish in a month and/or will most likely want to re-read or at least revisit for inspiration and reflection? Buy it.

Is it a novel that I can reasonably finish in a month without feeling rushed? Get it from the library, along with the audiobook format if available.

Is it a book by a friend? Buy it!

Is it a book by a writer who feels like a friend, and none of the local libraries have a copy after a reasonable time following the release? Buy it.

Is it a book I would really love to own but my buy-it list is too long? Get it from the library first, and if it strikes a deep chord and the book budget is not maxed out, buy it.

I do get many books from the Linthicum Public Library right down the road from my house here in Maryland, which I usually visit at least once a week. I’m grateful for the service they provide, and for their partnership with Marina Interlibrary Loan, through which I can request books from other libraries in the state. I also regularly borrow movies from the library. However, books that I will take a long time to read, will reference again and again, or would want to lend to a friend—or that simply are not available through the library system in my area but that I desperately want to read and are reasonably priced—those are the kinds I’m likely to add to my wish list or purchase myself.

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EXHIBITION: The Stars We Do Not See: Australian Indigenous Art, November 15, 2025–March 1, 2026, National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC: I saw this show last month, curated by Myles Russell-Cook from the collection of the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, and it was fantastic. I recommend the free guided tour, especially if Aboriginal art is new to you. “Don’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime exhibition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander art—the largest ever shown in North America. Australian Indigenous art is a visual thread connecting more than 250 nations across 65,000 years. Explore its breadth and brilliance through nearly 200 works from the late 1800s to today. You’ll find ochre paintings made on bark, maps of the Central and Western deserts (so-called ‘dot paintings’), groundbreaking works in neon, video, and photography, and more. And you’ll meet iconic artists who maintain and reinvigorate Ancestral traditions—revealing the rich, living history of creativity behind the world’s longest continuous culture.”

Here are some of the photos I took:

Nyapanyapa Yunupiŋu (Gumatj, ca. 1945–2021), Gäna (Self), Yirrkala, Northern Territory, 2009–18. Earth pigments on eucalyptus. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Nyapanyapa Yunupiŋu, Gäna (Self) (detail)
Gulumbu Yunupiŋu (Gumatj, 1945–2012), Garak (The Universe), Yirrkala, Northern Territory, 2008. Earth pigments on eucalyptus. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Gulumbu Yunupiŋu, Garak (The Universe) (detail)
Paintings by (top, left to right) Kunmanara (Patju) Presley, Boxer Milner Tjampitjin, Walangkura Napanangka, Tjayanka Woods, Donkeyman Lee Tjupurrula, Ronnie Tjampitjinpa, (bottom, left to right) Turkey Tolson Tjupurrula, Nora Wompi, Wingu Tingima (×2), Wakartu Cory Surprise, Eubena Nampitjin
Larrakitj (memorial poles) are hollowed eucalyptus logs, carved and painted, made by the Yolŋu people of Arnhem Land, Australia, traditionally to hold ancestral bones, though some, like these, are made exclusively for the contemporary art market and contain no human remains. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Gawirriṉ Gumana (Dhalwangu, ca. 1935–2016), Guyamirrilil (detail), Gäṉgaṉ, Northern Territory, 2003. Earth pigments on eucalyptus. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Malaluba Gumana (Dhalwangu, 1953–2020), Dhatam (Waterlilies) (detail), Gäṉgaṉ, Northern Territory, 2017. Earth pigments on eucalyptus. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Emily Kam Kngwarray (Anmatyerre, ca. 1910–1996), Anwerlarr Anganenty (Big Yam Dreaming), Delmore Downs, Northern Territory, 1995. Synthetic polymer paint on canvas. National Gallery of Victoria, Australia. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Claudia Moodoonuthi (Kaiadilt, 1995–), 360 Flip on Country, Meanjin/Brisbane, Queensland, 2014. Synthetic polymer paint on skateboards. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Yvonne Koolmatri (Ngarrindjeri, 1944–), Magic Weaver, Berri, South Australia, 2005. Sedge, wood. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Tony Albert (Girramay / Yidinji / Kuku Yalanji, 1981–), History Repeats, Meanjin/Brisbane, Queensland, 2022. Found kitsch objects and timber. National Gallery of Victoria, Melbourne. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.

The title of the exhibition comes from the late artist Gulumbu Yunupiŋu, known affectionately as “Star Lady.” She developed “a signature style characterized by dense networks of crosses unified by fields of dots. Each cross represents a star and all that is visible within the known universe, while the dots in between symbolize everything that remains unknown.” See images 3 and 4 in the slideshow above.

