One Sunday Morning

Preface

Sometimes, I return to complete paintings I previously thought finished. This column, as you will quickly see, is like that. I’ve come back to review an inkling of understanding in a new light, discovering a more profound truth that I began learning one Sunday morning many years ago.

The Story

I feel like I’ve been to church, but instead, I’ve come from the grocery store. My experience there left me feeling as if Jesus had washed my feet.

I do not know the name of the joyful woman sacking and loading groceries into my car for years now. So why don’t I know her name? 

She’s at least 60: a beautiful gray-haired, bright, more-than-cheerful grandmotherly woman. Her husband just dropped her name tag off on his way to church. Yet, despite her cheer, I can tell that she’s disappointed to be working on Sunday. So, again, I ask myself: why haven’t I read her name tag before? 

At the checkout counter ahead of me, she cleaned off a bottle of alcohol for another customer, then paused. She could have put it in the bag; the customer hadn’t noticed the leak. But I knew this employee wouldn’t let it go. So she politely excused herself and went to get another. This morning’s visit to the store is not the first time I’ve seen her perform a good deed.

I’ve watched this woman over months with ever-widening amazement at her courtesies. And I have chatted with her more and more. One day I told her that I appreciated her happy disposition. She merely remarked that she’s “a jolly person.” I suspect something deeper. 

Somehow, someway, Jesus has left his mark on this incredibly humble person. I don’t know why she works unless their retirement is not enough or possibly because she loves people and staying active. Perhaps a child of hers needs help. But the ways she performs this task speaks of a more profound commitment and the influence of love.

Her humble actions and delightful demeanor prompt me to ask myself: what tasks do I do out of duty or desire for significance? What do I do because He asks in that still small voice some call conscience? How do I perform them? Tender whispers of opportunity often go ignored, resulting in lost blessings for me and others. 

Da Vinci’s Last Supper (Public Domain Image)

Just before the Passover Feast, pictorially memorialized in Leonardo da Vinci’s “Last Supper,” Jesus washes the disciples’ feet, though not without objection at first from one of his closest friends, Peter. He’s one of the inner circle who witnessed Jesus’ transfiguration and would be with him during his night of agony in the garden. The great Renaissance artist depicted him with a knife, foreshadowing a characteristically impulsive moment in that garden. Though Peter proved to be clueless more than once, Jesus includes him at this intimate dinner party. And Da Vinci lets us into this dining room, setting up the portrayal of the gathered leader and closest followers with a sharp, one-point perspective that directs our attention to Christ’s head. The members of his disciples spring to life with portraits that include the soon-to-be betrayer, Judas, clutching a bag of coins–money already paid to him to identify Jesus later in the Garden of Gethsemane. Peter, holding the knife he would use to cut off a soldier’s ear, is next to Judas. Finally, Da Vinci places John (not Mary Magdalene as some presume) next to Jesus. 

Before this meal, as John tells us in his gospel, “before the Feast of Unleavened Bread,” Jesus asked his disciples, who called him both teacher and master: Lord/Adonai, to let him wash their feet–a common practice in that time.

Since I most identify with Peter, the stubborn, somewhat reckless disciple, I imagine that I would have objected, too. Picture your favorite teacher, mentor, employer, or friend bending down to wash your feet. I can’t help wondering if the disappearance of shoe fitting at most stores may have something to do with our embarrassment in having someone stoop low to serve us. But the grocery clerk did. Jesus did. And while commercial interactions, in general, have become fewer due to COVID and online shopping, I still meet these people. 

I did eventually learn her name. Thank you, Martha, for serving me; for teaching me.

C.S. Lewis said that “The load, or weight, or burden of my neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud be broken.” The Weight of Glory.

May we look for the glory of God, his imago Dei, in each other each day.


https://spiritofabilene.com/2022/04/09/one-sunday-morning/

Cause The Audience To...

