BOOK: Meditations of the Heartby Howard Thurman (1953): I’ve just finished reading this book, and I think it would make an excellent companion for Lent. Written by Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman, a minister, theologian, professor, and civil rights leader, it consists of 152 one- to two-page meditations that he originally wrote for use by the congregation of Fellowship Church in San Francisco, a racially integrated, interdenominational church he cofounded in 1944. Some of the entries are prayers, some anecdotes, some reflections on scripture or spiritual topics, some expressions of desire or intent. For me, the book really started picking up in the second half. In part 5, several of the meditations begin and/or end with a mantra-like saying, such as “I will keep my heart open to truth and light” or “Teach me to affirm life this day!”—something short and memorizable to keep in the pocket of your heart and turn over and over.
Here’s an example of one of the meditations:
I want to be more loving. Often there are good and sufficient reasons for exercising what seems a clean direct resentment. Again and again, I find it hard to hold in check the sharp retort, the biting comeback when it seems that someone has done violence to my self-respect and decent regard. How natural it seems to “give as good as I get,” to “take nothing lying down,” to announce to all and sundry in a thousand ways that “no one can run over me and get away with it!” All this is a part of the thicket in which my heart gets caught again and again. Deep within me, I want to be more loving—to glow with a warmth that will take the chill off the room which I share with those whose lives touch mine in the traffic of my goings and comings. I want to be more loving!
I want to be more loving in my heart! It is often easy to have the idea in mind, the plan to be more loving. To see it with my mind and give assent to the thought of being loving—this is crystal clear. But I want to be more loving in my heart! I must feel like loving; I must ease the tension in my heart that ejects the sharp barb, the stinging word. I want to be more loving in my heart that, with unconscious awareness and deliberate intent, I shall be a kind, a gracious human being. Thus, those who walk the way with me may find it easier to love, to be gracious because of the Love of God which is increasingly expressed in my living.
Included in the volume are prayers for a gracious spirit in dealing with injustice, for placing our “little lives” and “big problems” on God’s altar, for laying ourselves bare to God’s scrutiny, for “when life grows dingy,” for the kindling of God’s light within us, “to be more holy in my words,” to learn humility from the earth, and for an enlarged heart that makes room for Peace.
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DOCUMENTARY: Unspoken, dir. Christopher Lamark (2022): This feature-length film takes an in-depth look at early African Christianity and its enduring heritage in African diaspora communities in America, dispelling the notion that Christianity is exclusively a white man’s religion. Director Christopher Lamark and his team interview historians, religious scholars, and cultural influencers, including Dr. Vince Bantu, Rev. Dr. Esau McCaulley, Rev. Dr. Charlie Dates, Lecrae Moore, and Sho Baraka, who reveal that Africans accepted Christianity of their own agency long before colonization or the slave trade, not just in the North but in sub-Saharan Africa as well. Bantu even points out that the Reformation was well underway in Africa a hundred years before Martin Luther, as the Ethiopian Christian monk Estifanos led a movement to bring the church’s practices more in line with scripture and to challenge abuses.
The false narrative that the Black church was born from those who drank the Kool-Aid served to them by their white oppressors has done a lot of damage, imposing shame and deterring young Black people from the Christian faith. That’s why it’s so important to correct this misinformation, to let people know that colonialism and slavery didn’t bring Christianity; it mutated it. At a time when much of white America was corrupting the gospel, Blacks preserved it, their ancient religious heritage, for subsequent generations.
SYMPOSIUM: Embodied Faith and the Art of Edward Knippers, September 20–21, 2024, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, Charlotte, NC: Sponsored by the Leighton Ford Initiative in Theology, the Arts, and Gospel Witness, this year’s Gordon-Conwell theology and arts symposium will center on the paintings of Edward Knippers, from Arlington, Virginia. In addition to an exhibition of over two dozen of Knippers’ works, there will be talks by artists Steve Prince, Bruce Herman, and Rondall Reynoso and theologians Natalie Carnes, W. David O. Taylor, and Kelly Kapic, as well as a dance performance by Sarah Council and a drum circle led by Olaniyi Zainubu and David Drum.
Edward Knippers (American, 1946–), The Resurrection of Our Lord, 2007. Oil on panel, 8 × 12 ft.
“‘Disembodiment is not an option for the Christian.’ This statement by visual artist Edward Knippers is a guiding principle in his work, which features the human body, often in connection with biblical scenes. Disembodiment is not an option for those who believe that human beings are created in God’s image with beautiful bodies, that everything from sin to salvation are embodied experiences, and that God’s redemption comes through the broken and risen body of Jesus. The paintings of Edward Knippers invite us to consider the goodness, brokenness, mystery, and glory of Christ’s body as well our own, urging us to grapple with the temptation to avoid, sexualize, downplay, or disparage bodies along with a fully embodied faith.”
I signed up! The early-bird discount is $20 off and ends March 1.
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SONGS:
>> “Give Me a Clean Heart” by Margaret Douroux, sung by Everett Harris and friends: Written in 1970 by Dr. Margaret Pleasant Douroux, this song of penitence based on Psalm 51:10 is a gospel classic. In the 2020 video below, it’s sung a cappella by a six-person virtual choir, using an arrangement by Adoration ’N Prayze. To hear it sung in a Black church context, led by Rev. Dr. E. Dewey Smith Jr., click here.
>> “Psalm 50” (Psalm 51) in Aramaic by Seraphim Bit-Kharibi: Father Seraphim Bit-Kharibi is an Assyrian Orthodox monk who is the archimandrite (head) of the Monastery of the Thirteen Holy Assyrian Fathers in Dzwell Kanda, Georgia. He is Assyrian by ethnicity, and his native language is Aramaic, the language of Jesus. Here he chants Psalm 51 (Psalm 50 in the Greek numbering system) in Aramaic with his church choir, which appears on his 2018 album Chanting in the Language of Christ. In the following video, the singing starts fifty-one seconds in.
My people, Assyrians, . . . still pay with their lives for their worship of Christ. In Eastern countries such as Iraq, Iran, Syria, and other warzones, Assyrians get attacked in their churches and beheaded if they refuse to convert to Islam. They are being destroyed en masse.
As for Assyrians in Georgia, there are about 4,000 of them. The Assyrian language is basically Neo-Aramaic, which is about 2,500 years old. The wonderful thing is that this language allows us insight into what people living centuries ago sounded like. Out of 4,000 Assyrians living in Georgia, 2,000 of them live in my village of Kanda and comprise 95 percent of its population. Almost 90 percent of these people speak Neo-Aramaic.
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ART COMMENTARIES: Lent Stations: Vices and Virtues: To promote art-driven contemplation around Lenten themes, this Lent the Visual Commentary on Scripture is spotlighting fourteen artworks from its archives based on the seven deadly sins and seven virtues. So far they’ve featured a pair of medieval statues personifying the Synagogue and the Church, a diamond-encrusted skull by Damien Hirst, a Rubens painting of Cain murdering Abel, and an Egyptian textile roundel depicting scenes from the life of Joseph.
Damien Hirst (British, 1965–), For the Love of God, 2007. Platinum, diamonds, and human teeth, 17.1 × 12.7 × 19 cm.
All photos in this post, except for the last one (of the processional icon), are my own.
(Note: WordPress seems to have disabled the feature that allows you to expand an image upon clicking, but if you’re reading on a computer, you can right-click an image and open it in a new tab to view it in full resolution; if you’re reading on a phone, you can pinch to zoom.)
