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May the words of my mouth, and the meditations of
our hearts, be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our
redeemer Amen.
I am not an artist.
However, when I was in college I once took an intensive studio art course.
It was an art course that was designed for non-artists.
The Art School at my
university was an esteemed institution, rejecting nine out of every
ten applicants. Our professor was a senior faculty member of the Art
School, a short man, African American, and with a deep and resonant
voice that matched the profound things he would say. He was a quiet
and passionate man.
I think he taught the
course out of a desire to evangelize among those who did not yet fully
grasp the power that visuals can wield. But before he could teach us
how to create, he had to teach us how to see.
***
One of our assignments
was to create “color poems.”
We were given white,
rectangular pieces of paper with a pattern of squares and rectangles
on a grid that filled the page. These were very tame forms, defined
by lines criss-crossing the page at about an inch in width.
We were asked to take
tempera paint and mix three colors to make whatever colors we chose.
(Remember that from mixing just three primary colors you can make any
color in existence.) And we were to fill in the boxes until the entire
page was full of color. It was like filling in a page of an abstract
coloring book
Most of us naively
thought that there wasn’t much to do with such restrictive parameters.
We wanted to impress our esteemed professor, and so most of us went
for gold, forsaking all subtlety. Some of us created extreme color contrasts
for dramatic effect. Others colored over the lines, or brushed the paper
with great globs of paint trying to be like Van Gogh. Like real artists,
we could not be confined!
I believe that most
of us were quite proud of ourselves that we had not done boring color
poems, and we displayed them on the walls of the little studio classroom
at our next meeting, and we awaited our professor’s praise.
He was furious. He
saw that we completely missed the point.
The pattern we had
been given offered infinite possibilities without any need to paint
over the lines. Color alone is a powerful medium that can express things
that words cannot.
For example, our professor
showed us paintings by Josef
Albers that were simply two or more squares of different colors
set within each other. Just pure color interplay, and surprisingly interesting,
beautiful and expressive!
In fact, you can take
any great painting and squint your eye and see that the grid underneath
is essentially a color poem. To see it more easily, look at any of Mark
Rothko’s large canvasses. Why does he add a tiny bit of orange in
an unexpected place? Why does that change everything else about the
rest of the canvass?
We non-artist students
had never thought of any of this before. Our eyes were being opened.
We started to see our world, and not just art, in new ways.
In my office, I have
two large paintings by Edward
Hopper. I have them there because I love them, but also because
they remind me of this lesson of remembering how to see. Hopper’s paintings
are often of buildings and nature, but underneath they are inspired
color poems. He disguises them as scenes of houses and train tracks
and the coast, but what really makes them compelling to look at for
hours and hours is their fantastic and powerful color composition.
To learn to see is
a true gift. Jesus spoke: “Let those who have eyes to see, see; and
let those who have ears to hear, hear!”
God gave us all eyes
to see and ears to hear, and it is part of our plight as fallen children
of God that we so rarely use these great gifts to their fullest.
***
Today is Trinity
Sunday. The understanding of God as Trinity is a mystery that has been
pondered since the very earliest days of Christianity.
God is
Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Creator, Christ, Redeemer.
God is one, but not
only one; God is three, but there is only one God.
As you can already
see, many a confusing sermon has been preached on the Trinity!
But in a practical
sense, what does the triune nature of God mean in our lives?
God is dynamic, more
than just one thing at one time. God can create, God can bring forgiveness,
and God can infuse all things with God’s own Spiritual Presence.
And we are now into
the season of Pentecost, which is a good time to focus on God the Holy
Spirit.
In the Gospel of John,
Jesus proclaims that the Spirit will come to teach us. It will come
and open our eyes. All that Jesus
has, which has been received completely from God the Father, will be
fully revealed to us.
Jesus says: “[The Holy
Spirit] will take what is mine and declare it to you”
***
How do we understand
the nature of the Holy Spirit?
The spirit has many
things to bring faith, truth, love, understanding, Wisdom.
The Spirit is the part
of God that flows. It is like God’s blood—flowing, connecting and bringing
life.
The Spirit is also
that mysterious force that holds us together when we feel that things
are coming apart. Paul Tillich spoke of this special force as being
the “courage to be,” that keeps us going through life in a world that
challenges us deeply on an existential level.
Another image I would
offer is that of wires that carry current. You cannot see electricity,
but it is powerful.
Perhaps the best image
of all, which is also the most ancient image, is of the Spirit being
very much like air.
The air around us gives
us life in every breath, though we rarely stop and acknowledge this.
Air is almost completely
invisible, yet it is through the air between you an me that waves of
light are carried to my eyes, and I can see you. It is through the air
that sound waves are carried to our ears.
And this same air which
is often invisible to us can at times be stirred up into a forceful
wind, which is exactly the way that the Spirit at Pentecost was described!
Like air, the Spirit
is a quiet yet powerful force that literally surrounds us and brings
us life.
Jesus invites us to
open up our eyes and learn from the Spirit. It will open our eyes to
see the glory of God at work in the world.
And like a color poem,
God does not paint with merely one color. We do not have a monochrome,
black and white God. Like a single painter using the three primary colors,
God moves in three parts—in Technicolor.
As Father, Son and
Holy Spirit, God surpasses our imagination by creating, living among us, and ultimately
restoring our infinitely
colorful world.
In the name of the
true and living God—three in one and one in three—Amen.