A painting that I encountered at The Kimbell Art Museum in Fort Worth when I was teaching AP Art History gave me a new perspective on the power of art. And with it came a renewed sense of God’s care for me as an artist and art appreciator.

I’d seen this work in books and online, but nothing prepared me for the emotional experience that occurred when I saw it in person. So I approached it with the attitude of a partygoer glimpsing an acquaintance I’d once met, liked a lot, and hoped meet again for a more vibrant conversation. This meeting with a particular painting was like that.

There it was: Francis of Assisi in Ecstasy, 1594, by Caravaggio. And oh, my, what depth! I could see the background details, the brushstrokes, the mastery of the subtleties of light and shadow known as chiaroscuro and tenebrism. Known for far-ranging values of light and dark and dramatic lighting, this painting showcases Caravaggio’s genius. The intensity of emotion on the face of Francis, the tenderness of the angel, and the tricks employed by this great master suck you into the story he tells. 

Francis of Assisi in Ecstasy, 1594, by Caravaggio, public domain image

Perhaps you know this feeling from your own experiences with art, from hearing glorious music, from watching Olympic skaters perform a flawless routine, or from reading a passage in a book that takes your breath away. With the nuance the maker intended us to see, this work moved me to tears up close and in person! Like a good museum visitor, I walked away after a reasonable amount of time but got no more than a few feet before I had to return to see if the reaction repeated. It did! Now, where to hide until I could compose myself? I had students to check on.

From what I’ve read, viewed, and repeated in classes about this scrappy genius, he reflected his time and talent with rich colors and complex compositions. His entire body of work commands a deeper look. This particular painting requires a visit to The Wadsworth Atheneum Museum in Hartford, Connecticut, when not on tour elsewhere.

Two More Examples

Seeing Camelot at the old Dallas Music Hall in Fair Park starring Richard Burton changed how I look at actors. Sitting far from the front of the stage as a young teen, I learned that the word “gift,” as in a particular skill, in an actor sometimes means that the distance from actor to the audience contracts. David Hyde-Pierce reinforced this knowledge several decades later when in New York City with my husband, we enjoyed the immensity of his talent as he performed in Curtains. He, like Burton as King Arthur, seemed to perform the role of Lt. Frank Cioffi just for us. 

When you think of other artists: visual, musical, or literary: who or what works come to mind? What made them great? What did they give you, personally? What did they or could they cause you to do…or want to do better?

Each encounter with a great work of art, artist, speaker, writer, or friend, and indeed, mostly and particularly the Friend we meet in scripture and prayer, sets up the questions I posed. One of those critical questions comes from a Bible Study Fellowship method I learned years ago. This method lingers and informs my words, actions, and even my current writing and painting today. A summary of this method follows:

1.         Make a list of the themes, scenes, and events in the form of sentences.

2.         Group the sentences into paragraphs, noting the connecting verses.

3.         Create a short summative sentence.

4.         Ask yourself the aim of the passage and answer what you want to Cause the Audience To... (hopefully in ten words or less)

5.         Apply what you have learned by asking three to five key questions.

The CAT part sticks with me most profoundly. What do I want my readers to gain?

My CAT for you today: Examine your responses to various works to facilitate growth in grace. 

And finally, some application questions: What is the focal point, the vital message or perspective of the works I see on Instagram, in museums, books, or on the stage? What kind of experiences cause me to live more graciously? Most importantly, how do I want to change as a result? What can I deliver to help others (and myself) grasp the grace in God’s direction and care?

–With gratitude, again, to Kathy Strong for wise editorial advice.

https://spiritofabilene.com/2022/01/28/cause-the-audience-to/

Cheryl's Maizie

For my childhood friend, Cheryl Starnes Pearce, I present her beloved dog, Maizie. While studying one of the images Cheryl supplied to me I was moved, almost to tears, when I realized the dog had eyes that reminded me of her!

