Roundup: Gift-wrapping liturgy, feasting without shame, and more

PRAYER: “A Liturgy for the Wrapping of Christmas Gifts” by Wayne Garvey and Douglas McKelvey: Taken from Every Moment Holy, volume 3 from the Rabbit Room Press.

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ART SERIES: Magnificat by Mandy Cano Villalobos: Mandy Cano Villalobos [previously] is a multidisciplinary artist from Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her Magnificat series consists of bundles of discarded clothing, bound in string and meticulously hand-coated with imitation gold. The title—the Latin name of Mary’s praise song that opens, “My soul magnifies the Lord!”—invites associations with the Christmas story, including the image of the swaddled Christ child, a gift to the world that surprises and delights.

Cano Villalobos, Mandy_Magnificat XV
Mandy Cano Villalobos (American, 1979–), Magnificat XV, 2019. Cloth, string, and imitation gold.

Villalobos, Mandy Cano_Magnificat installation
Installation of select pieces from the Magnificat and Cor Aurum series by Mandy Cano Villalobos, December 2020, Sojourn Midtown, Louisville, Kentucky

The series debuted in 2019 at Cano Villalobos’s solo show All That Glitters at the Urban Institute for Contemporary Arts (UICA) in Grand Rapids. I first encountered it, though, through online promotions of Sojourn Midtown’s Advent 2020 installation to correspond with the church’s sermon series Wrapped in Flesh, for which twelve of the artist’s works, some from her related Cor Aurum (Heart of Gold) series, were placed in niches around the sanctuary.

“The objects, all made of wood and fabric covered in imitation gold, point to something both humble and glorious,” writes Michael Winters, Sojourn Midtown’s arts and culture director. “Like these small sculptures of rags and gold, the birth of Jesus was also marked by humility and glory.”

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ARTICLE: “My Swaddled Savior” by Jeff Peabody, Christianity Today: Pastor Jeff Peabody of Tacoma, Washington, describes the traditional Japanese art of furishoki, or wrapping goods in cloths, as he reflects on Jesus having been swaddled as an infant, a wrapped gift given to the world. “Jesus came to us in furoshiki, wrapped in cloths,” he writes.

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BLOG POST: How to receive gifts and enjoy feasting without shame, by Tamara Hill Murphy: In this old blog post of hers, spiritual director and The Spacious Path author Tamara Hill Murphy absolves us of the guilt we so often feel around (1) receiving (unreciprocated) gifts and (2) feasting. We should receive both presents and food, she says, as means of grace. Too often we’re embarrassed when we receive a gift from someone to whom we gave no gift, or a gift of lesser value, and so instead of receiving their gift with joy, we receive it with shame or an annoying sense of obligation. But Murphy says she hopes to receive gifts this way: “When Jesus told us to come to him as little children, he must have been imagining the way children openly, delightedly, innocently receive gifts. Children do not question their place as ones worthy of receiving gifts. Children boldly believe the beauty of unearned kindness.”

As for food, how many times have you been to a Christmas party or dinner and heard people bemoan all the fat and sugar they’ve been consuming, and about how they’ll have to punish their body in the new year to work off the extra calories, to shrink themselves back down to size? Feasting, though, is a spiritual discipline, a way to celebrate important events, like the birth of Christ, with family and friends. Feel no shame about indulging in gustatory pleasures this Christmas! Take in the sweet, the creamy, and the juicy! Murphy’s mom’s motto for hospitality is a wise one: “While we feast, we savor.”

On her blog A Clerk of Oxford, medievalist Eleanor Parker also affirms the virtue of feasting, noting how the popular modern practice of fasting in January runs counter to medieval Christian practice:

Since the late 20th century it’s become common to invert the traditional relationship between fasting and feasting in the Christmas season. The ancient custom was to fast in Advent in preparation for the feast, and then to celebrate for at least twelve days after Christmas (and to some degree, all through January). Now we do it the other way around; for many people the feast is followed by a penitential fast, in the form of ‘Dry January’ or New Year’s resolutions about eating less and going to the gym. As a manifestation of the desire for a fresh start, this ‘new year, new you’ impulse is natural enough, but it does strike me as strange that it’s so often framed in negative terms. There’s an odd sense, encouraged mostly perhaps by journalists and advertisers, that the indulgence of Christmas is a ‘sin’ which has to be atoned for – as if eating and drinking with friends and family, to celebrate the turn of the year from darkness to light, is a moral lapse for which one must subsequently make amends by privation and self-punishment. We are much less kind to ourselves in these weeks after Christmas than the strictest confessor would have been in the Middle Ages. Feasting at Christmas is not something to atone for, but a proper observance due to the season; and that feasting is also the sustenance we need to carry us into the New Year with energy and strength.

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VIDEO: “Our Vocation of Delight: On Advent, Beauty, and Joy” by Christen Yates: In this thirty-minute “Space for God” Advent devotional from Coracle, artist Christen Yates (Instagram @christenbyates) invites us to experience the Christian “duty of delight” through engaging a selection of artworks by herself, Sedrick Huckaby, Letitia Huckaby, and Ashley Sauder Miller. She opens with a liturgical commission she fulfilled for the Advent season while serving as artist in residence at her church in Charlottesville: a portrait painting of congregation member Arley Bell (née Arrington), a baker who is now the owner of Arley Cakes in Richmond. Waiting for her dough to rise, Arley captures the joyful expectancy of Advent.

