Hi everyone!
It's that time of year when I enjoy extra time for reflection. Seeing where I am, where I've been, and what might be ahead are all part of the process. Equally important is assessing my journey of faith and how that connects to the art I am making.
2022 held what I would characterize as some disheartening and “disenchanting” experiences for me. There were enough disappointments and discouraging outcomes for me this year, I questioned if my sense of wonder (and fun, one of my core values) was either something of the past or was now becoming a rarity.
A “head under water” feeling came over me more than once — the result of grasping at experiences and opportunities in desperation to reignite my sense of imagination and awe. The Fiery Ascension of the Prophet Elijah features Elisha holding onto the cloak of his master, a symbol of his reluctance to being left on his own. I see myself in this scene — trying to keep a hold of that sense of connection with the Divine.
So much of the time, we have no control over what life hands us. Each of us must decide how we will receive and hold the circumstances we encounter. What I share with you in this issue maps out ways to cultivate and nurture our awareness of enchantment... joy... wonder... inspiration... miracle... MAGIC.
A WORLD OF DISENCHANTMENT
Here in American culture, we are conditioned to find the logical or scientific explanation behind everything. We are encouraged to take on a skepticism which is often presented as both caution and wisdom. Nothing is actually magic… its all “smoke and mirrors” as my dad likes to say. Yet we at least love the fantasy of it. And to solve our enchantment cravings, we work to construct magic on our own. Modern day marketing, advertising, entertainment, even church has gathered up all the psychology around feelings of awe and wonder and found calculated ways to generate these responses in us at just the right moment so we are compelled to click or buy or commit.
Additionally, shame is often implemented to “help” us avoid feeling anything uncomfortable because this would make us uncool, sad, lonely or just empty and pathetic. Have you ever unsubscribed from a company email list? Smart marketing will include a message in that process such as: “We hate to see you go. You will no longer get the best possible offerings here at X Y Z. Are you sure you want to end this amazing opportunity?” They keep trying to hook us into the belief that we are throwing away possibility and with it the opportunity to be wowed.
The entire Hallmark movie genre is based on the miracles we long to believe our world might deliver to us. Yet... these modern day fairytales are structured around a script so predictable you can play BINGO over what happens next. Entertaining? Yes. But they don't feel like real miracles.
I had opportunity to venture abroad on spiritual pilgrimage to Ireland, England and Scotland this fall (a trip originally scheduled for 2020). Though the trip went well and was filled with many good things, traveling in a pandemic-cautious world yielded many moments of frustration for me. I found it challenging not to be preoccupied with the illness prevention measures of our tour group. Having gone on pilgrimage before and experienced BIG moments of awe, I expected the same for this trip. When it did not immediately yield results on a similar level, I was tempted to think of this trip as a disappointment.
One of the places we visited on that trip makes a fine example of the modern day commercialized miracle. Holywell is a town in Wales named after its claim to fame — a miraculous well associated with a saint named Winifriede. If this was indeed a site for miracles in the past, I got all the vibes God was no longer hanging out here. All curiosity, possibility and wonder had drowned in that cloudy greenish water sitting in the pool padlocked — so no one could touch it and be healed except at official and appropriately overseen church-sanctioned events — where an air pump now mechanically replicates an angel miraculously stirring the waters like at the pool of Bethesda and an admission fee is required just to gaze upon this dank ancient marvel. I could not wait to get out of this town.
I wonder as I wander out under the sky...
How Jesus the Savior did come for to die.
For poor on'ry people like you and like I...
I wonder as I wander out under the sky.
When Mary birthed Jesus 'twas in a cow's stall,
With wise men and farmers and shepherds and all.
But high from God's heaven a star's light did fall,
And the promise of ages it then did recall.
If Jesus had wanted for any wee thing,
A star in the sky, or a bird on the wing,
Or all of God's angels in heav'n for to sing,
He surely could have it, 'cause he was the King.
Disenchanted Christmas
Do you remember from A Charlie Brown Christmas how Charlie Brown goes out to get a Christmas tree for the pageant? When he returns, he sets it on the piano and half the needles fall off. The response is harsh…
“Boy are you stupid, Charlie Brown.”… “You were supposed to get a good tree. Can’t you even tell a good tree from a poor tree?” … “You’re hopeless, Charlie Brown.” … “Completely hopeless.” … “You’ve been dumb before, Charlie Brown, but this time you really did it.” … [ALL LAUGHING]
Linus had tried talking him out of the sad little tree they found at the Christmas tree lot, but Charlie Brown was insistent: “This little green one here seems to need a home... I don’t care. We’ll decorate it, and it’ll be just right for our play. Besides, I think it needs me.”
