Dads Rock

I got a quick little graphic art assignment from church last Tuesday.  "Can we get it by Thursday."  OK.  Sounds fun.

Chrysalis Christianity

I sit across from people and help identify their present: Right now, Who are you? Who is God? How are you living? Sometimes I see the incongruities between the answers to those three questions. Their faith penetrates the soil of their lives, often quite deeply, like roots - twisting, turning, burrowing, making room, fracturing the hard pan and clay. But so many (all) have rocks and even boulders where that faith does not seem to penetrate. Sometimes those boulders are so obvious, so incongruant, so much an obstacle that I feel this impatient need to pull out the jackhammer.

I know it hurts, SIT STILL! It's for your own good don't you know! 

For the record, God is not this way.

I was talking with a mentor the other day, and she confirmed that this festering impatience is in her too.  "But you can't squeeze a butterfly out of its chrysalis."  That's the picture I left with that day.

God lets wheat and tares grow up together. He explains, "because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest."

Clearly we are to tend the garden of our souls, but don't let impatience or guilt cloud the underlying truth.  We the elect are already planted as true good seed right down to the DNA, but not yet fulfilled. He is faithful to complete what he has started!

"I know he is faithful" they say, "in my head anyway..."

That is a great place to start.  Lets talk about what you know of His faithfulness!

Rabbit Heart

Rabbit heart danced in perpetual jerky fitfull loops

"Never stopping means always safe," she gasped,
bloodshot eyes scanning the horizon.

Rock heart watched with persisting calm and curious wonder

Rabbit's burning circuit.

This way, that
This way, that
Going, going

nowhere fast

With determined measure and a slow certainty 

Rock placed his hand as an obstacle to her circuit.

from the corner of the eye, 

a stationary blur, 

Ahead unmoving... Shock. 

Stumble or stand? 

Stumble or Stand!?!

skidding on her chin to a gritty halt.

Listen... he intoned.

*silence*

Can you hear ?

*silence*

Listen...

Three Questions

Are two words copyrightable?  If so, see here.  Put your dime in that cup.

Who am I?

Who is God?

How am I living?

It ALL comes back to this:  Know yourself.  Know God.  Move forward.  

Peripateo is a Greek word that translates as a beautiful mix of walking and living.  To LIVE means to MOVE.  

These three simple questions open a door to discernment and growth in the Spirit that astounds me time after time after time.  

Today:

I am peaceful, though there is trouble.

He is in control, my firm foundation.

One blind step at a time.

Going to Print

Nothing like a deadline to bring a work to completion.  I am finally pleased with it.  I am taking it to print in the morning.   Now it needs a title.  the working title is "sacrifice," but it has spoken so much more than that to me over these last few weeks.  I've got a few days to decide on the title.  I am submitting this painting and Co-Heir in the Bear Valley Visual Arts Show, which will run through the 26th.  I'll let you know how it is received.  

I've was invited to speak at Cherry Hills Community Church.  This image will likely be the centerpiece of that engagement.  We haven't finalized the date yet.  It will be sometime this summer after I am through with finals.

Both And

Have you noticed,

Almost every psalm turns back to God.

Art is an abiding language.  

You can't be in its presence and stray for long.  

It takes you into itself.  

It doesn't just scream truth into the aether.

It always invites you in.

Feel it

Experience it

Know it intimately

abide

This quality makes art profoundly apologetic,

connecting heart and mind.

Didactic teaching cannot be 

the Gospel without words.

Cracking the Nut

In a past life I found a mathematical metaphor for everything I loved about Architectural Design. It was the Leplace transform. Take calculus and turn it into algebra. You could write an infomercial about this thing.

"It slices , it dices, it makes mounds and mounds of coleslaw!"

What I loved about Architectural Design was solving a complex problem through the means of an artificial conceptual framework. All of the difficulties came together easily once the concept was discerned. Once the nut is cracked in that conceptual world, you can "transform" it back into our world as built form. And it didn't really matter to me if anyone inhabiting the built form ever knew the concept. I knew it. I let it take up residence in my built form. It peaked at you from every corner, because each detail was informed by the concept holding the space together. With great assurance and even pride I knew the built form reverberated with a deep truth, a central kernel that made it beautiful, and right, and maybe even perfect! At least that was the goal.