Yates, Christen_Arley, baker
Christen Yates (American, 1977–), Advent: Arley, baker, 2016. Oil and gold and silver leaf on board, 48 × 18 in. Collection of All Souls Charlottesville, Charlottesville, Virginia. Photo courtesy of the artist.

Advent, Day 18: A Great Light

LOOK: Awareness 30 by Bassmi Ibrahim

Ibrahim, Bassmi_Awareness 30
Bassmi Ibrahim (Egyptian, 1941–), Awareness 30, 2014. Mixed media on panel, 36 × 48 in. (91.4 × 121.9 cm).

LISTEN: “Diboo ning Maloo” (Darkness and Light) by Elfi Bohl, on Barakoo (Blessing), 2004 | Text: Isaiah 9:2, 6; 35:5–6a; Psalm 24:9–10 | Performed by Elfi Bohl, 2021

Moolu menu be taama kang
Diboo kono ye mala baa je
Moolu menu be siring sayaa siiringo la
Mala baa le malata I kang

Refrain:
I ko: dingo wuluta n ye, dinkewo diita n na
Adung a be kumandi la:
Yamaroolu baa, Alla talaa, Badaa-badaa Famaa
Yamaroolu baa, Alla talaa, Badaa-badaa Famaa
Kayira-mansoo

Finkintewol’ ñaal’ be yele la
Tulusuukuuringol’ tuloo be yele la
Namatoolu be sawung na ko minango
Nungunungunaal be sari la sewoo kamma la

Dundandal’ ye yele, dundundal’ ye yele hawu,
Fo Mansa kalangkee si dun nang.
Jumal’le mu ñing Mansa kewo ti?
Alla le mu, Alla meng warata
The people who were wandering in darkness
Have seen a great light
On those living in the land of death
A light has dawned

Refrain:
To us a child is born, to us a Son is given
And he will be called:
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father (2×)
Prince of Peace

Then the blind will see
The deaf will hear
The lame leap like a deer
The mute tongue shout for joy

Open the doors and the ancient gates
That the King of Glory may come in
Who is this King of Glory?
It is God, the Lord, strong and mighty

This song by Elfi Bohl combines three short, Advent-themed scripture passages—two from Isaiah, one from the Psalms—in the Mandinka language of West Africa, which Bohl sings to her own kora and flute accompaniment.  

Originally from Switzerland, Bohl lived in The Gambia from 1989 to 2001 with her husband and three children as a missionary with WEC International. There she learned to play the kora, a twenty-one-stringed harp-lute made of a dried calabash gourd half covered with cow skin. She was initially hesitant to take up the instrument, as it’s traditionally played only by Mandinka men from jali families, a hereditary caste of oral historians, praise singers, and musicians. She thought it might be considered disrespectful for her, a white European woman, to play it.

She already had a background in piano and guitar, but she told me that neither instrument seemed appropriate in the rural Gambian church setting she was in. “At the little church, we sang Christian songs that former missionaries had brought from Germany, the UK, and Australia and had translated into the Mandinka language. The music I heard on the local radio and the songs people were singing sounded very different,” she said. “I started praying and asking God to show me how I could use my musical gift in a culturally relevant way.”

Then one day in 1998, a salesman came to her house trying to sell her a kora, and she thought that maybe this was God’s answer. She decided to give it a try. A local jali agreed to give her a few lessons, teaching her three traditional melodies. She continued practicing on her own and developing her skill, and even started composing some of her own kora melodies to set Bible passages to, as well as arranging traditional ones for the same purpose.

For a while Bohl played only in private, but one day she took a leap of faith and played a kora song in church. The people in the congregation were delighted to hear one of their native instruments and traditional tunes used in Christian worship, and they encouraged Bohl to seek out other opportunities to play in public.

(Related post: “Music making at Keur Moussa Abbey, Senegal”)

Word got out about Bohl’s facility with the kora, and she started receiving invitations to perform in a variety of settings. Eventually she was playing in Muslim villages, prisons, Islamic schools, and at public meetings and government functions. She was even invited to play some of her songs live on Radio Gambia, the country’s national radio broadcaster, and the station also plays recordings from her two albums.

When she was interviewed on the radio, two imams called in, thanked her for honoring their tradition, and invited her to their villages to sing these “deep words from the Qur’an.” Bohl thanked them for the invitation but clarified that the words originated in the Tawurat, the Jabuur, and the Injil—the books of the followers of Isa (Jesus). Even though the lyrics were from the Bible, they still insisted she come. One promised to prepare a meal with goat meat to honor her coming, and the other said Bohl should first come to his village because he would kill a cow for her! It was the public approval of these imams that gave her the freedom to sing and play anywhere.

Bohl’s kora playing has opened up doors for the gospel to enter places that are typically closed to missionaries. “People believe that the kora itself has a spirit that speaks the truth,” Bohl says. In Mandinka culture, if lyrics are accompanied by a kora, the people must pay attention because there’s an important message for them to hear.