Then after his public humiliation, Charlie Brown succumbs to defeat: “I shouldn’t have picked this little tree. Everything I do turns into a disaster. I guess I don’t know what Christmas is about.”
PRACTICING CURIOSITY
Here is a favorite picture from my 2022 camera roll. I love this picture because it so easily sparks questions. Walking past our glass dining room door one morning, I saw this.
What is going on here?
How did the snake get here?
What led up to this?
Above is an artwork I was commissioned to create for my oldest daughter, Madeline. It’s a copy of a painting called Procession of Souls by the French artist, Louis Weldon Hawkins from 1893. The painter says little about it other than it features a sculpture made by another artist. The meaning is obscure. It evokes questions. This makes the piece appealing and good for contemplation and meditation.
Who are these souls?
Where are they going?
What is meant by the river and fog between them and the church?
Curiosity is asking questions. It is also a sitting with mystery. Curiosity keeps us open to possibility and with possibility there comes wonder, awe and miracle.
But we have to cultivate and maintain this mindset. It doesn’t just happen. In fact, science tells us that our brains would rather we close loops, button up narratives and come to conclusions — our amazing little minds actually reward us with dopamine when we solve things… even if we’ve landed on the wrong conclusion (such as making assumptions when we don’t actually have all the facts around a situation — you can read more about all this in Brene Brown’s book, dare to lead).
RARE SIGHTINGS
This longing and pursuit to explore mystery and find the hidden miracles around me prompted work on a new series of art which will focus on the idea of rare sightings — specifically sightings of animals in the wild here in South Dakota. Jackalope is the first of these pieces. While we consider the Jackalope to be a mythical creature, there is some basis in truth around this legend — a rare and quite grotesque disease that can plague jackrabbits causing protruding growths from their heads resembling horns.
But when a thousand years have passed away,
And the long ages weigh upon its head...
desirous of new birth,
It leaves the sacred groves, it seeks the earth
Where death is regnant.
There doth it build
Or nest or tomb — it dies that it may live,
And by itself creates itself anew.
Excerpt from De Ave Phanice (The Phoenix) by Lantantius, 3rd century.
The Gift Bearers — Phoenixes
The legend of the phoenix bird goes way back… centuries actually, and not just in one culture. This mythical bird is found in the lore of Chinese, Japanese, Vietnamese, Greek and Egyptian cultures — each of which vary, but all of which involve fire and immortality. It continues to stand as a powerful symbol of renewal and resurrection, consecration and obedience, virtue and grace.
The opportunity to explore this symbol and create two artworks came from a client’s art commission request. In research for these pieces, I soon landed on the 3rd century poem by Lantantius (advisor to Roman Emporer Constantine), De ave phoenice, an allegory which compares the bird to Christ. It is from this text my phoenixes rise.
The form of the bird is influenced by my love of the ancient Egyptian styles, specifically that of Horus, the falcon god who carries the sun and moon across the sky. Here the ball carried by the phoenix is the remains of its former self which it carries back to heaven to place on the altar within the sacred temple’s holy shrine — thus it becomes a gift bearer. I burned the bird onto the wooden panel of this piece using lemon juice and a torch — a fitting method to use in the creation of a phoenix.
The flaming circle behind the bird is that of a mandorla — a symbol from Christian icon art that symbolizes an opening between the heavenly realm and the earthly realm — the “breaking forth” spoken of in the ancient Scripture texts.
Ascribing personal meaning to this symbolic bird is common. “Rising from the ashes” is an apt saying for anyone who has overcome personal difficulties, devastations or misfortune..
Exploring the Details
I recently pulled a book from my bookshelf that I thought could help me. I was sure Recapturing the Wonder by Mike Cosper (you may know him as the host from The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast series) would remind me how to regain what I felt I had lost hold of. Initially, I was a bit upset. I read several chapters hoping he was going to drop the secret to unlocking the magic again only to have Mike say… it is in the ordinary that we encounter enchantment... our problem is thoughtlessness... the solution can be found in embracing simple daily practices and then... pay attention.
"That's too simple. It must be something more," I concluded.
But as I sat in the mystery of Mike's words, I realized he was right — I have known this to be true before — this was what I had forgotten. That enchantment was still there… it was most certainly present on the pilgrimage trip in the small moments. The intricate details of our lives will reveal the magic of God’s kingdom, Immanuel, God with us, if we take up a practice to look closely.
Looking at the intricate details is something I love in making art. I finished my work on an art piece after the Chi Rho page from The Book of Kells Gospel volume in early 2022. I started this piece last year in December. It is a very elaborate and embellished, filled with all kinds of exquisite detail, visual of Christ’s monogram consisting of the Greek letters XPI. The X is that dancing shape accented with a diamond (also a symbol of Christ according to the ancient Celtic Christians) at its cross section. If you are unfamiliar you can read about this project here in my newsletter from last Christmas.
