Advent Prelude: What Happens

LOOK: Norwegian Wood by Yuri Yuan

Yuan, Yuri_Norwegian Wood
Yuri Yuan (Chinese American, 1996–), Norwegian Wood, 2020. Oil on canvas, 63 × 73 in.

This painting by New York–based artist Yuri Yuan shows a woman in a belted brown trench coat, her back to us, standing at the edge of a frozen pond. A small gust of snowy wind whips her hair and scarf. Though her face isn’t visible, she appears to be deep in thought.

Reflected on the pond’s surface is a man dressed in black. We don’t see his physical form, and his features are indistinguishable in the mirroring ice. Who is he? Does he wish to speak to the woman? Does he come with news, or an invitation, perhaps? Or simply to wait with her in silence?

There’s a mystic quality to the image that’s heightened by the incongruity between the environment and its reflection. In the upper left, the trees are barren and dusted with the white of winter, and indeed the woman is dressed for the cold. And yet in the trees’ reflection in the pond, they are in full foliage, leafy green, as if it were summer.

It’s as if two worlds are converging here in this wood. Or the woman foresees, with the eyes of her spirit, a lushness that has not yet come to pass.

Notice how the snowbanks piled up along the water’s edge could almost double as clouds, particularly in the bottom left, where the white mass meets the sky’s reflection. The heavens and the earth becoming one.

I chose this image to kick off the Advent season (which begins tomorrow) because it captures the sense of longing that the church leans into most especially during these four weeks, but also the sense of promise, the possibility, that’s just as characteristic of the season. In the eschatological reality that Israel’s prophets foresaw, the barren becomes verdant and the dead come to life. “The wilderness and the dry land shall be glad; the desert shall rejoice and blossom” (Isa. 35:1).

Strangely, Norwegian Wood is a painting of both absence and presence, distance and nearness.

If you like, imagine Yuan’s mystery man as God coming close—which is what the Incarnation is: God coming closer than close!

What invitation might God have for you this Advent? What heartache from the past year, or even further back, do you need to bear to the Healer? What hopes do you need to speak out loud?

LISTEN: “When God Comes Close” by Tara Ward of Church of the Beloved, on Adventus (2010)

We wait, we hope
We yearn, prepare
For who or how or what or where?
Maybe the changing of the tide
Maybe the turning of someone’s eye
Maybe the falling of the snow
Only heaven knows
What happens when God comes close

We wait, we hope
We yearn, prepare
For who or how or what or where?
Maybe the healing of a heart
Maybe reunion of a drift apart
Maybe a child’s coming home
Only heaven knows
What happens when God comes close

We wait, we hope
We yearn, prepare
For who or how or what or where?
Maybe the song, a place to belong
Maybe some faith, just a touch of grace
Maybe love, it’s rarely what we think of
Only heaven knows
What happens when God comes close

For another Advent song by Tara Ward, see https://artandtheology.org/2021/12/19/advent-day-22/.

This is the first post in a daily series that will extend to January 6. You are welcome to subscribe via email or RSS, but posts are optimized for viewing on a web browser. (And note that Gmail sends WordPress posts to your Social tab, unless you create a filter to tell it otherwise.) Links will be shared on Facebook and Twitter.

Advent, Day 22

He shall feed his flock like a shepherd: he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.

—Isaiah 40:11 (KJV) (cf. Micah 5:2–5a, today’s lectionary reading)

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

—Matthew 11:28–30 (KJV)

LOOK: Good Shepherd mosaic, Ravenna

Good Shepherd (Ravenna)
Christ the Good Shepherd, 5th century. Mosaic from the tomb of Galla Placidia, Ravenna, Italy. Photo: Fr. Lawrence Lew, OP.

[Related post: “Love, My Shepherd” (Artful Devotion)]

LISTEN: “He Shall Feed His Flock” | Text: Isaiah 40:11; Matthew 11:28–30 (KJV) | Music by Georg Frederic Handel, 1742 | Arranged and sung by Tara Ward on Adventus by Church of the Beloved, 2010

He shall feed his flock
Like a shepherd
And he shall gather
The lambs with his arm
With his arm

He shall feed his flock
Like a shepherd
And he shall gather
The lambs with his arm
With his arm

And carry them in his bosom
And gently lead those
That are with young
And gently lead those
And gently lead those
That are with young

Come unto him
All ye that labor
Come unto him
Ye that are heavy laden
And he will give you rest

Come unto him
All ye that labor
Come unto him
Ye that are heavy laden
And he will give you rest

Take his yoke upon you
And learn of him
For he is meek
And lowly of heart
And ye shall find rest
And ye shall find rest
Unto your souls

Take his yoke upon you
And learn of him
For he is meek
And lowly of heart
And ye shall find rest
And ye shall find rest
Unto your souls

Born out of a group of friends’ reading of Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen, the Church of the Beloved in Edmonds, Washington, was active from 2006 to 2019. It had a vibrant music ministry, led by Tara Ward, that put out four albums, including Adventus. One of the tracks on Adventus is Ward’s slow, ambient, synth-driven arrangement of “He Shall Feed His Flock,” an air from Handel’s Messiah. Charles Jennens, the librettist (lyricist) of the oratorio, combined passages from Isaiah and Matthew to evoke a sense of the deep soul-rest and care that Christ proffers. Church of the Beloved’s rendition so beautifully captures the weariness we often feel, whether we’re on a spiritual path or not, and is a gentle reminder that Christ is always calling us back into his bosom.