Located in the Horn of Africa and with access to the Red Sea, Nile River, Mediterranean Sea, and Indian Ocean, Ethiopia stands at the nexus of historical travel, trade, and pilgrimage routes that brought it into contact with surrounding cultures and influenced its artistic development. Coptic Egypt, Nubia, South Arabia, Byzantium, Armenia, Italy, India, and the greater African continent were among those influencers. But Ethiopia not only absorbed influences; it transmitted them too.
A major art exhibition is centering Ethiopia’s artistic traditions in a global context. For Ethiopia at the Crossroads at the Walters Art Museum in Baltimore (running through March 3), curator Christine Sciacca has brought together more than 220 objects from the Walters’ own extraordinary Ethiopian art collection and private and institutional lenders both domestic and international. Icons, wall paintings, processional crosses and hand crosses, illuminated Gospel books and psalters, sensuls (chain manuscripts), healing scrolls, and more are on display throughout the galleries, whose walls have been painted bright green, yellow, and red—the colors of the Ethiopian flag. To round off the exhibition, guest curator Tsedaye Makonnen, an Ethiopian American multidisciplinary artist, was tasked with curating a few works from contemporary artists of the Ethiopian diaspora.
The majority of objects are Christian, made for liturgical or private devotional use. Ethiopia is one of the world’s oldest Christian nations: in the early fourth century, persuaded by a missionary from Syria, King Ezana of Aksum embraced Christianity, and it has been the dominant religion of Ethiopia ever since. But the exhibition does also include some Islamic and Jewish objects.
One of the first works you’ll encounter is a mural that would have originally been mounted on the outer wall of an Ethiopian Orthodox church sanctuary (mäqdäs), portraying the Nativity, the Presentation of Christ in the Temple, and the Adoration of the Magi.
Nativity, Presentation of Christ in the Temple, and Adoration of the Magi, Ethiopia, 18th century. Glue tempera on overlapping canvas pieces mounted to a new stretched canvas, 49 3/16 × 66 15/16 in. (124.9 × 170 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. [object record]
Remarkably, at the Nativity, there is a feast taking place, and Jesus is feeding his mother with what looks like a Communion wafer! As the theologian Lester Ruth has said, “The sound from most baby beds is a cry to be fed. But the cry from the manger is an offer to feed on his body born into this world.”
One of history’s most famous Ethiopian painters is Fre Seyon, who worked at the court of Emperor Zara Yaqob (r. 1434–1468) and was of the first generation of Ethiopian artists who painted icons on wood panels. He was also a monk. He likely introduced one of the characteristic features of Ethiopian icons of the Virgin and Child: the archangels Michael and Gabriel flanking them with drawn swords, acting as a kind of honor guard.
Fre Seyon (Ethiopian, active 1445–1480), Triptych Icon with the Virgin Mary and Christ Child Flanked by Archangels and Saints (center), Twelve Apostles and Saints (left), and Prophets and Saints (right), mid- to late 15th century. Tempera on gesso-primed wood. Institute of Ethiopian Studies, Addis Ababa University, acc. no. IESMus4186.
My two favorite details of this triptych by Fre Seyon are (on the right wing) the image of the Ancient of Days surrounded by the tetramorph, his wild gray locks being blown about, and in the center, the bird that Christ holds, its feet grasping at a three-branched twig. On a literal level, the bird is a plaything for the boy that charmingly emphasizes his humanity (in the late Middle Ages, at least in Europe—I’m not sure about in Ethiopia—it was common for young children to keep tame birds as pets). On another level, the bird may be symbolic. In traditional Western art, Jesus sometimes holds a goldfinch, a bird with distinctive red markings that’s fond of eating thistle seeds and gathering thistle down and thus came to be read as a prefiguration of Christ’s thorny, blood-spilt passion. I’m not sure whether Fre Seyon intended a symbolic significance for this bird.
Here’s another triptych from the exhibition, this one from a century and a half later:
Triptych Icon with the Virgin Mary and Christ Child Flanked by Archangels, Scenes from the Life of Christ, Saint George, and Saints Honorius, Täklä Haymanot, and Ewostatewos, Ethiopia (Tigray), early 17th century. Glue tempera on panel, 16 3/4 × 22 5/16 in. (42.5 × 56.7 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. [object record]
The composition of the Virgin and Child is based on prints of a painted icon from Santa Maria Maggiore in Rome brought to Ethiopia by Portuguese Jesuit missionaries—but it innovates. As the wall text notes, “Mary’s cloak stretch[es] out in either direction to embrace the scene of Christ Teaching the Apostles below. Umbrella-like, Mary appears as both the protector and personification of the church.”
On the right wing, angels hold up chalices to collect the blood that flows from Jesus’s wounds on the cross, while below that, Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus carry Jesus’s wrapped corpse to the tomb. On the left wing is one of my favorite traditional religious scenes: the Harrowing of Hell, or Christ’s Descent into Limbo, in which, on Holy Saturday, Jesus enters the realm of his dead to take back those whom Death has held captive, first of which are our foreparents Adam and Eve. Below that scene is an image of the dragon-slaying Saint George, a late third-century figure from the Levant or Cappadocia who is the patron saint of Ethiopia.
At the bottom center is a scene of Christ teaching the twelve apostles, plus two Ethiopian saints. They all hold hand crosses, like those carried by Ethiopian priests and monks.
Hand Cross with Figure, Ethiopia, probably 18th–19th century. Wood, 13 3/8 × 4 3/16 × 9/16 in. (34 x 10.7 × 1.4 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. [object record]Coptic-Arabic Book of Prayer, Egypt, 18th century. Tempera and ink on parchment, 11 3/4 × 9 in. (29.8 × 22.8 cm). Melikian Collection. [object record]
One of the hallmarks of the exhibition is its multisensory nature: attendees are immersed not only in the sights of Ethiopia but also in the sounds and smells. Scratch-and-sniff cards invite people to take a whiff of frankincense, which would have filled the censer on display. Or to smell berbere, a hot spice blend that would have been stored in the woven baskets nearby.
This olfactory element was produced by the Institute for Digital Archaeology, which, as part of its efforts to record and preserve ephemeral culture, has launched an ambitious program to preserve the heritage of smells. “The aim is to provide the technical means for documenting the aromas of today for the benefit of future generations – and to find new methods and opportunities for experiencing the odors of the past.”
Also in the exhibition there are screens where you can watch videos of Ethiopian Orthodox worship, including music and liturgies, where you will see some of the objects in use. You can also listen to interviews with members of the local Ethiopian diaspora community. (The Washington metropolitan area has the largest Ethiopian population outside Ethiopia.)
Further contextualizing the objects and enhancing the sense of place, pasted onto the wall is a blow-up photograph of a Christian holy-day celebration wending through the streets. This serves as a backdrop to two physical artifacts present in the room: a qämis (dress) and a debab (umbrella).
The inscriptions on many of the Ethiopian icons and manuscript illuminations, which identify the figures and scenes, are in Ge‘ez (aka classical Ethiopic), an ancient South Semitic language that originated over two thousand years ago in what is now northern Ethiopia and Eritrea. It’s no longer spoken in daily life, but it is still used as the language of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church and taught to boys in Sunday school. I really wish I could read it, as it would be a great help in interpreting the Ethiopian images I come across in my studies!
Contrary to what some may assume, Ethiopians in the medieval era were not an isolated people. They traveled—to Rome, to Jerusalem, and so forth. Evidence of Holy Land pilgrimage is suggested by an early fourteenth-century Gospel book that includes the domed Church of the Holy Sepulcher as the backdrop for Christ’s resurrection:
Gospel Book with the Crucifixion and Christ’s Resurrection, Ethiopia (Tigray), early 14th century. Ink and paint on parchment, 10 1/2 × 6 11/16 in. (26.7 × 17 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore, W.8.36, fols. 6v–7r. [object record]
This is an extraordinary book, one of the oldest surviving Ethiopian manuscripts and the oldest in North America. Ethiopian artists weren’t yet depicting Jesus on the cross, so to represent the Crucifixion, this artist has painted a living lamb surmounting a bejeweled cross, with the two thieves crucified on either side.