In the beginning was the Word. The Word was with God, and the Word was God. He existed in the beginning with God. God created everything through him, and nothing was created except through him. The Word gave life to everything that was created, and his life brought light to everyone. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it. — John 1:1-5
YOU WILL LONG TO SEE THE DAY
In the Advent lectionary passage from Isaiah 7, King Ahaz of Judah demonstrates what it is to be unopen to possibility. His mind is set on what he believes will happen — two of his enemies are going to join forces and attach Judah and Jerusalem. The king is so closed to any other possible outcome that he refuses God’s offer to prove to him there is no need to fear these enemies.
“Ask for proof, a sign from the Eternal your God. Go ahead, ask anything, anything at all; it can be high as heaven or as deep as the place of the dead.”
God invites Ahaz to be curious, to consider possibility and Ahaz stubbornly and arrogantly says NO. Then God says He’s giving a sign anyway…
See, a young maiden will conceive. She will give birth to a son and name Him Immanuel, that is, “God with us.” — Isaiah 7:14
The irony is this sign won’t happen until Ahaz is long gone — he’ll never see it (but even if it had occurred right then an there, Ahaz still wouldn’t have seen it - he wasn’t paying attention.)
Love's Enchantment
When Charlie Brown concludes he’s made a mistake in buying the little tree, what he says next may come more from of place of exasperation than curiosity, but he asks the question: “Isn’t there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?”
And after Linus willingly and beautifully recites Luke 2:8-14, Charlie Brown again feels that spark of possibility for his little tree: “I’ll take this little tree home and decorate it… and I’ll show them it really will work.” But again, after hanging one ornament on the tree and seeing it slump over under the weight, Charlie Brown is discouraged and walks away. It’s Linus who ultimately is paying attention to the tree’s miraculous potential. He carefully wraps his beloved blanket around the tree saying, “Maybe it just needs a little love.” With this act, the tree instantly becomes taller, fuller and a miraculously decorated wonder to behold.
Suddenly everyone is there and shouts, “Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown!” and then jubilantly breaks into song, “Hark the herald angels sing, glory to the new born King!”
A Charlie Brown Christmas is a classic piece of Americana this time of year and was the inspiration behind our family Christmas card. My daughters requested that I create something that features our two house cats, Coconut and Nutmeg, seen here giving the tree some love.
THIS SHALL BE A SIGN UNTO YOU
The Isaiah 7 passage definitely sparked my curiosity this year. I think I’ve always understood the sign of the virgin and the baby to be for the Israelites back then and for all the world together since then. I don’t know that I’d ever felt in those words an offering to me as an individual.… was this sign also for me personally?
One day the Pharisees asked Jesus, “When will the Kingdom of God come?” Jesus replied, “The Kingdom of God can’t be detected by visible signs. Then he said to his disciples, “The time is coming when you will long to see the day when the Son of Man returns, but you won’t see it… That night two people will be asleep in one bed; one will be taken, the other left. Two women will be grinding flour together at the mill; one will be taken, the other left.” — Luke 17:20,22,34-35
Jesus is the master of weaving mystery and wonder into the very things he says. In the Advent lectionary text from Luke 17, Jesus seems to be talking about the hour of his second coming, but he is also talking about how the kingdom arrives (has arrived and is somehow still to arrive). I’ve reached new thoughts in reflecting on this passage, my own experience, Mike Cosper’s observation and that story about Ahaz…
We are invited to seek and find God’s magic and mystery in the ordinary.
Both being in bed and grinding flour couldn’t be more ordinary! This is how the enchantment of our world by the Eternal One happens. We will discover it only when and if we are paying attention.
I attended a performance of Handel’s Messiah put on by a local singing society that was revived just this year — prior to the pandemic this organization had dissolved due to lack of interest. The house was packed, the choir was full of energetic singers and musicians. It was a beautiful, joyous occasion that soothed some of the pain I’d experienced over the past months. When the chorus boldly declared “The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord!” I felt a surge go through me. I don’t know if anyone around me felt it, but it was a powerful moment for me — a coming of the Kingdom and the Son of Man — I experienced what I think it means to be “taken with no visible signs.”
An "impersonal God" — well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads — better still. A formless life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap — best of all. But God himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, King, husband — that is quite another matter. — C.S. Lewis
Friends, I long for the Kingdom and the presence of our Lord to be made real to you in astounding and enchanting ways among the ordinary happenings and details of your lives in the coming year.