Jesus Christ was the transform in my life. I let Him take up residence in me. He peaks out at you from every corner because each detail is being informed by the God Man who holds this space together.

Now I am trying to discern the "nut" that needs to be cracked in this painting. This painting is a detail of my life that needs to be informed by Christ. Yet, it isn't for me. I am designing a work of art that every person will possess and assess differently. Truly this is the beauty of art. As each person abides with the work, it somehow unlocks the truths that are within them. I need to see that the painting is more like the transform than the complex puzzle to be solved. We are the complex puzzle to be solved.

She asked me, "Have you asked God what the nut is?"

"Hmmm, No. Let's do that!"

As I drove up Santa Fe yesterday I asked Him. Do you know what He said?

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Work In Progress

I am attempting to "complete the process" this semester - cross the finish line - persevere - diligently cross my t's and dot my i's. To bring it past the inspiration to the fulfillment of purpose. And I mean that for all of life really, not just this painting. But this yet unfinished painting is a signpost at a fork in the road. What do I do now to complete it? What do you see here?


Which is the likeness of Christ? Which is the likeness I want for myself? Which do I want for you, brother? For you, Sister? For you, son? For you, daughter?

I see the dissonance between the sacrificial servant savior bloodied and beaten, ready to die, extending his hand of blessing to one pristine and polished with good posture.

At once I feel grateful for His sacrificial blessing, and yet see the ways I am far from His likeness. What is this good news transforming us into?

Cast off the distancing mask of perfection.
Embrace the melody of brokenness and the melody of grace.
He has shown the way.

The Sacrifice

How do you know when you have given enough?

When can you say, "I need?"

I might die before you right now,

But I will do so for you.

This is Sacrifice

And I give all

Edward Knippers

http://www.edknippers.com/

For those who may not be familiar, I would love to hear your feedback on Edward Knippers paintings. His Pieta brings me to tears every time.

Two Vignettes

I feel it...
like some sort of inward creep
THICK & SOLID

not pushed by desire
just habit

numbing
deadening
clouding

STOP!
_________________

Oh gentle ache
Tell me your name
Oh tender pain
All mine
All mine
Lost loved one
still heart break
to the rim
Rising
Rising
But it won't overflow

Numinous

"I have come to view human psychology as the efficiency of one's functioning, and human spirituality as the dynamic process of love in one's life."

(May, Care of mind -Care of Spirit, XVI)

God isn't efficient in terms of economy or expediency, much preferring the costly and circuitous path. Yet God is efficient in terms of being effective - performing and functioning in the best possible manner. I like May's phrase, the dynamic process of love. It describes the Holy Spirit's actions in our lives. Not expedient by any means - but entirely effective!

I've stumbled on a new word. Numinous. As in, "pay attention to the numinous - that which surpasses comprehension - the supernaturally mysterious presence and activity of God." I used to describe my way of thinking on nearly all topics as nebulous. I don't work with a hard and fast grid that I fact check everything against. My knowledge and understanding hangs low and thick like a fog, full of sensation, but hard to nail down. At any moment the answer is within grasp. I've become adept at navigating this mental humidity, where it would drive others I know quite crazy.

In terms of faith and theology I was comfortable dwelling in the nebulous-ness of God and His truth, not being a dogmatic sort of fellow. But numinous is so much more appropriate word than nebulous for describing God, isn't it? It's not the nebulous fluff, the fuzzy, undefined-ness of God that I like; it is the mind stretching transcendent-ness of God that refuses to be pinned down or contained by particulars, and yet is actively working all things in each of us who are called according to His purpose. It is that part of Him that you know deep down is true and present and loving and active, but if someone asks you how you know, you can't quite give it adequate words.

Until now - NUMINOUS!

Much of Paul's "pray without ceasing" can be seen as dwelling with attention to the numinous. Much of spiritual direction can be seen as helping others pay attention to the numinous. Our inefficient numinous God so often goes unrecognized because we keep our eyes down, three feet ahead on the path so as not to stumble. We miss him entirely like we miss that brilliant sunset during the congested commute home after a particularly hard day.