Also from the fourteenth century, a manuscript opened to a page spread of Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem:
Christ’s Entry into Jerusalem, folios added from an earlier Gospel book to a Ta’ammera Maryam manuscript, Ethiopia, 14th century. Tempera and ink on parchment. Private collection.
I like how the scene extends across both pages, creating a sense of forward progression, and the two onlookers above the city gate.
One of my favorite objects from the exhibition is a sensul from Gondar depicting ten scenes from the life of Mary. A sensul is an Ethiopian chain manuscript, in this case pocket-size, created out of a single folded strip of parchment attached to heavy hide boards at each end, which creates a small book when folded shut. Here’s a detail showing the Annunciation:
Annunciation, from a Gondarine sensul (chained manuscript), Ethiopia (Gondar), late 17th century. Ink and paint on parchment, each panel 3 5/8 × 3 1/8 in. (9.2 × 9 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. [object record] [GIF]
It’s a common misconception that Ethiopians have always depicted biblical figures as dark-skinned to reflect the local population. Such treatment didn’t become normative until the eighteenth century, although some earlier artists did choose black complexions for holy persons:
Virgin and Child, from a Psalter with the Wəddase Maryam (Praise of Mary) and Mähalǝyä Näbiyyat (Canticles of the Prophets), Ethiopia, 15th century. Ink and pigments on parchment with wooden boards, open: 8 7/8 × 6 11/16 × 3 15/16 in. (22.5 × 17 × 10 cm). Toledo Museum of Art, Ohio. [object record]The Opening of the Gospel of John, from a Gospel book, Ethiopia, ca. 1504–5. Tempera on parchment, 13 9/16 × 10 7/16 in. (34.5 × 26.5 cm). J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles, Ms. 102, fols. 215v–216r. [object record]Triptych Icon with the Virgin Mary and Christ Child Flanked by Archangels (center), the Kwer‘atä re’esu (Man of Sorrows) and Saint George (left), and Saint Gäbrä Mänfäs Qeddus and Abba Arsanyos (right), Ethiopia (Gondar), late 17th–early 18th century. Tempera on gesso-primed wood. Institute of Ethiopian Studies, Addis Ababa University, acc. no. IESMus3492.
In the triptych shown above, not only is the infant Jesus depicted as Black, but he also wears a necklace made of cowrie shells, which are traditionally given to Ethiopian children for protection!
My favorite artwork from the exhibition is probably this triptych:
Triptych Icon with the Crucifixion (center), Entombment and Guards at the Tomb (left), and Temptation in the Wilderness and the Resurrection of Christ (right), Ethiopia, late 16th century. Tempera on gesso-primed wood. Institute of Ethiopian Studies, Addis Ababa University, acc. no. IESMus4126.
Its central panel depicts the Crucifixion, Christ’s head bowed in death and his fingers gesturing blessing, even as his palms are nailed. At the top, the sun and the moon mourn his passing. As we saw before, angels catch the blood that drips from his body (notice the cute little hand sticking out from behind his torso!). At the base, the two larger-scale figures are the Virgin Mary and St. John, while next to Mary on a smaller scale is Longinus, the centurion who pierces Christ’s side with a spear.
The left wing shows the Entombment of Christ, with two guards, wearing pointed turbans, sleeping at their post. The right wing shows a scene that the label identifies as “Temptation in the Wilderness” (presumably a translation of the inscription on the tree) but that looks to me more like an Agony in the Garden. Below that is the Resurrection, with Christ holding a victory banner, standing atop Hades. An angel blows a shofar and the dead rise up out of their graves, following Christ, the firstfruits of the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:20–22). Christ wears a short-sleeved, knee-length jacket with frog closures, and bunched sleeves and trousers, both of which reflect clothing from regions east of Africa.
The wall text notes the fine, wavy lines used to render the figures’ draperies, perhaps influenced by Armenian artists from the Lake Van region.
Yovsian of Vaspurakan (Armenian), Leaf from a Gospel book with the Resurrection of Christ and Visit of the Women to the Tomb of Christ, ca. 1350. Tempera on cotton paper. Private collection.
Here’s another Crucifixion, this one painted in what’s called the Second Gondarine style, characterized by smoothly modeled figures, often with darker skin tones, and wide horizontal bands of red, yellow, and green filling the background:
Diptych Icon with the Crucifixion (left) and the Mocking of Christ (right), Ethiopia, late 17th–early 18th century. Wood, polychrome, 13 1/2 × 9 7/8 in. (34.3 × 25.1 cm). Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond. [object record]
The squiggles behind Christ at the top left may simply be a decorative motif, but to me they look like falling stars, an apocalyptic sign, and as if the sky is weeping.
The right panel of the diptych shows Christ being cruelly fitted with a crown of thorns.
Two other passion images I want to share are a Last Supper wall painting and an Entombment from a disbound album.
Last Supper, Ethiopia, 18th century. Tempera on linen, mounted on panel, 16 3/4 × 24 in. (42.6 × 61 cm). Virginia Museum of Fine Arts, Richmond. [object record]Album Leaf with the Entombment of Christ, Ethiopia (Sawa?), late 17th century. Pigments on vellum. Minneapolis Institute of Art, 2009.39.3y. [object record]
In the Last Supper, Jesus and Judas both dip their bread (injera!) into the same bowl and exchange a knowing glance.
In the Entombment, Jesus, wrapped in white linen, is lowered into the ground, mourned by several of his women followers. The portrayal of his mother Mary’s weeping, her hands covering her eyes and her face stained with tears, is particularly poignant. This leaf is from a set of forty-four, now matted separately but originally arranged in series and likely painted on several long sheets of parchment that were sewn together and folded accordion-style to form a sensul.
One of the most extraordinary objects on display is a rare folding processional icon that adopts the form of a fan, from the late fifteenth century:
Folding Processional Icon in the Shape of a Fan, Ethiopia, late 15th century (Stephanite). Ink and paint on parchment, thread, extended: 24 1/4 × 154 1/8 × 4 3/4 in. (61.6 × 391.4 × 12 cm). Walters Art Museum, Baltimore. Photo courtesy of the museum. [object record]
Thirty-eight identically sized figures span the surface of this elongated parchment: the early Christian martyrs Julitta (Juliet) and Cyricus, St. George, St. John the Baptist, the archangel Michael, the Virgin Mary, the archangel Raphael, St. Paul, the Ethiopian artist-priest Afnin, and unidentified Old Testament patriarchs and prophets. There would have been a wooden handle attached to either end that, when pulled together, created a double handle for a giant wheel to be displayed during liturgical processions and church services (see here). As the museum website notes, “The Virgin Mary, whose hands are raised in a gesture of prayer, is then at the top of the wheel. By depicting Mary in the company of saints and angels, the icon powerfully evokes the celestial community of the church.”
This is just a sampling of all the wonderful art objects that are a part of the Ethiopia at the Crossroadsexhibition. I’ll share more photos on Instagram (@art_and_theology) in the coming weeks.
I strongly encourage you to go see this! I think it would be enjoyable for children as well, especially Christian children, who will be able to identify many of the painted stories. For Christians, it’s an opportunity to connect with our artistic heritage and with African church history. If you can’t catch the exhibition at the Walters in Baltimore before it closes March 3, it will be traveling to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts (April 13–July 7, 2024), and the Toledo Museum of Art in Ohio (August 17–November 10, 2024).