Coming Home: A Year of Covid and Cancer

The world is chaotic and we cannot depend on our circumstances to remain as we wish or to improve as we desire. We can, however, trust the One who created us through a spark of life. He will lead us through streams both smooth and scary, and He will carry us home again. We matter to Him and to others. Our lives have value. But we are not in control.  

—With a grateful shout-out to Jodi Picoult and Skye Jethani

What is Art?


Recently I had the privilege of meeting some fellow writers for the first time. In my impromptu remarks at our small gathering, I mangled a concept from the English crime writer and poet Dorothy Sayers. I want to set that straight (assuming you are reading) because the impact of her idea carries tremendous value for artists of all persuasions. Dorothy Sayers suggests that the trinity has an application for creative people. It also helps us answer the age-old question, “What is art?” I will get to a fuller explanation. 

But first, a bit more about Dorothy Sayers, 1893-1957. In addition to her crime writing and poetry, she found time to write plays and essays, study classical and modern languages, and translate Dante’s Divine Comedy into English. Perhaps she is best known to Americans as the author of the Lord Peter Whimsy stories, but it is her Christian work, The Mind of the Maker, that delights and encourages me. 

Dorothy Sayers’s model for the “cycle of creativity” takes into consideration the fact that we are made in God’s image. I find it instructive on multiple levels. Diagrammed as she presents it: God/Idea, Son/Expression, Spirit/Recognition we see the trinity with creative activity reflected. If a person expresses an idea in visual, musical, dance, or theatrical form and is received and recognized as Art, it must be Art. Yes?  Or no? I believe the answer is “yes.”     

Here is my illustration of her concept. Whether you are a Christian triune-God-believing person or not, I think you will find it helpful in understanding how God, creators, and viewers/readers interact.

                         

Russian writer and possibly Christian Leo Tolstoy answers this question in his aptly named What is Art?, written in 1897. From what I gather, he believes it is a shared experience that promotes unity. I’ve yet to make it through the short book, for him, a volume that runs just over two hundred pages. But in searching, I found this helpful with my thesis. 

 

Every work of art caused the receiver to enter into a certain kind of relationship both with him who produced, or is producing, the art, and with those who, simultaneously, previously, or subsequently, receive the same artistic impression.

 

Aha. Two great minds, Sayers and Tolstoy, agree. When writers, painters, dancers, and others pass along a “state of mind…to others,” we make a connection. And wow, do we know about the loss of connection this past year! We treasure connections of all kinds now.

 

Many years ago, my daughter and sister and I visited a popular Houston exhibition. We knew from fliers and posts that we should expect a fantastic experience. When our trio emerged from the venue, we could not contain our wry smiles. Okay, giggles. I captured theirs with my camera and later created a collage of the photo with wonky, ransom note style lettering asking our question of the moment. I use this artwork in teaching my students that they possess the right to decide against the dictates of a glossy poster or fevered pitches from friends. You even get to determine if this essay is Art with a capital A. If you receive nothing from it, it’s not Art to you, but maybe to someone else. 

 

In conversation with some of my creative buddies, I learned that they agree with a corollary principle: that all art that Christians produce is Christian Art. 

 

These friends and I enjoy marvelous talks about our creative lives. We’ve read many of the same books, such as Francis Schaeffer’s Art & the Bible and H.R. Rookmaaker’s Art Needs No Justification. I’ll bet they also have The Christian, The Arts, and Truth, too, a book by Frank Gaebelein–all great reads for Christians in the arts. In Gaebelein’s chapter “The Bible and the Christian Writer,” he encourages us not to forget “the scriptural principle of hard work resulting in the achievement of excellence to the glory of God.” Rookmaker reminds creative people that our work is “to add to the world God gave us to develop, to beautify...(to add to) the lives of many, loving our neighbors. We repeat that promise each time we take communion for it is the parallel statement to “do this in remembrance of me.” See Luke 22:19. As a reflection of that command, a recognition, if you will, we are to love one another. I created a triptych that expresses this for Holy Week a while back. 