A local pastor told her that when he first heard her play and sing, he believed God had called her to The Gambia to become a jali sharing the gospel with the Mandinka, a people group who are almost entirely Muslim.

During Bohl’s radio appearance, the host introduced her as “Jali-musoo [Female Singer] Mariyama Suso.” I asked her how she got that name. She said,

Even before I started to play the Kora, I had been given the name Mariyama. Our local friends asked us if we could take a local name, mainly because it was often hard for them to pronounce our “foreign” names. The surname “Suso” I got, because the surname of the young man who taught me to play the Kora was Suso. The name Suso tells you that its family members by tradition are musicians. Because I was recognised by the Gambian people as one of their Kora players (jali or griot), I was allowed to take on that name. In fact, it is great honour to be called that name.

Here are some of the comments Bohl has received from Mandinka listeners over the years, as she relayed to the organization Wycliffe:

  • “We know these songs and melodies but have never heard these words.”
  • “The fact that you’ve learned to play the kora and sing in our language means you really love us.”
  • “We know the old prophets you sing about. What Allah told them happened. Therefore, you must also be a prophet and we need to listen to you.”
  • “Your songs are educative and soothing for our troubled hearts.”
  • “These songs give me real hope although I know I’m soon going to die.”

When I asked Bohl if she has ever received any pushback from West Africans for playing the kora because of her gender, her non-jali biological lineage, and her not having been raised in the culture, she said the response has been overwhelmingly supportive. The only exception, she said, was when she was performing at a baby dedication, invited by the father of the newborn to announce the boy’s name through song, another kora player entered the yard and started singing over her. He left when the host asked him to, and that was that.

In 2001 Bohl and her family returned to their home country of Switzerland, continuing their work with WEC. She and her husband moved back to West Africa in 2011, but this time to Dakar, Senegal, where they served as regional directors of the missions organization in sub-Saharan Africa until 2019, a role that involved traveling the continent and making connections with people and communities.

Bohl currently lives in Switzerland, coaching and mentoring missionaries and prospective missionaries with an interest in Africa and in using music in ministry. She still plays the kora and writes songs for it.

“The Kora has always been part of our ministry,” Bohl told me.

It has been a wonderful “door and hearts opener” in the many African countries we travelled during our time as regional directors. In the years as leaders of WEC in Switzerland, I shared the testimony of the Kora at many missions conferences and in churches to testify that God uses music and arts to reach people with the gospel. I still share the Kora story and sing songs when given the opportunity. Lately, I also play at programmes for immigrants in Switzerland. There again, the Kora draws people from many, not only African, cultures.


Unless otherwise marked by hyperlinked source, quotes by Elfi Bohl are from my November 2024 interview with her via email. Thank you to Paul Neeley of the blog Global Christian Worship for putting me in touch with her!

Advent, Day 17: O!

LOOK: Untitled by Kiki Smith

Smith, Kiki_Untitled bronze
Kiki Smith (American, 1954–), Untitled, 1992. Bronze with patina, 19 1/2 × 51 × 25 in. (49.5 × 129.5 × 63.5 cm). Edition of 2 + 1 AP. © Kiki Smith, courtesy The Pace Gallery.

LISTEN: “Advent ‘O’ Carol” by Joanna Forbes L’Estrange, 2018 | Performed by London Voices, dir. Ben Parry, on Winter Light, 2024

Refrain:
O, O, O, O, O, O, O
O, O, O, O, O, O, O

We long for your coming, O Wisdom;
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come and teach us the way of understanding;
you are the living Word. [Refrain]

We long for you, O Lord and Ruler;
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come and stretch out your arms and redeem us;
you are the living Word. [Refrain]

We long for you, O Root of Jesse;
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come to deliver us and do not tarry;
you are the living Word. [Refrain]

We long for you, O Key of David;
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come and bring forth the captive from his prison,
who sits in the shadow of death. [Refrain]

Dawn of the East,
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come and lighten those who sit in darkness
and in the shadow of death. [Refrain]

We long for you, O King of the Gentiles;
we long for your coming, O Lord.
Come and deliver man, whom you formed
out of the dust of the earth. [Refrain]

O Emmanuel!
When will you come?
Come to save us, O Lord our God. [Refrain]

Tomorrow I will come.

Revealing different titles of the Messiah based on Isaiah’s prophecies, the seven so-called O Antiphons have been sung, one each from December 17 to 23, since at least as far back as the eighth century. For Christians outside the Roman Catholic Church, these antiphons are probably most familiar as the basis of the Advent hymn “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”

The British composer Joanna Forbes L’Estrange has lightly adapted them and set them to music for unaccompanied SATB choir. She offers the following note:

“Advent ‘O’ Carol” is inspired by the text and chants of the seven “O” Antiphons which traditionally would have been sung in the days immediately preceding Christmas (known as the Greater Ferias). The “O” refrain, which opens the piece and reoccurs between each of the seven verses, is based on the opening melodic chant of the Medieval antiphons, its 7/8 time signature reinforcing the piece’s connection to the number seven.