In this piece, lettering artist and calligrapher Cheryl Dyer of Omaha takes Psalm 90 (traditionally read on Ash Wednesday) as her subject, embellishing excerpts with watercolor and other media. Rattlesnake master is a perennial herb of the parsley family native to the tallgrass prairies of central and eastern North America.
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ARTICLE: “The Vindication and Blessing of Lent” by Rev. Dr. Michael Farley, Modern Reformation: I also sometimes receive pushback from others in my Reformed Christian circles for my observance of Lent. I appreciate Farley’s response to such concerns, explaining why he finds Lent—and the liturgical calendar as a whole—biblically, theologically, and practically compelling.
Note: If you’d like a new devotional booklet to work through this Lent that is broadly Reformed and that combines scripture readings, prayers, songs, art, and other elements, I recommend the Daily Prayer Project’s Living Prayer Periodical, which, full disclosure, I had a hand in producing. New for this year’s Lent edition, we’ve added a special page spread for each day of the Triduum: Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. The cover image is of a thirteenth-century Armenian khachkar from the Monastery of Gosh and is one of eight featured artworks inside (three accompanied by written reflections, three by visio divina prompts). If you want to receive a copy by the start of Lent on Wednesday, order the digital version; otherwise, expect a few business days for shipping.
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SERMON: “Seasons of the Heart: Preparing for Lent” by James K. A. Smith: Last February, Jamie Smith preached on Ecclesiastes 3:1–8 and John 16:12–15 at his home church, Sherman Street Christian Reformed Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He talks about seasonality—how we creatures experience time in seasons, both personally and collectively—and encourages us to ask, “When am I?” Along the way he references Gustavo Gutiérrez, Rita Felski, and Bruce Springsteen. Below is a transcription of 23:42 onward, which I find so resonant. To receive the full force of this conclusion, listen to the whole sermon.
God has more to say to us in his word that we haven’t yet got. There is something in us, for us, in the word that we hear over and over and over again, and the way that we will get to the place of receiving it is precisely by giving ourselves over to the seasons in our lives and letting God do the work in us so that we get new ears, because we have new hearts. This is one of the reasons why . . . repetition is at the heart of the spiritual life. It’s exactly why we keep repeating the liturgical seasons over and over again. Why? Because every single one of us is a different person every time Advent arrives. Every single one of us has undergone something every single time Lent rolls around again.
And so as we’re preparing for Lent—this season of repentance, this season of encountering our mortality—again, I want to encourage us to ask: When am I? When are we? What am I going through? What season am I in? And then from that place, come to Lent with expectation. What does God want to say to me in the now that I find myself? What are you newly ready for because of what you’ve come through? What can Jesus say to you this year that he couldn’t tell you last year?
So many of you are mourning. And the journey of Lent is really a journey of yearning for resurrection. But it passes through the valley of the shadow of death. Unapologetically. And the psalmists’ cries that you’re going to hear in Lent, maybe this year they’re going to give voice to a cry of your own that you didn’t have before. The experience of being bereft on Holy Saturday is going to hit some of you in a way it never has before this year. But maybe that also means that Easter dawns for you in a way it never has before.
Friends, maybe some of you feel, to go back to Ecclesiastes, that it’s a time to build and plant. Because you’ve come through the season of tearing down and uprooting. Maybe this Lent you feel like you’re finally in a place where you can be vulnerable to a God that you finally learned is compassionate, who loves you all the way down. This is a season to build, to plant.
Friends, maybe some of you feel like it’s the time of giving up and throwing away. There is a time for everything, the Teacher tells us. There’s a time to give up, there’s a time to throw away. But maybe it’s precisely what you need to let go of that has been blocking your ability to experience God’s incessant, steadfast, always love.
Whenever you are, whatever season you find yourself in, God has good news to share with you. That’s what we can rely on. No matter what season you’re in, the God who is eternal—the same yesterday, today, and forever—has always a word of good news, because he is always the God with us. He is always Emmanuel. And so this Lent and Eastertide, maybe this is the year you finally get God’s song. You finally hear the song of new life. And friends, I hope you hear that God is singing to you.
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VESPERS SERVICES AT CALVIN UNIVERSITY:
I’ve just returned from another inspiring Calvin Symposium on Worship, so grateful for all the gifts and wisdom that were shared. There’s much I could say, but one thing I discovered was how much I loved participating in Vespers, a short evening worship service consisting of scripture readings, prayers, and song (vesper in Latin simply means “evening”). It’s not something that’s regularly offered in my (Presbyterian) tradition, at least not near me. Here are three of the Vespers services that took place this week at Calvin, the latter two at which I was present:
>> Celtic Vespers: “Psalms of Healing and Hope for a Troubled World,” led by Kiran Young Wimberly and The McGraths: This service of psalms set to Celtic melodies was led by Kiran Young Wimberly and The McGraths (a Northern Ireland–based group that performs and records together), Mary Beth Mardis-LeCroy (violin), and Brian Hehn (piano). Since Ash Wednesday is this coming week, I’ll draw your attention especially to “From Dust We Came (Psalm 90)” (see timestamp 15:28), which uses the eighteenth-century Irish tune CASADH AN T’SÚGÁIN. Plus, another highlight for me: “Love and Mercy (Psalm 85),” set to the eighteenth-century Scottish tune LOVELY MOLLY (39:55)—I’ve added this to my Advent Playlist! For more info about the musicians and their work, see https://www.celticpsalms.com/.
>> Jazz Vespers: “Lament as Worship,” led by Ruth Naomi Floyd and her jazz quartet: Ruth Naomi Floyd is a phenomenal jazz vocalist, composer, and fine-art photographer. This liturgy that she crafted and presented is so moving. In her thoughtful selection of readings, Floyd brings a James Baldwin poem into conversation with Psalm 42:7–11 and even includes an amusing proverb from Chinua Achebe’s novel Arrow of God. She also adds a visual element: black-and-white photographic portraits she shot, which were displayed on slides during each segment (not all of them are featured in the video recording).
The musical performance, I hardly have words for. All I can say is, it was utterly engrossing. The expressiveness of Floyd’s voice is unmatched, carrying such pathos. I couldn’t pick a favorite song, but the opening spiritual, “Trouble So Hard” (11:37), hit me forcefully. The first verse talks about a mountaintop experience of spiritual ecstasy (“getting happy” refers to being filled with the Spirit), and that’s contrasted in the second verse with a descent into the valley of deep suffering and grief. The refrain asserts to God, seeking divine consolation, “Oh Lord, trouble so hard,” and then testifies that only God truly knows our troubles. Also take note of the concluding song, “Press On” (34:31), an original Floyd composition whose text is taken from the writings of Frederick Douglass, part of a larger body of work that has been recorded and will most likely be released by the end of this year, Floyd told me; see https://frederickdouglassjazzworks.com/.
The amazing instrumentalists are James Weidman (piano), Keith Loftis (saxophone), Matthew Parrish (bass), and Mark Prince (drums).
>> Choral Vespers: “Christ, Holy Vine, Christ, Living Tree,” led by David M. Cherwien and The Choral Scholars: Led by the West Michigan chamber ensemble The Choral Scholars and organist/pianist David Cherwien, this service centers on botanical imagery of Christ and his people—such a generative idea! I enjoyed singing Gerald Cartford’s responsorial setting of Psalm 141:1–4a and 8 (see timestamp 12:48); the refrain is “Let my prayer rise before you as incense; and the lifting of my hands as the evening sacrifice” (the plant connection is that incense is derived from fragrant gum resins, i.e., tree sap). Also, this was my first time hearing Elizabeth Poston’s “Jesus Christ, the Apple Tree” performed live (20:48), and the first time its words truly registered with me.