 

Schaeffer helped my friends and me understand that our “world view usually does show through.” So whenever we make art, talk about art, or show others how to create art, we act as Christian artists. Creative work extends from the life within us. His life.

 

In my thirties, while studying Exodus, I began to drink in the story of two creative people discussed in the 31st chapter. Their unusual names and the place of honor given them for their contributions to the world helped drive the permission I still cherish for spending time on artistic expressions. 

 

Then the Lord said to Moses, 2 “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, 3 and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— 4 to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, 5 to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts.6 Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also, I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you: (NIV)

 

I especially like the phrases “I have chosen,” “I have filled,” and “I have given.” This desire to take an idea, express it, and share it with our neighbors who will hopefully recognize and respond to it comes from God! 

 

From the online dictionary, art is “the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination, typically in a visual form such as painting or sculpture, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.”

 

Notice the word “appreciate.” That, too, matches the “recognition” corner of the picture Sayers provided.

 

Last night my husband, Larry, and I visited The Grace Museum taking advantage of their late hours of operation on Thursdays. We’d just come from a relative’s bedside at the hospital. A miracle had occurred in her body, bringing her back from a long week of intensive care. God used gifted doctors, nurses, and aides to assist her recovery, so we were already on another emotional plane when we entered the first-floor gallery. We were hungry for food, but as Larry noted, we needed a different kind of nourishment first. And we found it in the beautiful expressions of Sherry Owens’ “Promise Me the Earth.” Granted, I’ve always loved art made with recycled elements, but her repurposed crepe myrtle scraps displayed before our eyes after a harsh winter that killed most of our rugged, beautiful flowering trees impressed me a lot. The exhibition whispered a lovely “Amen” after the hard week we’d endured. Sherry, we recognized and received your message!

 

So I invite you to visit the new exhibitions at The Grace Museum, The Center for Contemporary Arts, and the National Center for Children’s Illustrated Literature. The curators, receptionists, educators, and administrators have missed you greatly. So have the staff of movie theatres, music halls, and booksellers and sharers. Make time and effort to attend and support the arts and drink in your part of the creative experience by recognizing, receiving, and responding to the stimuli that others have labored to share. Besides, you get to decide: Is it Art? 

Those Were the Days

I learned a new abbreviation last fall when classes at Hardin-Simmons were held synchronously in the classrooms and via Zoom or simply F2F: Face to Face. 

For ages, face-to-face teaching was the standard way of delivering instruction to prekindergarten age children through graduate school adults. But lately, brick and mortar classroom learning has succumbed to instruction via bits per second of internet bandwidth in many places. I hope I've stated that correctly. It's hard to understand what you cannot fully see! 

I took some of my AP Art History training in this manner. I was in Texas. The teacher-led our workshop from Vienna, Virginia. And it was intriguing as people from who knows where jumped in and out of chat rooms–those little sidebars that can distract those of us over a certain age. Occasionally, I saw names flash by, or I saw the face of our teacher who employed some excellent skills at keeping the flow of information interesting. But it was nothing compared with the AP Institute led by Doug Derracot in Dallas, where we not only sat in a room and discussed one art movement after another, but we took field trips to museums and sacred spaces. Yes, there was lots of "art in the dark," a necessary part of this discipline as everyone knows from seeing the film "Mona Lisa Smiles" with Julia Roberts in the lead. But interacting with live humans, with unmasked faces, less than six feet apart and without fear of a deadly disease, wow: those were the days. My moving memory of that experience with Doug and many teachers, like a favorite film, rolls through my mind. I'm betting that some of you watch movies from 2019 and earlier, partly for the crowd scenes. Or reruns of sporting events with real people in the stands, not cardboard cutouts. Again, those were the days.