Ignoring the “O,” the first letter of each verse forms an acrostic which, when reversed, spells ERO CRAS, Latin for “I shall be (with you) tomorrow.” I have reworded this as “Tomorrow I will come” for the final resolution of the piece.

  1. Sapientia (Wisdom)
  2. Adonai (Lord and Ruler)
  3. Radix Jesse (Root of Jesse)
  4. Clavis David (Key of David)
  5. Oriens (Dawn of the East)
  6. Rex Gentium (King of the Gentiles)
  7. Emmanuel

Advent, Day 16: All Things New

LOOK: Contours of Mary’s Dream by Lauren Wright Pittman

Wright Pittman, Lauren_Contours of Mary's Dream
Lauren Wright Pittman (American, 1988–), Contours of Mary’s Dream, 2020. Digital painting with collage, 20 × 20 in. Used with permission.

Contours of Mary’s Dream by Rev. Lauren Wright Pittman of Knoxville, Tennessee, shows Mary, the mother of Jesus, bonding with her in utero son. She sits cross-legged and nimbed, tenderly caressing a hovering gold halo that represents the Holy One, the light of the world, taking shape inside her. Repeated in roundels, the design on her shirt is an upraised, open hand illuminated by sunrays, an allusion to the Magnificat, Mary’s praise song from Luke 1:46–55, which begins, “My soul magnifies the Lord!” A whole world of possibility opens up with God’s taking on flesh. Wright Pittman says,

I have this instinct to read the Magnificat alongside the first creation narrative in Genesis. I imagine Christ taking form in Mary’s womb much like I imagine all of creation emerging at the Creator’s voice. I collaged macrophotography of patterns, textures, and colors from creation—such as sunsets, bird’s feathers, fish scales, galaxies, leaves, planets, fur, water, etc.—and wove them into her hair. Jesus, the thread of creation, is being knit together in her womb. God’s dream for all creation is materializing as cells divide in her body; all the while she sings of a dream, still unrealized.

Creation–new creation, and Jesus the firstborn of both.

There’s wonder and excitement in the image, but there’s also a trace of loss, as the orb that Mary cradles could be seen as not only a potentiality that’s forming, a God-lit body coming to be, but also an absence, the vestigial essence of a boy wrenched from the protective arms of his mother. The artist said she was thinking of the painting Analogous Colors by Titus Kaphar that appeared on the cover of the June 15, 2020, issue of Time magazine, which reported on the nationwide protests in the US in the wake of George Floyd’s murder by a police officer. In Kaphar’s image, a grieving Black mother holds an empty silhouette of her infant close to her chest, alluding to the many African American women whose children’s lives have been taken by police and racist vigilantes.

“When I read the Magnificat, Kaphar’s image came into sharp relief,” Wright Pittman says. “How could I image Mary holding the contours of her dreams for the world, while also holding the contour of her loss? Mary’s son would be publicly murdered at the hands of the state. Mary’s song reverberates for all mothers who have had dreams for their children shattered by senseless violence.”

I originally wrote this description for the Advent 2022 edition of the Daily Prayer Project.

LISTEN: “Behold, I Make All Things New” by Alana Levandoski, on Behold, I Make All Things New (2018)

Behold, I make all things new
Behold, I make all things new
Behold, I make all things new
Let there be light, let there be light

God unseen is taking form
God unseen is taking form
God unseen is taking form
Let there be light, let there be light

First and last is surging forth
First and last is surging forth
The first and last is surging forth
Becoming light, becoming light

Behold, I make all things new
Behold, I make all things new
Behold, I make all things new
Let there be light, let there be light

Advent, Day 15: Among Us

LOOK: Visitation by Beth Felker Jones

Jones, Beth Felker_Visitation
Beth Felker Jones (American, 1976–), Visitation, 2024. Digital collage with AI-generated elements.

Dr. Beth Felker Jones is a theologian who teaches at Northern Seminary near Chicago. This past year she has been making digital collages of biblical figures, especially women, with the assistance of AI technology. She shares them on her Substack, Church Blogmatics, and offers them for free with watermark or just $10 for a high-resolution, watermark-free download.

Her Visitation, she says, “imagines Mary’s visit to Elizabeth in Luke 1, flowing with milk and honey,” symbols of abundance and nourishment. (The promised land is often referred to in scripture using this poetic expression; see Exod. 3:8, Num. 14:8, Deut. 31:20, and Ezek. 20:15.) With the coming of a Savior, a great spiritual bounty awaits God’s people.

Luke the Evangelist describes Elizabeth as “filled with the Holy Spirit” (1:41). The Spirit is present in the center of this collage, silhouetted in purple, the color of Advent. His wings touch the women’s foreheads as if to bless or to join them together in celebration.

Luke also says that John the Baptist “leaped for joy” inside Elizabeth upon hearing Mary’s greeting (1:44), already recognizing that the one she bore was the Messiah. Jones shows this exultation of the in utero prophet. He splashes in the waters of his mama’s womb, as he will one day in the river Jordan, baptizing the repentant. Meanwhile, the great I AM, enfleshed as a preborn baby, sleeps inside a fiery ring in Mama Mary, crowned as king.