Pay attention to the numinous!

Confession

Art is public confession, but it is speaking in tongues. So the communal act is in search of an interpreter. I've been looking through the journal for the last few weeks, and I ~confess~ a bit of aprehension at posting. What do you see/hear here?

Coming down to the ground
Grit under nails
Hoarse cries and the limits of flesh
Not shallow
Deep full and rich life
Something to ponder
Something to marvel at
To keep you up late at night
Scratching your temple

Live of die
Survive or thrive
It rests on the Lord
As do I
No intermediary
But the wagon is full
We'll pick more up along the way
Set course, hoist sail, on the way
Not naive or proud
But with strange assurance
Hope
Trust
Fear
Awe
And rapid sobs bulge my eyes under clenched lids

I'm not good enough
I'm not up to this
I'm not holy enough
I'm not entirely his
I need to be
I want to be
I want to be
I need to be
And He says I am
So I am
Please
Please
Please
Have mercy?
Empower?
Sanctify?
Give Wisdom?
Don't Leave
That's it really

God, Don't Leave.
I'm lost without you and I can't be lost
They need me not to be lost
They deserve me not to be lost

Here Lord, Have my faith.

Unapologetic Visibility

I have been sitting on an article I read for months now. I've shared it with a few friends at seminary. Another friend had the magazine for several weeks. I've been anticipating sharing it here. Waiting for a time that seemed right. Wondering what I would write.

It's about 11:14 pm right now and the magazine is on my bed stand upstairs next to my sleeping wife. I'm not going to go get it. But I want to share the feeling it gave me.

Months ago I was lying in bed reading this article and felt a strange sensation. A tingle of recognition and anticipation. A sort of tension in the chest, coupled with the hint of smile and a glisten in the eye. A sense that something profound was just said, that some truth was just lit by a subtle but unmistakable flash of brilliance. It's a feeling I love and it is all to rare, nearly unique to this article, save one book. It happens all the time when I read the Word.

I make no claims of inspiration for this article. I think that sensation was more about the Holy Spirit within me than anything. God can speak to you anywhere if you listen. And that night Artur Grabowski spoke deeply into my heart of hearts. His insight resonated with my own, though his life experience was entirely different. It made me want to know him. To find him. To talk to him more about this truth he could so eloquently expound! To find out how these insights have shaped his walk of faith. To ask him to tell me more!

I've read the article at least three times through, and I underlined at least 20% of it. Here is one line (Do I risk it from memory?) that stood out, shared here completely out of context.

We only have room in our faith based intellectual salons for clean shaven mystics in designer suits. I fear this kind of apophatic faith is like a government job - secure and undemanding.

The article was published in Image Journal, issue 59. It was titled Unapologetic Visibility. It was regarding our loss of individual ability and even the communal spiritual value of imagining God. His picture of practicing faith was full of risk and mess and sublime encounter as the church together shared vividly their insights experiences and speculations into the person of God. In the face of the risk he offered that God imagined poorly in the community of God and context of faith is better than a God not thought of at all, left to the experts.

I think He's right. We can't let fear of getting it wrong, of hitting the wrong notes, stop of from hearing, playing, and enjoying the music of grace.

So I challenge you. Imagine Him. Show me Christ in a photograph. Imagine him with a brush. Let the words flow from your pen. Capture the exuberance of regeneration with a pirouette. Bake sacrificial love into a pie. Give voice to that place inside that is transformed by His very presence, and share it with those around you.

Maybe they will get a strange sensation and ask you to tell them more.

Up Down All Around

This last Sunday was our last at our church home for the last six years. Amanda and I have been processing the departure together, and it has a strange mix of relief, sadness, excitement, and anxiousness. This is going to be a season of activity requiring some discipline. For the first time in a... well... maybe for the first time ever, I feel the entirety of the "head of household" responsibility for the spiritual well being of our family. God is good, and faithful, and present. But the local church as a conduit of His grace and care for our souls is now less present, less constant - removed to the outlying status of distant relatives rather than the tight knit nuclear family it has been.