In 1968 Gene Raskin wrote English lyrics to a Russian melody by Boris Fomin, a song called "Those Were the Days." It is one of the tunes that float in from my preteen years. Though it describes a tavern, a place entirely inappropriate for me at the time, its lilting melody and longing for a time when "we'd live the life we choose, we'd fight and never lose" fits this time when we, too, must fight to get back the life we choose.1“Let us not neglect to gather together,” Hebrews 10:25, commands us. I think the ancient writer pictured that gathering occurring in an actual room.

So when my HSU students, all twenty of them, arrived in the studio on their appointed day, approximately half on Tuesday and a half on Thursday, I all but applauded them for coming to class. I heard myself say things like: "Thank you for coming to class." How ridiculous that would have sounded a year earlier. Now, if only I knew that brown-haired girl from the one next to her. Does Bella have a pink mask, or is that Bettina? Thankfully, a couple of the young women had their first names embellishing one side of their masks, undoubtedly a gift from thoughtful parents. 

Recently, I stood in line at the Round Building of the Taylor County Fairgrounds to receive my first shot of the Covid vaccine. I'm just old enough to qualify for the 1b group, the second of many groups to come. My hair color matched most of the others in the line. I was masked, and so were they. I probably knew at least a dozen of my co-vaccinees, but I only recognized two who were in a booth right across from mine where a man in a blue uniform administered the powerful life-saving medicine. He wore an American flag mask over his face. We were F2F but not wholly. I'd never know him on the street.

So now we are trusting people we could not assuredly pick out of a line-up–perfect strangers to help save us from this deadly plague. It's so weird. I miss faces.

And that's a good thing. God made us for community. There are an even 100 verses attesting to this here: https://www.openbible.info/topics/fellowship

Psalm 55:14 in the English Standard Version particularly caught my attention. "We used to take sweet counsel together; within God's house, we walked in the throng."

According to my online dictionary, a throng is a large, densely packed crowd of people or animals. I sure miss walking in throngs. Throngs of almost any kind: church gatherings, classrooms, family celebrations, birthday parties…especially throngs without a screen and often many miles between us. We were made for community. I think this meditation sparked a recent dream in which I saw a very dear friend in a crowd, and the next moment she was gone. I miss proximity. 

Community sharing often involves hospitality. I Peter 4:9 ESV commands us to show hospitality to one another without grumbling. Vacuuming this morning, I thought, "there's less to clean and less motivation to clean. How I long for a table full of people and even the crumbs they leave behind."

It's hard to share life via the computer. Sure, Zoom, FaceTime, Google docs, Dropbox, and the like are helpful. But gathering around a table, a picture of covenant: breaking bread together, is missing. And our hearts are in danger of becoming walled off as a result.  

Evidently, I’m not the only person thinking about this. Amanda Mull writing for Atlantic Magazine, January 27, 2021, has a story that headlines with “The Pandemic Has Erased Entire Categories of Friendship: There’s a reason you miss the people you didn’t even know that well.” She presents the concept that not just our inner circles of friendship matter, but the outer rings, too. These “weak ties” or people with whom you have a nodding acquaintance are important to our well-being, too. The article is well-researched and I highly recommend it for its warning of the dangers of isolation and sticking in our own friendship bubbles too much. And for this: “Humans are meant to be with one another, and when we aren’t, the decay shows in our bodies.” 2 I hear an echo of Scripture in that. Amen. 

Redeeming the Time

Ephesians 5:15-16 says “Be very careful, then, how you live--not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil. (NIV) The NKJ versions translates “make the most of every opportunity” as “redeeming the time.” 

Colossians 4:5 says “Be wise in the way you act toward outsiders; make the most of every opportunity.” Again, redeeming the time.

Titus 3:8 again stresses the importance of those who trust in God spending time doing “what is good. These things are excellent and profitable for everyone.” 

So how can we “redeem the time” when time stands still or slows? What do we do when the world, not just our lives, becomes upended during a pandemic? What do/did we do in Covid Time? And how will we remember this era of our lives? 

