Birthdays and frescos

            May 2^nd, just a few days away, will be our grandson Henry’s third birthday, the first to be celebrated here in the Midwest.  His parents moved the family from their home in in the mountains of North Carolina to Eastern Illinois last summer.  Celebrating his third year of life amid all the new life blossoming around us is a joyous occasion.     

I have thought back to the month we spent in North Carolina three years ago waiting for Henry and then enjoying his first few weeks “on his own.”  Along with the wonderful, simple family times that month, we took a side trip to two nearby towns in the mountains to see the renowned frescos at two Episcopal churches.  Seeing those frescos brought an unexpected illustration of what Christian life can and should be.

When we came to the first small, wooden church, we were surprised by its beautiful stained glass windows in addition to the expected frescos across the altar area.  On the right side of the altar was a rectangular fresco of Mary with child.  On the other side was one of John the Baptist, sparsely clothed, creating somewhat of a wild man appearance consistent with Biblical descriptions of him.   Both characters in the frescos were immediately recognizable.

            Not surprisingly, Jesus on the cross was the prominent figure in the middle area.  He and the other figures were painted in somewhat muted colors.  But at the top of the cross just above Jesus’ head was an image of the resurrected Christ, his head, chest and arms appearing almost as if sketched in various shades of gray.  Seeing this combination of the crucifixion and Jesus rising from the dead was very striking and memorable.

            We then drove through some very dense fog—we were determined—as we ventured higher into the mountains toward the second church.  This, too, was a small, wooden, church, green and white on the outside.  Sadly, there were no pretty windows but inside, the fresco of the last supper filled the altar area with rich colors in the very recognizable depiction of this special meal.

            At both churches, we pushed a button at the entrance to hear a recorded commentary on the churches and the frescos.  The information was surprisingly interesting, including each church’s history and detailed descriptions of the making of the frescos.  The distinctive feature about a painting of this kind is in how the masterpiece is created.  An artist works on the wall’s plaster while it is still wet and fresh, creating the artwork as something intrinsic with the wall, not just on its surface.  The wall and the painting then are inseparable, woven into each other’s actual substance.

            Is this merging of substances in the creation of a fresco not an illustration of what our lives are to be like as members of the body of Christ?  Our belief in Christ and the living out of the faith God gives to us are not to be externally applied to parts of our lives, such as church attendance and related activities.

            Instead, His holy substance, His life is to be soaked into every aspect of who we are and how we live.  Jesus spoke of Himself as what should be the permeating substance of our very beings.  “I am the vine, you are the branches; he who abides in Me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing” (John 15:5 )  .He is to be our spiritual food and drink as the bread of life and the living water. 

               Sharing little Henry’s début in the world that spring three years ago was beyond special and joyous.  A sweet addition was the side trip to the churches and the illustration of Christian life that the frescoes presented.  May we all as Christians feast on this life-giving substance of Christ and strive to be living frescos, wet and yielding to the brush strokes of God’s Holy Spirit.

                

 

                

 

                       

 

 

                

 

                

 

                       

 

 

Overcoming with good

On last Sunday’s Meet the Press program, there was much discussion of the Boston bombings and the response to them both in Boston, around the country and throughout the world.  Following comments about unity and the resilience of the American people, Tom Brokaw wanted to take a larger vantage point, one calling for some reflection and examination. 

“What I see is an opportunity for the American citizens to get involved in trying to do something about the culture of violence that has become such a large part of our lives. . .  This is the time for us to have that debate.  Here we are in the 21^st century, the most advanced nation in the world, and as I said earlier this week, we have third-world vulnerabilities almost everywhere we go.” 

This reminded me of another round table discussion in January, 2011, and what I wrote after watching it:

               “Following the shootings in Arizona, much has been said about who or what is wrong or right and what can be done to make America safer, kinder, better.  But surprisingly, it was on Meet the Press, a Sunday morning news show, that a columnist presented our need to recognize sin.

               As the discussion considered how America has gotten off track with acrimony and finger pointing among other things, David Brooks described a more fundamental cause.  ‘It’s sinfulness . . . an awareness of how sinned . . .’ and weak we are.   ‘We’ve had a culture which has downplayed sin and therefore people think, ‘I—my way’s the right way . . .’ and so that’s a kind of deep problem to get over.’  Deep, indeed.

               The show panelists did not go on to call people to repent before God, but they did address the necessary beginning of a powerful, heart and life transforming repentance—the revelation that we are sinful, that each one of us, no matter how brilliant, knowledgeable or experienced, stands on level ground with all others as sinners. . .

True humility not only sees this need for God’s grace, but also realizes our continued need for God.  Each and every day has to be fueled with his wisdom, power and love.  True humility draws us ever nearer to God and reminds us that we don’t live in a world full of us and thems, our designated grouping always being the right one. . .”

Despite the differences between Boston in 2013,  Newtown in 2012, and Tucson in 2011, there are glaring similarities:  the horror of such violent loss of life, the intense grief of many families and communities, the availability of fire power, and the continued resistance of people and legislators to work together to make America safer and better.  The end of the article I wrote after Tucson, still applies today.

                “Arizona Sheriff Clarence Dupnik, both praised and criticized, suggested that as a country, ‘we do a little soul searching.’  With the monumental problems that face us today, let us heed these calls to examine ourselves, to not ‘be overcome with evil,’ but ‘to overcome evil with good’ (Rom. 12:21) as God’s grace and power enable us to.”   

              

                

              

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Light will come

                 I don’t remember ever being directed to a particular verse in Psalm 112—until last night.  I was listening to an interview with the widow and two daughters of the law official in Colorado who was fatally shot when he opened the door at his home.  This woman, so freshly visited by yet another violent killing in our country, talked at the very end about choosing to dwell on the good years she had with her husband, not on how that came to a terrible end.  Very simply she then mentioned a verse that is meaningful to her, quoting “When darkness overtakes the godly, light will come bursting in” (Psalm 112:4 NLT).

                As I searched for this verse on the internet, I found its origin and also some commentary on its insight.  The point was made that the godly, the God-fearing, are not spared all difficulties and hardships, but God’s help comes to them in these hard places.  Daniel was thrown into the lions’ den, but God was there with him, protecting and saving him from certain destruction.  David had to face the giant, but he was victorious in that confrontation because he put his trust in God’s name.  Lazarus was sick and died, but Jesus raised him from the dead.  Paul and his shipmates were tossed about at sea by a terrible storm, but God preserved their lives just as the angel had told Paul.   

                I am reminded of the chorus in an old hymn called “Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus.”  The focus is definitely on Jesus, describing a close and expectant friendship with Him:  “Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him, how I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er.”  Proving Jesus.  What are the “nuts and bolts” of trusting Jesus?  A part of this would have to be fixing our eyes and our hopes on Him, just as Peter looked at Jesus when he was successful in walking on the stormy sea in the gospel story.

                Turning to God, looking for the light in the midst of our dark times, gives the opportunity to see His saving love and power.  If we look to our own understanding and abilities, we will be like the questioning disciples who saw no way a boy’s lunch could feed a crowd of thousands.  When we feel overwhelmed and fearful, we can open our minds and hearts to God’s words, the living words freshly spoken to us as we listen for the still, small voice of God.  We can look for the light He will give.  He calls us to “be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God” (Romans 12:3).