The words of Mary’s Magnificat form the backdrop of the scene.

LISTEN: “Among Us” by Nick Chambers, on Advent Songs by Incarnation Music (2023)

My soul will magnify
The Lord who looked on my
Lowliness with grace
My soul will magnify
My neighbor’s precious life
I see Christ in their face

Refrain:
God is among us
In human disguise
Born as one of us
To open our eyes

My soul will magnify
The Lord who took on my
Lowliness in flesh
My soul will magnify
My neighbor’s desperate cry
For in Christ they are blessed [Refrain]

Based on the Magnificat (Luke 1:46–55), “Among Us” by singer-songwriter Nick Chambers highlights how God’s becoming flesh helps us see the imago Dei (image of God) in our fellow humans. There’s an old Orthodox hymn that says, “Christ was born to raise the image that fell of old. Christ came to restore the beautiful image of God within humankind,” the image that had become obscured through sin.

With Mary, Elizabeth, and baby John, let us celebrate the Lord who brings salvation, raising up the lowly, restoring the broken, and reminding us of the dignity and belovedness of our embodied selves.

This is one of eighteen Visitation-themed songs on the Art & Theology Advent Playlist.

Advent, Day 14: Spinning

LOOK: Pyxis with the Annunciation

Annunciation pyxis (Late Antique)
Pyxis with the Annunciation, Byzantine Empire (Minden?), 5th or 6th century. Ivory, height 7.9 cm, diameter 11.8 cm. Museum für Byzantinische Kunst, Bode-Museum, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin. [object record]

According to the Protoevangelium of James, an apocryphal infancy gospel from the second century, the Virgin Mary was raised in the Jerusalem temple from age three and was tasked with weaving the purple and scarlet thread of the veil that shrouded the holy of holies, the temple’s innermost sanctuary. One day while taking a break from this sacred labor to collect water from a well, the angel Gabriel approached her with a greeting: “Hail, favored one. The Lord is with you.” She looked around and saw no one, so she returned to her work indoors.

As she was engaged in her spinning, Gabriel reappeared and delivered the message he had been sent with: that Mary was chosen to bear the Son of God.

This account of the Annunciation gained special traction in the East, where the Virgin Annunciate is almost always shown with a spindle of scarlet thread in her hand, or less frequently, standing at a well—unlike in Western depictions, where she is typically shown holding a book.

The Byzantine art object pictured above is an ivory-carved pyxis (pl. pyxides), a cylindrical container used to store small items, such as jewelry or cosmetics. The Annunciation is one of three scenes represented, the other two being the Journey to Bethlehem and the Nativity (including Salome with her withered hand; see Prot. 19–20). The square to Mary’s left is where the lock case was originally mounted.

In the early fifth century, the prominent Byzantine theologian Proclus of Constantinople (ca. 390–446) developed Mary’s weaving into an extended theological metaphor of the Incarnation. He preached on Mary’s womb as a “workshop” containing the “awesome loom of the divine economy” on which the flesh of God was woven together, providing the bodiless divinity with form and texture. [1] “In the workshop of Mary’s womb, the vertical warp thread of divinity was bound to a weft of virgin flesh,” writes Fr. Maximos Constas (b. 1961), paraphrasing Proclus. [2]

Jesus’s flesh is a kind of clothing—the same we wear—made during Mary’s nine months of pregnancy:

The one who redeemed us was not a mere man. May this never be! But neither was he God denuded of humanity, for he had a body. And if he had not clothed himself with me, he could not have saved me, but in the womb of a virgin the one who pronounced the sentence against Adam clothed himself with me, who stood condemned, and there in her womb was transacted that awesome exchange, for taking my flesh, he gave me his spirit. [3]

Notes:

  1. Nicholas Constas, “The Purple Thread and the Veil of Flesh: Symbols of Weaving in the Sermons of Proclus,” chap. 6 of Proclus of Constantinople and the Cult of the Virgin in Late Antiquity (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2003), 317. The quotations are from Proclus’s Homily 1.I.21–25.
  2. Constas, 357.
  3. Proclus of Constantinople, Homily 1.VIII.122–27, qtd. Constas, 354.

LISTEN: “The Virgin, Spinning” by Katy Wehr, on And All the Marys (2018)

I’m spinning the scarlet and purple—woman’s work
But God is spinning the gold, I see
Weaving a tiny thread like me
Into the grand design to be
The saving of the world

Chosen as the roving fiber—clean and combed
Then dropped and spun and quickly wound
Upon the spindle tightly bound
To serve the One I’m wound around:
The Savior of the world

Refrain:
Son of the Most High, let it be, let it be
Son of God, let it be, let it be to me

In the hands of the Master, I marvel at his ways
He brings me into his weaving room
My heart is stretched upon the loom
The God-man knitted within my womb
The Savior of the world [Refrain]

Bridge:
First to hear, first to hear and believe
First to love, first to love and receive
The Son of God

Will they believe me? I wonder, who can say?
But I will always answer yes
Though a sword may pierce my breast
The Father of my son knows best
The Savior of the world [Refrain]

In “The Virgin, Spinning,” singer-songwriter Katy Wehr takes the weaving metaphor in a different direction than Proclus. Voiced by Mary, the song reflects on how God is weaving a grand tapestry of salvation, in which Mary is a thread.