Will we recall the empty store shelves lacking toilet paper or disinfecting wipes? Maybe our favorite brand and type of chocolate was temporarily out of stock and it led us to grab at least three bars the next time we visited our store or better yet, ordered online. Most of us went online shopping a lot. According to bigcommerce.com: “Over 75% of people are shopping at least once a month online.”

Will we remember most the people who got sick? The ones we lost, for sure. And the dread, the fear of losing another or getting very sick ourselves. Will we remember how we spent our days?

Many people I know still go to real offices or teach students face to face. Their lives have not changed as much as many of us who have been forced to, and thankfully can work from home. But on the weekends, they deal with the world much like those who are secluded at home most of the time.

Before Thanksgiving, I taught art face to face and via Zoom to preservice elementary education majors, twenty of them, in the fall of 2020. I will remember their masked faces, ten at a time showing up to Studio 214 at Hardin-Simmons University and to distanced tours of The Grace and The NCCIL. Three of them broke down in front of me. It was all too much. I tried to reassure them and others because many, if not all these students struggled to soldier through the weirdest semester of our lives. I applaud them for finishing this class by completing a final via Zoom from their homes or cars. During this final online class I held up a reproduction of Winslow Homer’s “The Country School” for them to analyze using Feldman’s Model of Art Criticism. Their reactions to the artwork were as varied as their responses to the school year they had just endured. Some thought the teacher in the painting looked kind. Another thought she looked harsh and scolding. We are individuals, after all, even as we share a common foe, this virus. I found this reassuring. We were not reduced to Covid rubble. 

I heard stories from another professor who had a student show up to a class while shopping at Walmart. Yep, it couldn’t have gotten much weirder. So, beyond work, childcare, senior care and attempts at normality by attending church online or distanced and masked until that had to end, what did we do to win back the time that seemed lost to sadness, fear, and disappointment–to make it good and valuable? I decided to ask some friends of varying ages.

I sent out a grid with three questions: What was hard? What did you gain? And what helped you?

Concern for isolated elders, children, and students who were missing learning and social opportunities came from several women. One reported feeling guilty that her life went on normally…until she contracted the virus. Missing family vacations, holidays, and births along with tension to keep spaces disinfected concerned one enough to write it down. I know many would chime in on that. Loss of jobs and the inability to spread the ashes of a mom added misery to one far from her birthplace. But what was gained seemed to balance out the loss or difficulties. These responses included recognition of idols and a desire to remove them. Many gained ground through Bible studies, podcasts, and virtual services. Increased confidence in God’s faithfulness and conversational prayer with the Great Physician through a slowed season produced wins for others. Daily Mass fit better for one in a normally too-crowded schedule. Many acquired an appreciation of technology for use in having online meetings and visiting virtual art shows. Some got to know neighbors. Time in nature secured tranquility. And another one noted that she’d learned better to live “in God’s time.” Two even noted they’d gained kittens! As for what helped…declaring “Hosanna” sent fear skittering for one saint. Saying a handmade rosary helped another. Exercise, friends checking in, creative and musical pleasures plus lots of leaning into scriptures like “Be still and know that I am God”-Psalm 46:10and singing songs like “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus” renewed and lifted many. Praying the Serenity Prayer proved a plus, too.

The holidays were lonesome for my husband and me, but we found joy in a kitten we call Eddie. We like playing ping pong and he likes chasing a spare ball. Coincidentally, we remembered that we know how to play cat ping pong, a very specialized form of the game. In this version, you must pick a stance and lunge to make your shots without lifting and planting your feet on a furry feline. 

And with classes concluded, I had to find more ways to redeem the gift of free time, something I sometimes fear. The time I valued with students now pivots to friends who offer new prayer groups and Bible studies. I renewed my friendships with a drawing group that has met in person and via Zoom for some time now in the spring and summer. And I finally made bread. Yes, you Covid bread makers, I’ve finally joined your ranks. Craving a fresh loaf of French, I googled and found a great recipe that includes a quick dash of ice cubes in the oven to create that crispy crust we bread and butter fans love. So I had a Zoom day with praying women and artists, and a baking day: two loaves of French and an unsatisfactory batch of zucchini bread. Not to worry, Amy at Hickory Street Cafe: yours is still the best. I threw my recipe away. 

