The title For As The Law Came Through is a reference to the Gospel of John, chapter 1, verse 17: “For as the Law came through Moses, truth and grace came through Jesus Christ.”
One of the most common configurations among traditional Christian icons of Jesus is what is known as ‘Christ Pantocrator.’ It is meant to depict Jesus post-resurrection, as sovereign ruler of the cosmos. In his left hand, he cradles an ornamented Bible. His right hand is raised and in a pose that meant to convey blessing.
In this painting, the right hand is no longer bestowing blessing, and instead is displaying a second Bible. The two Bibles positioned side by side bring to mind the two stone tablets on which the Ten Commandments were written. The implication is that within some manifestations of Christianity, it is the Law, not grace and truth that came through Jesus.
For As The Law Came Through • acrylic on canvas • 40 x 30 inches • 2024
This painting draws on several traditions from the history of Christian imagery.
1. The Cross on which Jesus was crucified was referred to as a tree within Scripture itself [Acts 5.30, 10.39, 13.29 and 1 Peter 2.24]. This was picked up in an Old English poem called “The Dream of the Rood,” which imagines the Cross describing its experience of bearing the body of Jesus at his crucifixion.
2. A tradition that viewed the Crucifixion as the event that initiated the process of banishing death and decay, and restoring the world to its original state of goodness at the creation. The tree of the Cross reverses the effect of what happened at the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
3. The hovering angels who are witnessing the scene and Adam’s skull at the foot of the Cross were common in many paintings and altarpieces.
Christ Hanging • acrylic on canvas • 40 x 30 inches • 2024
This painting was made inside the experience of the COVID lockdown. The imagery is based on a novella, The Metamorphosis, written by Franz Kafka and published in 1915. It tells the story of a young man who works as a traveling salesman while still living with his parents in their apartment. He wakes one morning to find that his body has changed into the body of a large beetle. Needless to say he finds this to be alarming. How would he dress and get to work? What would his parents think? The routine and confined life that he knew previously had just been unexplainably intensified by many degrees. He locks himself in his room as he struggles in isolation to find a way forward, to somehow return to the previous normality of his life. This unanticipated crisis exposes all the hidden insecurities, anxieties, and contradictions of his life.
One day you awaken and your world seems irreparably changed and beyond your control. This was the experience of us all during the pandemic.
Coronamorphosis • acrylic on canvas • 30 x 24 inches
My Ways And Your Ways • acrylic on canvas • 40 x 30 inches
A new art project finished and installed in our sanctuary for Lent. AH POOR JESUS is comprised of twelve 16 x 20 inch panels affixed together. Each panel is based on an historical depiction of Christ — from the 12th to the 20th century. Each panel is also inscribed with a text from the Christian Scriptures.
Eight of the texts are from the Psalms, three from Isaiah and one from the Gospel of Luke. There are multiple instances in the Gospels and in Paul where the writer places the words of the Psalmist into the mouth of Jesus. Descriptors of the Suffering Servant were also applied to Jesus in his suffering. This was part of the understanding of the early Christians that Jesus was the fulfillment of traditional messianic expectations.
Note that only four of these images are taken from crucifixion paintings or altarpieces — the remainder are either pre- or post-crucifixion. This is an attempt to recognize the lifelong struggle and suffering involved in the condescension of Jesus to take on human: as in Philippians 2:7 “but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant or slave.”