Advent, Day 13: There Sprang a Flower

LOOK: Lily Among the Thistles by Laura Lasworth

Lasworth, Laura_Lily Among the Thistles
Laura Lasworth (American, 1954–), Lily Among the Thistles, 2001. Oil on wood panel. From the Love’s Lyric series, based on the Song of Songs.

This still-life painting by Seattle-based artist Laura Lasworth shows a beautiful cut lily sharing a vase with a bouquet of twelve thorny, withered stems. The water in which they sit is red. The work’s title is taken from the Song of Songs 2:1–2: in Latin, “Ego flos campi, et lilium convallium. Sicut lilium inter spinas, sic amica mea inter filias,” or from the New Revised Standard Version:

I am a rose of Sharon,
    a lily of the valleys.

As a lily among brambles,
    so is my love among maidens.

While the Song of Songs, written in the wisdom tradition of Solomon, is first and foremost a collection of poems exploring the human experience of love and sexual desire, most Christians also interpret it as an allegory of the love between Christ and his church, or God and the individual soul. In that reading, Christ is the “lily of the valley” who speaks here.

Early Christian writers such as Origen, Hippolytus, Ambrose, Jerome, and Augustine associated the lily of Song of Songs 2:1 with Christ; in the Middle Ages, Venantius Fortunatus (ca. 530–610), Peter Damian (1007–1072), and Bernard of Clairvaux (1090–1153), among others, followed suit. I’m familiar with this floral metaphor for Jesus from a gospel song I grew up singing!

From the fourteenth century onward, in images of the Annunciation, Western artists commonly portrayed either a lily vase on a table, or the angel Gabriel presenting a lily to Mary. The lily became a symbol both Christological and Mariological, signifying the flowering of the Incarnation: God’s pure Son emerging from the virginal stem of Mary.

On December 10, Jonathan A. Anderson, a professor of theology and the arts at Regent College in Vancouver, gave the homily in chapel, using Luke 1:26–38 as his scripture text and exploring Lasworth’s Lily Among the Thistles in relation to it.

Thorns and thistles are an image of cursedness throughout scripture, starting in Genesis 3:17–18, Anderson points out. But in Lasworth’s painting, a lily rises up from the center of that cursedness. “If the thistles visually articulate the groaning of creation and the sorrows of humanity, the lily symbolically inaugurates a newness of life, somehow flowering right in the midst of this,” Anderson says. “The audacious proclamation of Advent is that the Son of God—the Creator and Healer of all things, our tree of life—was born into the brambles of human history and into the bloody heritages that still cry out daily from the ground.”

Anderson considers the polyvalence of Lily Among the Thistles:

In one sense, this is an icon of Christ’s appearance in human history. In another sense, this vase is also an individual heart—my heart, your heart—that has heard the Annunciation for itself amidst its own sorrows and deathliness. . . . Or we might also see this as an icon of creation, simultaneously groaning for the reconciliation of all things and blooming with new creation. And surely, it is an icon of the church, in which we harbor various fertility altars overgrown with thorns and thistles, and yet in which we are a people of the incarnation, people in whom new creation has begun, people through whom the light of the Spirit is already casting the shadows of the redemption of all things.

LISTEN: “There sprang a Flower from out a thorn” | Traditional English carol compiled in Richard Hill’s Commonplace Book (Balliol College MS 354, fol. 222v), early 16th century; translated from Middle English by Jessie L. Weston, 1911 | Music by Dominic Veall, 2017

1. There sprang a Flower from out a thorn,
To save mankind that was forlorn,
As prophets spake before that morn:
Deo Patri sit Gloria!

2. There sprang a well at Maid Mary’s foot,
That turned all this world to good,
Of her took Jesu flesh and blood:
Deo Patri sit Gloria!

. . .

4. From diverse lands three kings were brought,
For each one thought a wondrous thought,
A King to find and thank they sought:
Deo Patri sit Gloria!

5. Richly laden with gifts they fare,
Myrrh, frankincense, and gold they bear,
As clerks in sequence still declare:
Deo Patri sit Gloria!

. . .

9. There shone a star in heaven bright,
That the men of earth might read aright
That this Child was Jesu, King of Might:
Deo Patri sit Gloria!

This song is a choral setting by London-based composer Dominic Veall of a late medieval lyric that begins, “Ther ys a blossum sprong of a thorn”—or, as Jessie L. Weston modernizes it, “There sprang a Flower from out a thorn.” The recording omits stanzas 3, 6, 7, and 8, but you can read the full lyrics here. The Latin refrain translates to “Glory be to God the Father!”

Advent, Day 12: Through the Promise

LOOK: The Kiss by Sophie Ryder

Ryder, Sophie_The Kiss
Sophie Ryder (British, 1963–), The Kiss, 2016. Galvanized steel wire, 579 × 590 × 380 cm. From the 2016 exhibition Sophie Ryder: Relationships at Salisbury Cathedral, England. Photo: Ash Mills.