There is a more pressing urgency to be acting on past discernment, and to be bringing all attentiveness to His still small voice. Seminary starts again on Monday. I am grateful to be rekindling time spent before the Lord with attentive Mentors and Spiritual Directors!

I have to decide whether my Character Formation Learning Contract this semester will be specifically related to artistic growth and expression, or a more traditionally central discipline. To do artistry would be to have the T/M process at seminary end in a clean arc with a common thread. To do the other is to hold the discovery and growth I have had integrating my creativity with my faith in its proper position. My identity is still in Christ. My focus is still submitted humble obedience to his will and call. Artistry is simply a gift and evidence of His imparted image. It is who I am in Him, but it is not all that I am in Him. I am leaning toward a focus on body prayer. Integrating my physical awareness and activity into the surrendered life of faith hangs out there as untested, unattained.

Finding Galilee

Memories dance vaguely out of reach
of laughter, acceptance, peace, and inspiration...
But now a heaviness weights her chest
and it seems connected somehow to her eyes,
Because it is drawing long heavy drops down her face.

Searching frantic and confused
trembling and bewildered
in this dead and empty place
made for dry bones and linen
Dark all around
An unvoiceable cry burns in her throat
as her eyes dart back and forth
hands clutching her face for fear it might escape
and end her

Where was that place in memory sweet?
I can't seem to remember anymore.
How did I ever walk out the door?

You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene who was crucified. He is not here. He is risen! He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see Him. Just as he told you.

So she is finding Galilee
A forgotten land, lost somehow, taken away
She is finding Galilee
The home of promise and beginnings
She is finding Galilee
Where He held her close and called her His own
She is finding Galilee
Where she prays He waits for her still

---

I show the way home through tears of my own
Offer wide embrace wipe tears from her face
I do not wait in a distant lands
No hell or torment keeps me from your hand.

Woman, why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?

Rabboni!

I am with you always to the end of the age.

Like a Mustard Seed

This little concept sketch about faith was developed for a "make a gift for < $5" exchange. I'm not completely satisfied with it. The woman as "Faith rooted in prayer" needs to be a bit more stylized.

Play Me

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the word

I am the tune

Play me!

I was invited to the Denver stop of Neil Diamond's world tour tonight. And for the record, NEIL DIAMOND ROCKS!

Yes, my 30 year old sister and I rocked out with a bunch of grey hairs as the 67 year old Neil out did himself with a non stop, no intermission, 2 1/2 hour show. We were teethed on this guy's music. Our father lived and breathed Neil through the 80's.

He's got to be up there among the best song writers to ever live. He has an uncanny ability to reach down into the depths of a situation and make you feel it down to your toes. With that rich raspy voice and gift for melody he exudes Joy, Pain, Loneliness, Love, heartbreak, patriotism...

and Faith.

I noticed something tonight... A red thread in his work. A presence of the Holy. A wrestling with God, a questioning, then a discovery! And in the later work a coming home, a rest and a peace.

This was no Evangelical worship fest, but it was indeed a God honoring christian concert. His body of work speaks for itself. Consider this artist's song of salvation. She is the Holy Spirit.

PLAY ME



She was morning

And I was night time

I one day woke up

To find her lying

Beside my bed

I softly said

"Come take me"

For I've been lonely

In need of someone

As though I'd done

Someone wrong somewhere

I don't know where

Come lately

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the words

I am the tune

Play me

Song she sang to me

Song she brang to me

Words that rang in me

Rhyme that sprang from me

Warmed the night

And what was right

Became me

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the words

I am the tune

Play me

And so it was

That I came to travel

Upon a road

That was thorned and narrow

Another place

Another grace

Would save me

You are the sun

I am the moon

You are the word

I am the tune

Play me

The subtlety and beauty of these lyrics astound me. The task of the artist is to tell it slant. We communicate in ways that compel attention, but are not pregnant with clarity of meaning. A little discernment is required. Perhaps a work of the Spirit. Consider Christ's Parables!