After its run at the National Gallery in Washington, The Stars We Do Not See will be traveling to the Denver Art Museum in Colorado, the Portland Art Museum in Oregon, and the Peabody Essex Museum in Massachusetts.

Epiphany: Ecce advenit

January 6, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones1 Comment

LOOK: Adoration of the Magi by Silvestro dei Gherarducci

Silvestro dei Gherarducci_Adoration of the Magi — Silvestro dei Gherarducci (Italian, 1339–1399), *Adoration of the Magi in an Initial E*, cutting from a gradual, Florence, 1392–99. Illumination on parchment, 59 × 40 cm. Morgan Library and Museum, New York, MS M.653.5. All photos by Victoria Emily Jones. [object record]

(See commentary below.)

LISTEN: “Ecce advenit dominator Dominus” (Behold, the Sovereign Lord Is Come), introit for the Epiphany of the Lord, ca. 7th century | Performed by Floriani (men’s vocal ensemble), 2024

Ecce advenit dominator Dominus:
et regnum in manu eius
et potestas et imperium.

Deus, judicium tuum regi da,
et justitiam tuum filio regis.

Gloria patri, 
et filio, et spiritui sancto,
sicut erat in principio,
et nunc, et semper,
in saecula saeculorum. Amen.

Behold, the Sovereign Lord is come, 
and in his hand the kingdom,
and power, and dominion. 

Give the king your justice, O God,
and your righteousness to a king’s son.

Glory be to the Father,
and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit,
as it was in the beginning,
is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.

In the Roman Catholic Church, the introit (sung while the priest approaches the altar for the Eucharist) for the Mass of the Epiphany is derived from three Old Testament texts: Malachi 3:1, 1 Chronicles 29:12, and Psalm 72:1. It communicates the royalty of Christ.

The church has sung this cento since as far back as the seventh century. The musical notation has been preserved in graduals (books that collect all the musical items of the Mass).

Two years ago at the Morgan Library and Museum in New York, I saw an Ecce advenit leaf from a now-dispersed medieval gradual that caught my attention with its glimmering gold. It’s one of twenty-three cuttings that the museum owns from a manuscript made at the Camaldolese monastery of Santa Maria degli Angeli in Florence, Italy, in the late fourteenth century, for the monastery of San Michele a Murano in Venice. The illuminations are by the then-prior (head) of Santa Maria, Silvestro dei Gherarducci.

The primary image on the page is an Adoration of the Magi inside a letter E (for Ecce). When a scene or figures appear inside a large decorative letter at the start of a text section, it’s called a historiated initial.

In the scene, the Holy Family stands at the mouth of a cave—Jesus is seated on Mary’s lap, while Joseph stands beside them holding a vessel that the elder magus handed him, a gift for the Christ child. It was typical for artists to depict the three magi as different ages: young (beardless), middle-aged, and elderly (gray-haired). The oldest of the group kneels on the ground, lays down his crown, and kisses Christ’s feet while the other two await their turn. In the background, a servant restrains two bridled camels.

Across the top and left margins of the page is a colorful vine scroll, and in the lower margin there’s a bas-de-page depicting the magi following the star. I love their fantastic hats! The elder one, astride a horse, points the way forward (the guiding star shines from the left of the page near some blue foliage); the other two follow his direction on camels. In front of the caravan are two servants, one walking on foot with a bag slung over his shoulder, and the other riding a camel beside a second camel carrying a chest that contains the treasures the magi will bestow on the newborn king they’re journeying to pay homage to.

I like to imagine the community of Camaldolese monks in late medieval Venice singing from this choirbook on Epiphany, the lovingly wrought images of Christ-pursuing, Christ-worshipping magi enlivening their engagement with the gospel story and supplementing their own worship.

While monastic choirs have retained the monophonic style of music (that is, a single melody line sung in unison or traded off) that the church used for most of the Middle Ages—what we call Gregorian chant—over time, the church at large developed a taste for more elaborate, polyphonic music (that is, music with two or more simultaneous but relatively independent melodic lines), which came into full flower during the Renaissance and was sung in cathedrals.

To illustrate the difference between medieval monophony and Renaissance polyphony, here’s an example of the latter: the English composer William Byrd’s setting, from 1607, of the Ecce advenit. During his lifetime it was sung in Epiphany services in the Church of England as well as in the manor houses of recusant Catholic families (who were forced by law at the time to worship clandestinely).