And there is always painting, reading and writing, and thankfully, some editing and researching for the effervescent Bill Wright. We will get through this. Blessings now on the vaccine scientists, manufacturers, distributors, and healthcare workers who encourage our hope. Thanks be to God for what he is teaching us in the meantime as we work to redeem the time.

 

 

 

 

The Importance of Being Honest

Oscar Wilde satirized Victorian behavior in his comedy, The Importance of Being Earnest. The chief character, Ernest, who is only Ernest in the city and known as Jack in the country, is obviously neither earnest nor serious. Ditto for the play. Though it is a delight.

 

Reading J.D. Vance’s article, “How I joined the Resistance” in Lamp Magazine, I thought of this play and think that Christians need to take an earnest look at honesty. 

 

I generally agree with Vance that our society in a post-Christian culture despises “a faith centered around a Christ who demands perfection of us even as He loves unconditionally and forgives easily.” 1 In the New Testament, Paul asks the Corinthian church to “aim for perfection.” And in Hebrews (another missive possibly by Paul) we know that we are not the author nor the perfecter of our faith; Jesus is.3 So while we strive for honesty and a host of other virtues, we cannot accomplish it on our own.

 

Vance goes on to admit that he “needed to pray more, to participate in the sacramental life of the Church, to confess and repent publicly, no matter how awkward that might be. And I needed grace,” he said. This…on his way to becoming Catholic.

 

I am not Catholic, though the Lord knows I have been heavily influenced by neighbors and friends who do practice this form of Christianity. I admire their commitment to practices and discipline and their sometimes raucous enjoyment of parties whether they are birthdays or funerals. Joyful people, most of the ones I know like to dance! 

 

I get where J.D. comes from because I’ve read his best-selling book, a biography, Hillbilly Elegy. Some of you have by read it and seen the movie, too. But mostly, I get where he’s gotten. He’s gotten the importance of being honest about his sin, and he’s earnestly in need of redemptive grace.

 

As contemporary society gives us alternatives to a vibrant, childlike faith, even a cynical “numbness toward life,” through a myriad of options easily available even in COVID-19 quarantine, we have the opportunity to choose to be honest.2

 

I pray that we, the Church, will commit to becoming more honest with God, with ourselves, and those closest so that we might daily repent and renew our hearts and minds, embracing forgiveness of sin and restoration. Christmastime provides a good season for starting. 

1 J.D. Vance in The Lamp Magazine, “How I Joined the Resistance,” 2020. https://thelampmagazine.com/2020/04/01/how-i-joined-the-resistance/

2. A Praying Life, chapter 9

3. I Corinthians 13:11 and Hebrews 12:2

 

 

 

A Rosary for Reformed People

My friend Susan Englerth reminds me of the Proverbs 31 woman, she who is referred to as “The Wife of Noble Character” in the Old Testament. For evidence I offer that her husband adores her; we can see that. She is strong and trades profitably. Ask her about a certain sailboat deal! And I have no doubt that she cares well for her family. She is clothed with strength and dignity. And she speaks with wisdom and faithful instruction. One of her wise instructions, given as a suggestion, hit me as very profitable: saying the Rosary. Her description of this practice included her report of waking with the beads in hand, imprinted on her arm. I told her: “I want that.” I was trying to say that I want that nearness to God that she suggested in her ritual. But I’m not Catholic! What’s a reformed Presbyterian woman attending a non-denominational church going to do? Google it, of course.

 

Aha! I found that there are lots of reformed versions of rosaries out there. Being prone to write, to create with my hands, and to teach, I had to first learn how to make my own by studying those of others. 