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PRAYER-POEM: “Marked by Ashes” by Walter Brueggemann: “. . . On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you—you Easter parade of newness. Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us, Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom . . .” This prayer by the Old Testament scholar and theologian Walter Brueggemann, from his book Prayers for a Privileged People (2008), is ostensibly for any ol’ Wednesday in the church year, but it could be used, with one small elision, for Ash Wednesday itself. I love how it reads Easter backward into Lent, recognizing that the fruits of Christ’s resurrection are borne all year round.
P.S. This year, Ash Wednesday falls on February 14, Valentine’s Day. It did too in 2018; read the poem by Luci Shaw that I published for that occasion.
Two major exhibitions of African art are currently running in Manhattan and Baltimore, containing many Christian objects, some of them never before seen in the US. I attended both, and they’re excellent. I want to write a full-on review for each, but because I don’t know that I’ll have time to do so before they close, I wanted to at least make you aware of them in this abbreviated form in the hopes that you’ll have a chance to go see them. I will share more photos soon.
>> Africa & Byzantium, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City, November 19, 2023–March 3, 2024: Curated by Dr. Andrea Myers Achi. “Art history has long emphasized the glories of the Byzantine Empire (circa 330–1453), but less known are the profound artistic contributions of North Africa, Egypt, Nubia, Ethiopia, and other powerful African kingdoms whose pivotal interactions with Byzantium had a lasting impact on the Mediterranean world. Bringing together a range of masterworks—from mosaic, sculpture, pottery, and metalwork to luxury objects, paintings, and religious manuscripts—this exhibition recounts Africa’s central role in international networks of trade and cultural exchange. With artworks rarely or never before seen in public, Africa & Byzantium sheds new light on the staggering artistic achievements of medieval Africa. This long-overdue exhibition highlights how the continent contributed to the development of the premodern world and offers a more complete history of the vibrant multiethnic societies of north and east Africa that shaped the artistic, economic, and cultural life of Byzantium and beyond.”
The Annunciation, from a miscellany, Egypt, Fayyum Oasis, 913–14. Ink on parchment, 10 9/16 × 13 13/16 in. (26.8 × 35.1 cm). Collection of the Morgan Library and Museum, New York. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.Diptych with Saint George and the Virgin and Child, Ethiopia, late 15th–early 16th century. Paint on wood, 20 1/2 × 26 5/16 × 1 3/16 in. (52 × 66.8 × 3 cm). Collection of the National Museum of African Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Exhibition tour:
Smarthistory video of one of the extraordinary early icons on display, borrowed from St. Catherine’s Monastery in Mount Sinai, Egypt:
>> Ethiopia at the Crossroads, Walters Art Museum, Baltimore, December 3, 2023–March 3, 2024: Curated by Dr. Christine Sciacca. “Ethiopia at the Crossroads is the first major art exhibition in America to examine an array of Ethiopian cultural and artistic traditions from their origins to the present day and to chart the ways in which engaging with surrounding cultures manifested in Ethiopian artistic practices. Featuring more than 220 objects drawn from the Walters’ world-renowned collection of Ethiopian art and augmented with loans from American, European, and Ethiopian lenders, the exhibition spans 1,750 years of Ethiopia’s proud artistic, cultural, and religious history.
“Seated in the Horn of Africa between Europe and the Middle East, Ethiopia is an intersection of diverse climates, religions, and cultures. Home to over 80 different ethnicities and religious groups, a large portion of the historic artistic production in Ethiopia supported one of the three Abrahamic faiths (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam), all of which have early roots in Ethiopia. As one of the oldest Christian kingdoms, Ethiopian artists produced icons, wall paintings, crosses of various scales, and illuminated manuscripts to support this religious tradition and its liturgy. . . .”
The exhibition will travel to the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem, Massachusetts, April 13–July 7, 2024, and to the Toledo Museum of Art in Ohio August 17–November 10, 2024.
Detail of a sensul (chained manuscript), Ethiopia, 15th–early 16th century. Parchment, ink, paint, and leather. Collection of the Peabody Essex Museum, Salem, Massachusetts. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.Mänbärä Tabot Icon with Eight Panels and Painted Scenes, Ethiopia, ca. 1850. Carved wood and glue tempera. Private collection, United States. Photo: Victoria Emily Jones.
Also, as Lent starts on February 14, don’t forget about my Lent playlist! Since its original publication in 2021, I’ve added songs to the bottom.
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BLOG POST: “The True Purpose of Theology” by W. David O. Taylor: Professor Taylor shares seven things about theology that he opens his first theology class lecture with each term at Fuller. So important. I hope I reflect these on my blog.
>> Sung by Kristyn Getty and Dana Masters: Keith and Kristyn Getty, a powerhouse couple in the Christian music industry, have chosen “O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go” as their Family Hymn of the Month for February, providing some background on the writer, a free sheet music download of their arrangement, and a video performance from 2021 with guest vocalist Dana Masters. The Gettys’ large platform among evangelicals is sure to get this lesser-known hymn into many homes!
>> Sung by Westminster Chorus: Here Westminster Chorus (from Westminster, California) performs David Phelps’s a cappella arrangement of the hymn in Petrikirche in Dortmund, Germany. I previously shared a video of Phelps singing this version with three of his fellow Gaither Vocal Band members, which is itself moving, but with a thirty-four-person choir, the effect is tremendous.
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VIDEO: The Greeter’s Guild Goes to Times Square: Ryan Pemberton, director of community cultivation for Image journal, introduced me to “the moustachioed motivator of the high street,” Troy Hawke, in the January 18 installment of ImageUpdate. His videos are so delightful! Pemberton writes,
Call me quaint, but at the start of a presidential election year, what I’m most looking for in books, film, and certainly in public life is kindness. Under the circumstances, I can’t stop recommending Troy Hawke to friends. A character created by British comedian Milo McCabe, Hawke is a 1930s throwback, eloquent in speech and dapper in dress. His go-to wardrobe includes a smoking jacket worn over loose-fitting linen pants and Oxford dress shoes. As founder (and only member) of the Greeters Guild, he offers hyper-specific and articulate compliments to strangers—guests entering a Waitrose, commuters at a public transit hub, or those stopping at an EV charging station. After being invited to “try that in New York,” Hawke has been spotted offering compliments to passersby in Central Park. His intentional and attentive praise is a refreshing contrast to so much vitriol pouring its way through my screens and speakers. These public encounters call to mind Kierkegaard’s Works of Love, in which he notes that the work of love is to see and name the love already present in others, and, in so doing, to catalyze that love’s growth into its fullest expression (all while refusing to take credit—it was there the whole time). In this way, Hawke is both prophetic and timely. Fred Rogers, in an interview offered toward the end of his life (captured in the 2018 documentary Won’t You Be My Neighbor), shared that the most pressing work facing our species in this millennium is “making goodness attractive.” To that end: Thank you, Mr. Hawke; I can’t look away.
In summer 2020, artists Dustin Klein and Alex Criqui projected images of Black lament and empowerment onto the Robert E. Lee Monument at Marcus-David Peters Circle in Richmond, Virginia, part of their Reclaiming the Monument project. Read more at bottom of post.
Song of the Agitators
“Cease to agitate!” we will, When the slave whip’s sound is still; When no more on guiltless limb Fetters print their circlet grim; When no hound athirst for blood Scours the thorny Georgian wood; When no mother’s pleading prayer, On the sultry Southern air, Quivereth out in accents wild, “Master, give me back my child!” In the day when men shall be Brethren, equal-born, and free— Day for which we work and wait— We will “cease to agitate”!