Epiphany is no isolated and solitary act. It is a process: it is eternally typical of the Divine character. We will not merely look back over the long centuries at the manifestation that first flashed forth before the eyes of the Three Wise Men. Here and now, God is revealing Himself afresh before our very eyes. . . . For us too, clogged and choked by the dismal sand, there is a star that guides, a God who beckons. If only we would see!

—Henry Scott Holland (1847–1918) [HT]

May you see God’s light and, with curiosity and intent, follow it. Find what it illuminates.

A blessed Epiphanytide to you all.

Christmas, Day 12: Journey of the Magi

January 5, 2026January 5, 2026 Victoria Emily JonesLeave a comment

Today’s art and music selections are not a cultural match—the painting comes from the United States, bears Nigerian, Chinese, and Persian influences, and features a famous Dutch modernist in the corner, while the piano composition, written by a Hungarian based on a Romanian folk tune, comes from Central and Eastern Europe. But I find them to be a great match tonally—they’re both vibrant and spirited—not to mention the subject matter they share.

Tomorrow will be the final post in the daily Christmas series for this liturgical year.

LOOK: The Magi and Mondrian by Tanja Butler

Butler, Tanja_The Magi and Mondrian — Tanja Butler (American, 1955–), *The Magi and Mondrian*. Oil and acrylic on Masonite, cradled with 2-inch unstained birch plywood, overall 10 × 12 in.

Artist’s statement by Tanja Butler [previously], via ArtWay: “The magi represent the cultures of the world, coming from the four corners of the earth to bring homage to the newborn King. The poses are drawn from royal Nigerian sculpture, Chinese paintings, and Persian manuscripts. The magi are forerunners of generations to come; all nations will bring the gifts of their unique cultures. In the bottom left corner Piet Mondrian offers his painting of chrysanthemums, an image reflecting natural order and creative stasis, the single-minded goal for which he sacrificed all nonessentials – a reminder of the determined search of the magi.”

LISTEN: “Trei crai de la Răsărit” (Three Kings from the East), series 1, no. 10 from Romanian Christmas Carols (Sz. 57, BB 67) by Béla Bartók, 1915 | Performed by György Sándor, 1962

“Trei crai de la Răsărit” (Three Kings from the East) is from a suite of twenty very short piano compositions in two series by the Hungarian composer Béla Bartók, which he based on Romanian colinde he had collected throughout the Transylvanian region. This one comes from the village of Rogoz in Bihor County.

Colinde (sing. colindă) are Romanian folk songs sung at Christmastime, typically by small groups of young men who after some rehearsal walk from house to house on Christmas Eve, caroling at each door. As Bartók himself noted, not all the colinde texts relate to Christmas; many regale folktales, ancient battles yarns, and pagan myths about nature and spirits. Christianity in Romania has absorbed and transformed some elements of the region’s pre-Christian past, integrating winter solstice traditions into a repertoire of Christmas song that also, of course, includes stories of Jesus’s birth.

“Trei crai de la Răsărit,” about the visit of the three wise men, is one of the explicitly Christian colinde. As the piano prances, I can picture the travelers riding with excitement toward Bethlehem.

Though I’ve found a few slow, somber Romanian songs with this same title, I’ve been unable to find the particular tune Bartók adapted for this più allegro (more lively, faster) movement that concludes the first series of his Romanian Christmas Carols. I’m curious to hear a vocal version and to know the lyrics—which Bartók had suggested be printed above the right hand in the score, an idea his publisher decided against.

To listen to the full suite as performed by Dezső Ránki and to follow along with the sheet music, see this video (“Trei crai de la Răsărit” occurs at 4:39–4:54):

Roundup: Slaviiq in Alaska, Shrine of the Three Kings in Cologne, and more

January 4, 2026January 5, 2026 Victoria Emily Jones1 Comment

ARTICLE: “Witnessing the Divine: The Magi in Art and Literature” by Robin Jensen, Bible Review: In this 2001 article, art historian Robin Jensen traces the development of the tradition of the magi through early Christian art (catacomb frescoes, sarcophagi and funerary plaques, church mosaics) and literature.

Adoration of the Magi (catacombs) — *The Adoration of the Magi*, 3rd century. Fresco, Capella Graeca, Catacomb of Priscilla, Rome. Photo: Vincenzo Pirozzi.

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SONGS:

>> Slaviiq (“Starring”) carols in St. Paul, Alaska: In the mid-eighteenth century, Russian Orthodoxy was the first Christian denomination to take root in Alaska; Siberian trappers arrived as part of the “fur rush,” and many ended up marrying local Native women, bringing their religion into their new and growing families. Now Orthodoxy is widely practiced in Unangan (Aleut), Alutiiq (Kodiak), Yup’ik, and Tlingit communities.