 

Now, ten days after Susan spoke life to me through her description of a tangible practice of devotion, I can report that I am well…or at least better than I was the night at dance class when she offered me this gift. I have a practice and an actual handmade rosary from objects and materials that I treasure. Thanks, friend. 

 

What follows is my most recent version of a rosary based on my current needs. It will change over time as one season or experience of life follows another. This particular iteration is for sorrowing people. I am happy to send the template to anyone who asks. 

 

All photos are mine, and if you recognize the Tiffany window from the Met in New York, I’d like to award you extra credit. I’ll always be an art teacher at heart. The song was written after reading a chapter in a book a dear friend lent me knowing I needed this truth.

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Holy Week Exhibition

Come during lunchtime starting Monday and concluding Friday or drop in to a service this Sunday or on Easter to see this multi-generational artist exhibition chronicling the events of Holy Week.

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Stones of Help: A Record of God's Faithfulness

Have you ever wished for a way to quickly look back at the bright spots or blessings in your life? Stones of Help: A Record of God’s Faithfulness gives you month-by-month, day-by-day blank writing spaces to jot those moments of insight and never-to-be-forgotten glimpses of heaven in daily life. Record anniversaries, birthdays, vacation highlights and simple delights in this little book of personal treasures. Pictures of actual stones and bits of encouraging text round out this inspiring journal.

Purchase it here: http://www.blurb.com/b/8899357-stones-of-help

Purchase it here: http://www.blurb.com/b/8899357-stones-of-help

Learn to Draw with This Kit

 

This art kit will enable any aspiring artist age seven and older to learn the fundamentals of drawing.

The 16-page booklet includes nine simple projects, a glossary, and a resource guide. The kit also features a clipboard attached to a slim plastic case that holds a #2 pencil, a metal sharpener, a white stick eraser, a Sketch N Wash pencil, an Aqua Flo brush, a shader, and an Ultra Fine Sharpie marker. 

I've summarized all of the best information that I have learned and added my favorite tools in the plastic case compartment. The kit makes drawing portable and fun! 

Contact me here for pricing and additional information: keystonearted@gmail.com. The kits are $40 each with a discount of $5 for one dozen or more.

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The tools: AquaFlo brush, #2 pencil, shader, thin Sharpie, stick eraser, pencil sharpener, and a Sketch N Wash pencil

The tools: AquaFlo brush, #2 pencil, shader, thin Sharpie, stick eraser, pencil sharpener, and a Sketch N Wash pencil

Painted Memories

Send me your photos, and I'll paint them in oil on canvas - ready to hang! mariannewoodart@gmail.com

Advent House Coloring Poster

This 18" X 24" coloring poster on foam core comes ready to frame. A guide to the symbols ships with the poster for $50 + tax and shipping. 

This 18" X 24" coloring poster on foam core comes ready to frame. A guide to the symbols ships with the poster for $50 + tax and shipping. 

This 18" X 24" coloring poster on foam core comes ready to frame. A guide to the symbols ships with the poster for $50 + tax and shipping. 

Timber Talks: The Truth about Stuff from Timber the Cat

Here I am asking to be let inside the house. I feel a thunderstorm coming on!

Here I am asking to be let inside the house. I feel a thunderstorm coming on!

Timber Talks: The Truth about Stuff from Timber the Cat as told to Marianne and Larry Wood is a story about a cherished feline who lived to be 19 years old. In this short story of her long life she dishes out the wit and wisdom that comes from living outdoors - most of the time, enduring hailstorms and the havoc wrecked upon kitties who dare amble past a mockingbird's nest. She shares her opinions on those things and much more including what she thinks of staying a weekend at the Kitty Hilton.


Recorded as a tribute to a great furry friend, Timber shares in about 18 minutes all that is important to outdoor cats. She includes a glossary: "Timber Lingo," and of course, a photo album.

$25 + shipping