When our statute books proclaim To the world no more our shame, And a freeman’s rights shall hold Dearer than the Judas gold; When the Polar Star shall give Light to the last fugitive; When our border lakes shall rise On the last lone bondman’s eyes, And their waves for him no more Haste to clasp the Northern shore; In the day when men shall be Brethren, equal-born, and free— Day for which we work and wait— We will “cease to agitate”!
Written by an anonymous abolitionist during the days of race-based chattel slavery in the United States, this poem was originally published in the Ohio Star (Ravenna, OH) in 1852 and was reprinted shortly after in the Anti-Slavery Bugle (Oct. 9, 1852) (Lisbon, OH), the Liberator (Nov. 19, 1852) (Boston), and the Voice of the Fugitive (Dec. 16, 1852) (Windsor, Ontario).
The poem addresses those who, with the status quo working in their favor, would tell the enslaved to stop complaining about the injustices being perpetuated against them, stop ruffling feathers and demanding change, and instead just sit back and be content with the way things are.
The speaker of the poem responds with a defiant no; they and their fellow activists will stop agitating only when their cause is won. When the enslaver’s whip ceases to crack the air, and shackles no longer imprint themselves on ankles and wrists. When bloodhounds are no longer unleashed on freedom seekers, and children are no longer forcibly separated from their parents. When the country’s founding documents are scrubbed of their racism, and its legislation protects the rights of all Americans in equal measure. When the North Star and the Great Lakes are no longer needed to guide people, and offer passage, out of bondage, because everyone is already home and free.
Those who work for justice today still often encounter the demand “Cease to agitate!” “Stop stirring up trouble.” “Don’t be such a downer.” “Why are you so angry?” “Why can’t you just be grateful for the progress we’ve made?” “When will you ever be satisfied?”
Struck by its contemporary relevance, Detroit-born, Vancouver-based musical artist Khari Wendell McClelland adapted the above poem and set it to music. “I sing this song for all those who are living under tyranny, escaping tyranny, and searching for peace,” he wrote in a 2015 Facebook post sharing a demo video.
McClelland’s “Song of the Agitator” appears on his 2018 album, Freedom Singer. The album is dedicated to his great-great-great-grandmother Kizzy, who fled US slavery through the Underground Railroad to Windsor, Ontario, settling in Detroit after slavery was abolished.
While the first stanza he sings almost verbatim from the nineteenth-century source material, the second stanza he reworks to highlight present-day grievances:
Now here we are today Still pushing for equal pay And these treaty rights don’t hold They’re shiny like the Judas gold The stain of blood remains A mother’s only son slain Our kids are crying out for more Continually being ignored
And here’s how he’s adapted the refrain:
On that day we will be Family, equal-born, and free Dawn will come, night will cease We’ll rejoice, mind at ease For that day we’ll work and wait That’s when we’ll cease to agitate
In a Geopoetics podcast interview that aired February 25, 2023, McClelland said, “For some of us, it’s been hundreds of years of incredible terror. And, you know, it’s a great luxury to feel in this moment like something’s wrong.” He continues, “It’s good to be agitated—to want to make things be different. When we start to become a little too comfortable with things being out of sort, being unjust, that’s where . . . it’s a problem. . . . Agitation is actually . . . good fuel.”
About the images above:
The Robert E. Lee Monument in Richmond, Virginia, was erected in 1890 during the Jim Crow era to glorify the Confederate general (who fought against the Union to preserve slavery). A bronze equestrian statue atop a giant plinth in the center of one of the historic city’s traffic circles, it had been controversial from the beginning, with many of Richmond’s Black residents regarding it as an oppressive and traumatic presence.
After the murder of George Floyd, the monument became an epicenter of Black Lives Matter protests as well as a site of vandalism, and Virginia governor Ralph Northam announced on June 4, 2020, that it would be removed. While the legality of that intent was being litigated, light projection artist and Richmonder Dustin Klein, later joined by collaborator Alex Criqui, cast nightly image projections onto the statue—first of Black victims of police violence, and then of Black activists, writers, theologians, artists, and politicians and associated quotes. In October 2020, the graffiti-covered, image-lit Robert E. Lee Monument was declared the most influential American protest artwork since World War II by the New York Times.
On September 2, 2021, the Virginia Supreme Court upheld Northam’s decision, and the statue was removed shortly after.
To view more photos and learn more about Klein and Criqui’s Reclaiming the Monument project, see www.reclaimingthemonument.com.
Calvin University’s January Series is an annual fifteen-day series of lectures and conversations that “aims to cultivate deep thought and conversations about important issues of the day, to inspire cultural renewal and make us better global citizens in God’s world.” It brings in various scholars on various topics, but the two lectures I want to call out in particular are both about food!
>> “Table Conversations: Building Community as We Eat” by Kendall Vanderslice: “Kendall Vanderslice is a baker, writer, and the founder of the Edible Theology Project, an educational nonprofit connecting the Communion table to the kitchen table. She earned her master’s of theological studies from Duke Divinity School and master’s in gastronomy from Boston University. . . . Through her work in food studies and theology, Vanderslice explores the ways God uses the table to restore communities and creation. In her most recent book, By Bread Alone: A Baker’s Reflection on Hunger, Longing, and the Goodness of God, she discusses her faith journey, shares recipes, and dives into the role of bread in church history.” Introduction starts at 11:45; Q&A, at 50:33.
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CALLS FOR PAPERS:
>> For inclusion in the forthcoming book My Impossible Soul: The Metamodern Music of Sufjan Stevens: Dr. Tom Drayton and Greg Dember are compiling essays for a new book on Sujan Stevens, and they’re seeking contributing writers from across academic disciplines. “My Impossible Soul will be the first academic volume dedicated to the work of multi-instrumentalist singer-songwriter Sufjan Stevens. A staple of the indie/alternative music scene since 2000, Stevens’ work transcends genres – ranging from minimalist folk to maximalist electronica. His prolific discography blends “stories of his own life with ancient mythology and religious references” (McKinney 2015), interweaving themes of grief (Minton 2023), nostalgia, queer relationships (Postelli 2016; Glow 2021), Christianity, disease, problematic families, and the apocalypse with intricately produced compositions. . . . This volume aims to provide the first international and interdisciplinary analysis of the music, lyrics, performance process and cultural impact of Sufjan Stevens, through the framework of metamodernism . . .” Proposal deadline: March 1, 2024.
>> On Religion and Film: The International Conference on Religion and Film is held every two years, gathering leading scholars in the fields of religious studies and film; 2022’s was in Amsterdam, and this year’s (June 27–28, 2024) is in Hollywood! The Brehm Center at Fuller Seminary is soliciting papers for the conference. “We invite papers exploring Hollywood films from their origins in the 1890s through the silent film era as well as the Classic Hollywood studio film era from the 1930s through the end of the Hays Code (1968). How did religion influence the creative process, production, reception, and distribution of these films? How might the intersection of religion and film in this historic era inform our conversations about religion and film today? We are especially interested in contemporary films that deal with the future and the role of religion in the future. In addition, we seek papers exploring how advances in film technologies and our collective experience of film (in-theater technologies, VR, Streaming) will influence the future of filmmaking. Additionally, how might AI change storytelling and human creativity? How will those who work in Religion and Film Studies adapt/respond to these changes?” Abstracts are due by February 10, 2024.
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ONLINE COURSE: “Philosophy and Theology in Film” with Dr. Mary McCampbell, February–May 2024:Mary McCampbell [previously] is a writer and educator on film, literature, and popular culture whose Substack, The Empathetic Imagination, is one of my favorites! In December she and nine other professors lost their jobs at Lee University because the university’s humanities major has been suspended due to financial difficulties—and this despite her being tenured and having taught there for fourteen years.