Ryder, Sophie_The Kiss

A monumental wire sculpture of two hands “clasped in love, friendship or prayer,” The Kiss by Sophie Ryder was one of over twenty sculptures by the artist on display from February 12 to July 3, 2016, in the close and cloister of Salisbury Cathedral. It straddled the path from the High Street Gate to the West Door for the first week but was then moved to the North Lawn after too many oblivious texters bumped their heads on it (despite the six feet, four inches of clearance in the center).

Sophie Ryder: Relationships was curated by Jacquiline Creswell, who specializes in siting contemporary art in sacred spaces.

LISTEN: “View the Present through the Promise” by Thomas Troeger, 1994

>> Traditional Welsh tune (AR HYD Y NOS) | Performed by Crystal Muro, Brenna Boncosky, and Ian Murrell with organist Phillip Kloeckner, First United Methodist Church at Chicago Temple, 2020

>> Music by Benjamin Brody, 2009 | Performed by musicians of First Congregational Church of Houston, 2020

View the present through the promise, Christ will come again.
Trust despite the deepening darkness, Christ will come again.
Lift the world above its grieving through your watching and believing
in the hope past hope’s conceiving: Christ will come again.

Probe the present with the promise, Christ will come again.
Let your daily actions witness, Christ will come again.
Let your loving and your giving and your justice and forgiving
be a sign to all the living: Christ will come again.

Match the present to the promise, Christ will come again.
Make this hope your guiding premise, Christ will come again.
Pattern all your calculating and the world you are creating
to the advent you are waiting: Christ will come again.

Advent, Day 11: Judgment Day

LOOK: The Judgment Day by Aaron Douglas

Douglas, Aaron_The Judgment Day
Aaron Douglas (American, 1899–1979), The Judgment Day, 1939. Oil on tempered hardboard, 48 × 36 in. (121.9 × 91.4 cm). National Gallery of Art, Washington, DC. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones. [object record]

Born in Topeka, Kansas, in 1899, Aaron Douglas moved to New York in 1925 and became one of the leading artists of the Harlem Renaissance. He studied African art and European modernism, developing his own unique visual language that brought together influences from cubism, art deco, and African sculpture.

In his early career he worked as an illustrator for Black magazines, including The Crisis and Opportunity, and accepted a commission by the esteemed poet James Weldon Johnson to illustrate his collection God’s Trombones: Seven Negro Sermons in Verse. After the book’s publication in 1927, numerous other commissions followed, including large-scale murals. In 1944 Johnson established the art department at Fisk University in Nashville and taught there until his retirement in 1966.

The Judgment Day (1939) is based on one of Johnson’s illustrations for God’s Trombones, made to accompany a poem of the same title. It showcases his signature style of silhouetted figures and flat, hard edges.

In the painting, the archangel Gabriel stands astride earth and sea, summoning the living and the dead to judgment with a blast of his horn. He holds the key to the kingdom of heaven, which he’ll open to those who have repented of their sins and trusted in Christ. A bolt of lightning rips through the sky on the left, and on the right, a light ray shines down onto a praying figure who is ready for the great accounting.

LISTEN: “In That Great Gettin’ Up Morning,” African American spiritual | Arranged by Jester Hairston and performed by the Leonard De Paur Infantry Chorus, 1953

I’m a-gonna tell you ’bout the comin’ of the judgment
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
I’m a-gonna tell you ’bout the comin’ of the judgment
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
There’s a better day a-comin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
There’s a better day a-comin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)

Refrain:
In that great gettin’ up morning
Fare thee well, fare thee well
In that great gettin’ up morning
Fare thee well, fare thee well

Oh preacher, fold your Bible
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Preacher, fold your Bible
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
For the last soul’s converted
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Oh, the last soul’s converted
(Fare thee well, fare thee well) [Refrain]

Blow your trumpet, Gabriel
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Blow your trumpet, Gabriel
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Lord, how loud shall I blow it?
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Blow it right calm and easy
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Do not ’larm all my people
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Tell them all to come to judgment
(Fare thee well, fare thee well) [Refrain]

Then you’ll see them coffins bustin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then you’ll see them corpses risin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then you’ll hear that rumblin’ thunder
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then you’ll see that forkèd lightnin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then you’ll see the stars a-fallin’
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then you’ll see the world on fire
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then he will call sinners
(Fare thee well, fare thee well)
Then he will call sinners
(Fare thee well, fare thee well) [Refrain]

Roundup: Adoration ’N Prayze, “Elogio all’Innocenza,” and more

DANCE: “I Wanna Be Ready”: The African American spiritual “I Wanna Be Ready” forms the soundtrack to this iconic solo from Alvin Ailey’s contemporary ballet Revelations. The dancer in this first video is Amos Machanic:

In 2018, in honor of the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater’s sixtieth anniversary, Matthew Rushing, who is currently the company’s interim artistic director, traveled to Ailey’s birthplace of Rogers, Texas, to dance “I Wanna Be Ready” at Mount Olive Baptist Church, one of the few landmarks of Ailey’s childhood that’s still standing in Rogers. He was accompanied live by five local singers. The performance was filmed, edited, and released on YouTube.