Adapted from a custom originating in the Carpathian Mountains, Slaviiq (also spelled Slaviq, Slaaviq Selaviq, or Slavii), meaning “Starring,” is a multiday Native Alaskan Orthodox Christmas celebration beginning on the Feast of the Nativity of Christ on January 7. It involves processions into homes with a large decorated pinwheel star, caroling in English, Slavonic, and Native languages, traditional foods, prayers, and blessings.

The following video is a five-minute clip from a Slaviiq celebration in 2022 on Saint Paul Island, one of the homes of the Unangan people. Community members Aquilina Lestenkof and George Pletnikoff Jr. sing a few songs while a youth spins the Christmas star.

To learn more about the Slaviiq tradition, see:

Catherine Madsen, “Following the Star,” University of Alaska Department of Music
Nina Shultz, “Slaviq: An Expression of Native Alaskan Orthodoxy,” Journal of the International Society for Orthodox Music 8, no. 1 (2024): 68–78

>> “Bright Star,” arranged for string quartet by Ellie Consta and performed by Her Ensemble: Published in 1968, the Christmas song “Bright Star” was a collaboration between poet Janice Lovoos and composer Margaret Bonds [previously]. Her Ensemble, a UK-based women’s orchestra founded by violinist Ellie Consta to perform and promote music by female composers, encountered the song in 2021 through Lara Downes’s solo piano arrangement and decided to arrange it for strings. “We wanted to keep it as close to the original as possible because it’s just so beautiful as it is,” they write, “but we did add a couple of very subtle harmonics in the background to add a little extra Christmas charm!”

It’s an instrumental performance, but here are Lovoos’s lyrics:

Bright star, glist’ning star, shining on that holy night,
guiding shepherds in their flight to Bethlehem;

Bright star, guiding star, leading to a blessed abode,
three wise men on camels rode to Bethlehem;

Bright star, glimm’ring star, floating in your cobalt sea,
won’t you light the way for me as you did them in Bethlehem;

Sweet star, holy star, won’t you shine as bright today,
bright as when the Christ child lay
in his manger in the hay in Bethlehem, in Bethlehem.

>> “Songs of Thankfulness and Praise,” performed by Josh Bales: The Episcopal priest and singer-songwriter Josh Bales introduces an Epiphany hymn from 1862 by Christopher Wordsworth, nephew of the Romantic poet William Wordsworth. Observed annually on January 6, Epiphany (meaning “manifestation”) celebrates three events in which Jesus’s identity was made manifest: the visit of the magi, Jesus’s baptism in the Jordan, and Jesus’s first miracle at the wedding at Cana. The Western Church focuses on the magi, the Eastern Church on the baptism. Read the lyrics at Hymnary.org. The tune, SALZBURG, was composed by Jakob Hintze in 1678.

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VIDEO: “Nicholas of Verdun, Shrine of the Three Kings, Cologne Cathedral,” Smarthistory: I visited Cologne for the first time in fall 2025. I loved it. My only disappointment was that access to its cathedral’s most beautiful art object, the Shrine of the Three Kings, was obstructed, with the entire sanctuary and choir areas roped off, even though there was no Mass in session. I, a Protestant, was indifferent to the relics inside—the purported skulls of the magi—that have made Cologne an important pilgrimage destination since the Middle Ages. I merely wanted to see this extraordinary twelfth-century metalwork I had read about in art history books, the high point of Mosan art, from the renowned workshop of Nicholas of Verdun. If time had allowed, I could have paid for a tour that would have brought me a little closer but still at a distance. Instead, I had to resort to awkward viewing angles through metal bars.

However, a month after I returned home, Smarthistory uploaded a video that gives a closer look at the shrine, with lovely detail photographs by director Steven Zucker.

Adoration of the Magi and Baptism (Cologne) — Nicholas of Verdun and workshop, *Shrine of the Three Kings* (front view), ca. 1181–1220. Oak, gold, silver gilt, copper, enamel, jewels, 155 × 112 × 224 cm. Cologne Cathedral, Germany. Photo: Steven Zucker.

The short end that faces out toward worshippers portrays, in pure gold, the Adoration of the Kings, with the three traditional sovereigns accompanied by a fourth, the Holy Roman emperor Otto IV. (He had paid for the shrine’s production—following the magi’s example, he donated a materially precious gift in homage to Christ.) To the right of this scene is the Baptism of Christ.

The figures on the sides represent prophets, apostles, and evangelists.