So, she won’t be in a traditional classroom this spring, but the course she had prepared to teach undergraduates she is adapting for online and opening up to the public! It costs just $20 (a four-month paid subscription to The Empathetic Imagination), which is a real steal. Beginning near the end of February and running through May, the course will include:
An introductory video for each of ten films, including a lesson on the main philosophical influences and parallels (including intro lectures on Marx, Nietzsche, Freud, Sartre, Descartes, and more)
A live Zoom discussion of each film
A written Substack post of McCampbell’s analysis of each film, hopefully followed by a lively discussion in the comments section
I’ll be participating!
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UPCOMING (ONLINE) LECTURE:“Reading alongside the Virgin Mary in Late Medieval Books of Hours Annunciation Scenes” by Laura Saetveit Miles, February 1, 2024: Professor Laura Saetveit Miles’s book The Virgin Mary’s Book at the Annunciation(Boydell & Brewer, 2020) has been one of my favorite reads of the last several years—so I was delighted to see she’ll be giving a free online talk on the topic next week! Organized by the Centre for Marian Studies at St Mary’s University in Twickenham, Miles’s lecture “will focus on two rare and fascinating versions of the standard Annunciation scene, as they are developed in both devotional literature and illuminations in Books of Hours. One type of representation captures the moment before Gabriel arrives; the other type depicts the reader herself as part of the scene. Some versions even combine these two. Where do these variations come from, and what do they mean? This neglected story of imitatio Mariae sheds new light on what Mary’s role in the Incarnation meant for medieval Christians across Europe.” (Update, 2/2: Here’s the recording.)
>> Calvin Symposium on Worship, February 7–9, 2024, Calvin University, Grand Rapids, MI: I’ve promoted this event in years past—see, e.g., here and here—and am excited to be attending again this year! I’ll be coleading a breakout session with Joel Littlepage and Ashley Williams about our work at the Daily Prayer Project, curating textual, visual, and musical resources from across time and place to encourage a life of prayer that reflects the church’s beautiful diversity. There are plenty of other sessions being offered as well; a few that stand out to me are “Blues: The Art of Lament” with Ruth Naomi Floyd (she’s also leading a Jazz Vespers service), “Music, Architecture, and the Arts: Early Christian Worship Practices” with Vince Bantu [previously], and “The First Nations Version New Testament and Its Impact on Worship” with Terry Wildman. This is in addition to what is probably my favorite part: the multiple worship services, led by liturgists, preachers, and musicians from different denominations and cultural backgrounds. I love my local church community, but I also love worshipping with folks from outside it—a reminder that the church is far broader than what I’m used to on a weekly basis.
>> “Poetry and Theology: 1800–Present,” February 22–24, 2024, Duke University, Durham, NC: Supported in part by Duke Initiatives in Theology and the Arts, next month Duke is hosting a poetry symposium that’s free and open to the public! The speakers are Lisa Russ Spaar, Judith Wolfe, Toby Martinez de las Rivas, Thomas Pfau, Kevin Hart, Anne M. Carpenter, Ian Cooper, Anthony Domestico, Luke Fischer, Dante Micheaux, Łukasz Tischner, and Bernadette Waterman Ward. Papers are on the poetry of Hopkins, Eliot, Rilke, Miłosz, and more.
>> The Breath and the Clay, March 22–24, 2024, Awake Church, Winston-Salem, NC: Organized by Stephen Roach and friends, this annual creative arts gathering aims to foster community and connection around the pursuit of truth, beauty, and goodness, providing opportunities for immersive encounters and kindling for the imagination. There will be main-room sessions, workshops, a juried art exhibition (entry deadline: February 16), a poetry slam and songwriters’ round, a panel discussion on reconciling artists and the church, concerts, a dance performance, a short film screening, and more. Musical artists include Victory Boyd, John Mark McMillan, Young Oceans, and Lowland Hum, and among the keynote speakers are Rachel Marie Kang, Mary McCampbell, Junius Johnson, Vesper Stamper, and Justin McRoberts. I appreciate the bringing together of various artistic disciplines and the emphasis on practice. For tickets, there are both virtual ($99) and in-person ($299) options.
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NEW SONG: “MLK Blessing” by the Porter’s Gate: Written by Paul Zach and IAMSON (Orlando Palmer) and just released for Martin Luther King Jr. Day, this song is based on a benediction that MLK prayed, a variant of the ancient Jewish benediction known as the Birkat Kohahim or Aaronic blessing (Num. 6:24–26). It’s sung by Liz Vice and Paul Zach.
PAST LECTURE:“Rupture as Invitation: Generosity and Contemporary Art” by Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt: I’ve mentioned Elissa several times on the blog—I find her work so illuminating—and was grateful to have her in town last fall to deliver a lecture for the Eliot Society. “Contemporary art can often be unexpected or downright unsettling in its form and subject matter. But what if we reframed our discomfort as an invitation to enter rather than an unbridgeable divide? In this lecture from November 11, 2023, Dr. Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt demonstrates how approaching contemporary art with humility, love, and courage can be a powerful means of growing in love for our neighbors.”
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UPCOMING EVENT: “Why Should Christians Care About Abstract Art?” with Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt and Jonathan Anderson, February 22, 2024, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary–Charlotte, NC: Hosted by the Leighton Ford Initiative for Art, Theology, and Gospel Witness, this evening will consist of an opening of the exhibition Alfred Manessier: Composer in Colors (on display through April 30) and dessert reception, lectures by Elissa Yukiko Weichbrodt and Jonathan Anderson, and a Q&A. “For some people of faith, abstract art is difficult to engage because the meaning remains unclear, and the form can appear chaotic or uncompelling. For others, abstract art is an invitation to engage the whole person, contemplate spiritual realities, and encounter God in transformative ways. If abstract art can facilitate the latter, then Christians have a unique opportunity to learn and care about abstract art for theological, practical, missional, and relational reasons. This event is a unique opportunity to experience abstract art, learn about abstract art, and have formative interaction with one another on this topic.” The cost is just $10, and there is an online option.
Alfred Manessier (French, 1911–1993), La montée au Calvaire (Mount Calvary), from the Suite de Pâques (Easter Series), 1978. Chromolithograph on Arches paper, 22 × 29 9/10 in. (56 × 76 cm). Edition of 99.
Sir Henry Raeburn (Scottish, 1756–1823), Reverend Robert Walker Skating on Duddingston Loch, aka The Skating Minister, ca. 1795. Oil on canvas, 76.2 × 63.5 cm. National Galleries of Scotland, Edinburgh. Robert Walker (1755–1808) was senior minister at the Canongate Kirk, a prominent abolitionist, and a member of the Edinburgh Skating Society.
Portrait in oil, Sir Henry Raeburn, c. 1795
I’d like to think it’s late Saturday afternoon, sky on fire, sermon finished, and he’s happy to be skating alone, the village children gathered in for early supper and bed. Then again, this might be a method of composing just shy of dancing’s pleasure.
Dressed in black skates with red laces, black leggings and coat, wide-brimmed black top hat tipped back from flushed cheeks and pointed nose, he cuts a fine figure against the green ice, one leg swept up behind him, arms folded across his chest.
Drawn, it seems, by his steady gaze, does he lean toward thoughts of the heaven he hopes for, or the house ahead and his supper? He’ll stay out there as long as he can.
This poem is from Grip, Give and Sway by Kathleen A. Wakefield (Los Angeles: Silver Birch, 2016).