I’m so excited that in January, for the first time, I’m going to see AILEY live in New York! The company will be performing three pieces, including the brand-new Sacred Songs, choreographed by Rushing.

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SONGS:

>> “Time Is Running Out” by Adoration ’N Prayze: Adoration ’N Prayze was a female gospel quartet from Detroit that was active in the early nineties, consisting of Damita Bass, Marguerita Bass, Pamela Taylor, and Shontae Graham (later replaced by Audra “Dodi” Alexander). This original song is the title track of their first and only album, released in 1991. The live recording is from a concert they gave at Clowes Memorial Hall in Indianapolis in 1992.

>> “Oil in My Vessel,” traditional gospel song performed by Rani Arbo & daisy mayhem: Rani Arbo & daisy mayhem are a New England–based folk quartet made up of Rani Arbo (fiddle, guitar), Andrew Kinsey (bass, banjo, ukulele), Anand Nayak (electric and acoustic guitars), and Scott Kessel (percussion). This song they perform is based on a recording by Joe Thompson (1918–2012), who was raised in a Holiness Church in Alamance County, North Carolina. Thompson said the song was in his church hymnal, and that he learned it from his mom when he was about five years old (in the 1920s). Its refrain is a statement of intent to “be ready when the Bridegroom comes,” and its stanzas are taken from the seventeenth-century hymn “Must Jesus Bear the Cross Alone?” by Thomas Shepherd and, from the eighteenth century, “Amazing Grace” by John Newton.

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PHOTOGRAPH SERIES: Elogio all’Innocenza (In Praise of Innocence) by Gloria Mancini: Gloria Mancini is an Italian artist working mainly in photography. One of her recent series, divided into three parts, is based on Revelation 3:1–6 (Gli Innocenti, or The Innocents), 12:1 (La Donna Vestita di Sole, or The Woman Clothed with the Sun), and 5:1–7 (L’Agnello, or The Lamb). “Becoming small to become great has been the aim of my exploration of the Book of Revelation,” she writes in her artist’s statement. “Inspired by the visionary and magnetic power of the Kyrios (the Christ, the Lamb), I chose to focus my reflection on innocence as a fundamental and revolutionary value of being, reaffirming its virtue.” She says she is compelled by how in Revelation, it is a meek and vulnerable lamb who defeats evil.

Jesus’s message to the church in Sardis, a wealthy city in west-central Asia Minor, is so seldom (or not at all?) visualized in art history—I’m grateful to Mancini for drawing attention to this passage through her thoughtful work! Jesus tells the church to “wake up,” to “remember . . . what you received and heard; obey it and repent,” following the example of the few there “who have not soiled their clothes.” Those people, he says, “will walk with me, dressed in white, for they are worthy.” He admonishes the Sardis Christians to be watchful and to strengthen and perfect their good works so that they might conquer evil and their names be preserved in the book of life.

Mancini pictures the faithful remnant at Sardis praying, keeping watch, persevering in purity, and gamboling about in the life of the Spirit.

Mancini, Gloria_In Praise of Innocence
Gloria Mancini (Italian, 1992–), photograph from the Elogio all’Innocenza series, 2023

Mancini, Gloria_In Praise of Innocence
Gloria Mancini (Italian, 1992–), photograph from the Elogio all’Innocenza series, 2023

The Woman Clothed with the Sun from Revelation 12, on the other hand, is widely represented in art, and since the twelfth century has been associated with the Virgin Mary, because the woman gives birth to a son who is pursued by the Dragon. In church tradition Mary is also likened to the burning bush in Exodus, because she bore the fire of divinity—God in Christ—within her but was not consumed. Mancini plays on both associations, showing Mary cautiously holding a flame, bringing it closer to her breast: she accepts the Incarnation and is set alight.

Mancini, Gloria_In Praise of Innocence
Gloria Mancini (Italian, 1992–), photograph from the Elogio all’Innocenza series, 2023

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ART SPOTLIGHT: “Yellow Silence: Miniature from the Silos Apocalypse (ca. 1100),” Public Domain Review: One of the most dramatic pauses in scripture comes about a third of the way through the book of Revelation. John has just described the nations’ loud and jubilant praises around the throne of God, and then he opens the next chapter, “When the Lamb broke the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour” (Rev. 8:1). This is the calm before the next storm of judgment breaks with the blowing of the seven trumpets, through which God purges the earth of evil.

While artists have historically relished the chance to visualize the rain of blood, fire, locusts, and such initiated by the trumpet blasts, the anonymous artist of a twelfth-century copy of an Apocalypse commentary from Spain saw fit to also visualize the sonic absence that preceded these spectacular occurrences. He did so with a rectangular swath of yellow.

Silence in Heaven (Silos Apocalypse) (detail)
Miniature from the Silos Apocalypse, northern Spain, 1091–1109. British Library, Add MS 11695, fol. 125v.

This swath calls readers to somber, speechless awe and reflection. God’s earlier word spoken to and through the prophet Zephaniah is appropriate here: “Be silent before the Sovereign LORD, for the day of the LORD is near” (Zeph. 1:7).

Click here to browse more images from the Silos Apocalypse.