No question this song gained popular acceptance as a song of romantic love and a muse. But this song is a beautiful prayer of submission and humility before God. God is the source, he is a mere reflector of God's glory. God is the message, he is colorful presentation - an instrument in His hand. And Neil offers his prayer: Play me!

This is my prayer.

Check out his lyrics from the last few years. They are more blatant in their content. These songs were new to me tonight:

Man of God, Pretty Amazing Grace, Hell Yeah

These songs aren't on his greatest hits albums. In fact his last few albums have barely gone gold, after having had a stream of multi platinum. They are worth another look though. This man is pointing us to God.

Emergence

God, I am in Love with you. I desire nothing but you. I want to die so I can see you right now face to face. You have my all. Where else can I go? You not only have the words of life, you are the lover of my soul. There is no way I can be taken out of your hand. Hardship may come. Doubt and pain likely lie before me. But come what may, I choose to say blessed be your name. I am yours.

You are faithful... when I am faithless. You are strong... when I am weak. You are impassioned... when I am apathetic. You just ARE. period. And I can't get enough of knowing you.

I pursued you and found you where you were to be seen. But there were places I did not look. Places I thought were out of bounds to you. (Imagine that) That is why I was in awe to find you within me, shaping down to the depths, guiding up from the abyss, and emerging victorious! I was shocked to see you in my own reflection. But I am not shocked anymore. I believe what you have told me. I know who I am. I am yours. I see that it is true! Lord, point me where I am to go.

You patch the broken vessels. You breath life into the dust. You restore that which was fallen. I am living proof.

Don't just be in me, Lord Jesus. Live in me.

Trees Walking

He looked up and said, "I see people; they look like trees walking around."

Did Jesus' power wane on that day he healed the blind man's sight? My theology says no, but that day it took two tries to achieve clarity of sight.

A traditional interpretation tells us Jesus uses different means to the same ends, and His more earthy means do not negate His divinity or omnipotence. In other words, it wasn't a screw up.

A little spit.
A little mud.
Rub it in the eyes.
Two tries

- then the man could finally see clearly.

While true, that interpretation sidesteps something. What is the point of Christ's methods, and the intermediate outcome? As I understand God's workings, He seems to care so much about journey and the means. The journey and the means of getting there are just as important as the destination and the end. And in this healing passage we encounter such a strange mid point on the journey - people like trees walking around.

We could be rational - scientific! Maybe the first try healed his eyes allowing the light to reach his brain, but a second healing was needed to fill his brain with all the necessary neural pathways and signs and symbols to understand what he could now see. Maybe...

But what if the middle step wasn't a deficiency or an accident? What if the man saw something true? What if he saw something real? A deeper alternate discernment that is not of the eyes? What if it was granted temporarily to him so it could be recorded in Scripture for all of us?


What if we, indeed, are the trees walking around?

The type of a tree is used again and again in God's revelation. There's the tree of knowledge of good and evil - the gateway to depravity. There's the burning bush - God making himself visible. There's the hyssop branch used to brush the doorpost with blood - marking God's people to be passed over. Then of course the Cross - God's chosen instrument of salvation. Vines and branches, bearing fruit, mustard seeds, withered figs, on and on. And this blind man sees people like trees walking around.

I don't mean to push a mixed metaphor too far, and I certainly am. But we could do a lot worse than seeing people as trees walking around.

The other night I had a vision. A dark tree was split by a light descending which unfolded into a book with one red page. The tree splayed open, and several lights emerged from the book, encircling it. There was a serene and vacant village in the background.

As I put the vision to paper, the act of working it before the Lord opened some new details: a wash of red, the blood of Christ; the curves of the supine branches touching the red, the use of hyssop at the passover; a hint of green, new life in Him; and then I had a real sense: I am this tree.

This calling to speak God's word exercised through artistic gifts is to make the invisible God visible - to make God accessible. It is His work and I am a vessel - sort of like a burning bush. But understand. It is not just me. I am not in this alone. I am this tree, but we are the trees! (here I mean the church) We, collectively, are God's vessel of visibility. We are the burning bush. We are branches dipped in blood applying grace to the lives of many. And we are the instrument of both Christ's pain and of God's salvation.