Kathleen A. Wakefield (born 1954) is the author of two books of poetry: the prize-winning Notations on the Visible World (Anhinga, 2000) and Grip, Give and Sway (Silver Birch, 2016). She was a recipient of the University of Rochester Lillian Fairchild Award and has received grants from the New York State Foundation for the Arts, the Constance Saltonstall Foundation, and Mount Holyoke College. She taught creative writing at the Eastman School of Music and the University of Rochester and has worked as a poet-in-the-schools. She is also a singer, mainly of sacred and classical music.
LOOK: Adoration of the Magi by Rogier van der Weyden
Rogier van der Weyden (Netherlandish, 1399–1464), Adoration of the Magi, ca. 1455. Painting on oak wood, 139.5 × 152.9 cm. Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany.
This remarkable painting by the early Northern Renaissance master Rogier van der Weyden shows three kings arriving from afar to worship the Christ child. All the splendor of foreign courts comes to the dilapidated stable of Jesus’s birth, which is relocated to the Low Countries of the fifteenth century. (Notice the contemporary cityscape in the background.)
The most senior king greets the child first, humbly removing his hat and crown and kneeling on the ground, his fur-lined velvet robe rubbing the dirt. He supports the child’s feet with one hand and with the other gently lifts the child’s hand to kiss. Two fellow sovereigns stand behind him, followed by their entourage and various locals.
Standing on the left, in red, is Joseph, hat and staff in hand. He looks reflectively on the visitors, taking it all in. Leaning against the stone wall behind Joseph, a rosary between his fingers, is the painting’s donor. While it’s true that sometimes the practice of painting donors into biblical scenes was done for flattery or, if a condition of the commission, out of arrogance, more often the motivation or purpose was to imaginatively place yourself into the sacred scene as a witness, making yourself present to an event that was in time and yet that also transcends time, in that its impact is ongoing. Seeing oneself as a participant in Christ’s story, a devotee alongside those who walked with him in the flesh, can aid in spiritual contemplation.
Another anachronism—or rather, a collapsing of chronos and kairos—is the crucifix hung on the central pillar of the stable! This of course alludes to the cruel death Christ would face some thirty years later.
This painting is the centerpiece of a triptych originally made for St. Mary’s Chapel in the church of St. Columba in Cologne. The wings depict the Annunciation and the Presentation of Christ in the Temple.
Rogier van der Weyden (Netherlandish, 1399–1464), Saint Columba Altarpiece, ca. 1455. Painting on oak wood, 139.5 × 152.9 cm (central), 139.5 × 72.9 cm (each wing). Alte Pinakothek, Munich, Germany.
LISTEN: “Die Könige” (The Kings) from Weihnachtslieder (Christmas Songs), Op. 8, by Peter Cornelius, 1870 | Arranged for a cappella choir by Ivor Atkins, 1957 | Performed by VOCES8, the VOCES8 Scholars, the VOCES8 Foundation Choir, and Apollo5, dir. Barnaby Smith, feat. Jonathan Pacey, 2023
Drei Könige wandern aus Morgenland; Ein Sternlein führt sie zum Jordanstrand. In Juda fragen und forschen die drei, Wo der neugeborene König sei? Sie wollen Weihrauch, Myrrhen und Gold Dem Kinde spenden zum Opfersold.
Und hell erglänzet des Sternes Schein: Zum Stalle gehen die Kön’ge ein; Das Knäblein schaun sie wonniglich, Anbetend neigen die Könige sich; Sie bringen Weihrauch, Myrrhen und Gold Zum Opfer dar dem Knäblein hold.
O Menschenkind! halte treulich Schritt! Die Kön’ge wandern, o wandre mit! Der Stern der Liebe, der Gnade Stern Erhelle dein Ziel, so du suchst den Herrn, Und fehlen Weihrauch, Myrrhen und Gold, Schenke dein Herz dem Knäblein hold!
English translation:
Three kings journey from the East; A little star leads them to Jordan’s banks. In Judaea the three of them seek and inquire Where the newborn king might be. They wish to make offerings to the child: Gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
And brightly shines the light of the star. The three kings enter the stable; They gaze in rapture at the child, Bowing low in adoration. Gold, frankincense, and myrrh They bring to the child as offering.
O child of man! Follow them faithfully. The kings are journeying; oh, journey too! Let the star of love, the star of grace, Light your way as you seek the Lord, And if you lack gold, frankincense, and myrrh, Give your heart to that sweet child.
The German composer and poet Peter Cornelius (1824–1874) was a friend of Franz Liszt’s and Richard Wagner’s. “Die Könige” (The Kings) is the third, and most popular, song in a Christmas cycle he wrote for voice and piano, the others being “Christbaum” (Christmas Tree), “Die Hirten” (The Shepherds), “Simeon,” “Christus der Kinderfreund” (Christ the Friend of Children), and “Christkind” (Christ Child). Cornelius began writing his Weihnachtslieder cycle—both text and music—in 1856, and it underwent several rounds of revision, incorporating input from others, before being published in 1870.
From VOCES8’s Live From London Christmas 2022 broadcast, the performance of “Die Könige” above features as the baritone soloist Jonathan Pacey, who sang bass for VOCES8 from 2015 to 2022. He chose this song as the encore in his final concert. Pacey’s voice is absolutely gorgeous!
This post concludes our journey through the cycle of light, Advent-Christmas-Epiphany. Thanks for walking the road with me! I encourage you to keep journeying, keep following the light, throughout the rest of the church year. May love and grace, as “Die Könige” says, light your way as you seek the Lord.
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Elena Markova (Russian, 1967–), Three Travelers, 2015. Acrylic on canvas, 10 × 10 in.
I’m not sure whether Elena Markova [previously] meant for the “three travelers” of this visionary painting to represent the wise men of Matthew’s Gospel, but that’s who they remind me of. They appear to be divining, reading signs. They are on a journey of truth discovery.
Here, three robed figures of indeterminate gender are encased in mystic light as they peer upward at one of the bodiless angels that wing around them. They stand beside a cistern that shows, reflected in the water, a lone lamb under a crescent moon. Floating nearby in a sea of embers are a nest of eggs, suggesting new birth, and a ladder, reminiscent of the one the Jewish patriarch Jacob encountered, connecting the heavenly and earthly realms (Gen. 28:10–22).
LISTEN: “Inkanyezi Nezazi” (The Star and the Wise Men) by Joseph Shabalala of Ladysmith Black Mambazo, on Inkanyezi Nezazi (1992)
There was a proclamation by the prophets of old A proclamation by such senior elders Children, why are you not listening To the report of the birth of the Lord Jesus?
There was a star Most glorious of all Followed by the wise men Coming from the east
Father, my father Gird up your loins Let’s proclaim with one voice That the King of kings Has been born
Mother, my mother Gird up your loins Put on your best clothes Let’s proclaim with one voice That the King of kings Has been born
The prophet was right It [the star] is the most glorious of all Let’s follow it That we may prosper (Repeat)
We first heard them tell us Then we saw it ourselves in the scriptures Then we believed what we read What does the Bible say? (Repeat)
Amen, hallelujah, amen
* This English translation by Lwazi Mbambi was commissioned by Art & Theology.
Ladysmith Black Mambazo [previously] is a South African male choral group that sings in Zulu in the local vocal styles of isicathamiya and mbube. The group was founded in 1960 by Joseph Shabalala, who led it until his death in 2020.
“Inkanyezi Nezazi,” the title track of one of their 1992 albums, recalls the ancient biblical prophecies of a rising light that would herald a new age (e.g., Num. 24:17; Isa. 9:2; 60:1–3). The speaker enjoins father and mother and all the village to listen to the good news of Jesus’s birth and, like the magi, to follow where the light of revelation leads.
This post is part of a daily Christmas series that goes through January 6. View all the posts here, and the accompanying Spotify playlist here. There’s also a distinct playlist for Epiphany.
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