Below is a listing of the source for each panel and their accompanying text,
from top to bottom and left to right:
SAN DAMIANO • Italy • 12th century
Isaiah 49.04 • I have exhausted myself for nothing
PIERRO DELLA FRANCESCA • Italy • 15th century
Psalm 31.10 • for my life is worn out with sorrows
SICILY • Italy • 12th century
Psalm 22.16 • a gang of villains encircles me
CARLO CRIVELLI • Italy • 15th century
Luke 9.58 • no place to lay his head
WARNER SALLMAN • United States • 20th century
Psalm 69.9 • zeal for your house has consumed me
KARL SCHMIDT-ROTTLUFF • Germany • 20th century
Psalm 22.07 • despised by men and the contempt of the people
MICHELANGELO CARAVAGGIO • Italy • 17th century
Psalm 88.18 • darkness is my closest friend
GEORGE ROUAULT • France • 20th century
Psalm 69.19 • my shame and disgrace are past cure
MATTHIAS GRUNEWALD • Germany• 16th century
Psalm 22.15 • my heart is like melted wax
SAN MARCO • Italy
Isaiah 53.08 • he was cut off from the land of the living
CATALAN • Spain • 12th century
Isaiah 53.08 • they made his grave with the wicked
COPPO DI MARCOVALDO • Italy • 13th century
Psalm 42.08 • all your breakers and waves surged over me
“Exceeding sorrowful” are the words from the King James version of the Bible used to describe the emotional state of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane as he confronted the trials and suffering that lay ahead of him. He has just finished partaking in the “the Last Supper,” the Jewish Passover meal celebrating the release of the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt. During this meal with the twelve disciples — the intimate companions who had journeyed with Jesus over the last three years — he announces that one of them will betray him. He tells them that, like the wine of the Passover cup, his blood will be poured out. And that, like the Passover bread, his body will be broken. This meal and time together contained more trauma than celebration.
Then Jesus tells the disciples that he will be “struck down” and that they will all desert him. One by one they protest and declare they would sooner endure prison or even death, rather than disown Jesus.
Jesus then withdraws to the Garden of Gethsemane and takes Peter, James, and John with him — the same three disciples who accompanied him during the Transfiguration. Why does Jesus take any of his disciples with him as he goes off to pray?
One possible answer: there is an affinity to Jesus’ care for his disciples when Jesus interrupted his conversation with Moses and Elijah during the Transfiguration to bend down to his disciples to calm their fears. He has just heard their protestations that even at the risk of prison or death they will not desert him. And yet he knows that though their spirits may be willing, their flesh is indeed weak, and they will fall away and scatter.
Jesus asks the disciples to wait and pray as he goes off to pray alone. This is a relatively simple task compared to the drama and trauma they are about to experience. But they are overcome with sleep and fail to do what Jesus requested. In an indirect way, Jesus is making plain to them how their willing spirits will be overcome by the weakness of their flesh. At the same time, he shows his acceptance of this weakness. He recognizes their “exhaustion from sorrow” (Mark 14.40). Even in the anguish of his utter aloneness, Jesus’ words to them are an encouragement to persevere in prayer.
This painting suggests that the anguish Jesus experienced at Gethsemane was not just about confronting the suffering he was about to endure. It was also about the betrayal and deep isolation he now faced. Jesus was the Good Shepherd who was struck down and lost his sheep [Matthew 26.31: “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.” quoting Zechariah 7.13].
The head of Christ is based on a crucifix by Coppo di Marcovaldo [Italian c. 1250]. The figures of Peter, James, and John are based on an icon by Feofan Grek [15th century].
[ acrylic on canvas, 36 x 24 inches, 2023 ]
Beneath Christ’s feet are the broken doors of hell which he destroyed so he could “preach to the spirits in prison” [1 Peter 3:18]. In the Orthodox tradition, this event signals the resurrection of all humanity effected by Christ’s obedience.
[ acrylic on canvas, 48 x 24 inches, 2022 ]
Blue Christ Waiting Behind the Towels is the latest in my Blue Christ series. Taking clues from my recent reading in sacramental theology, this series attempts to explore presentations of the abiding, immanent, enduring presence of Christ in all creation. This we can happily assent to if this places Christ in the splendid beauty and order of the natural world.
However, we seem to be less able to imagine Christ as present and effective in our own immediate lived environments. We are more comfortable with Christ and the whole realm of heaven as being other-worldly — beyond our active engagement. We instead prefer to fashion our own mediating objects — devices, images, and processes to engage our attention.
I think it a most valuable practice to develop ways of imaging the presence of Christ as utterly and lovingly immanent — immediate [without mediation] to our living situations and the face of the other.
[ acrylic on canvas, 24 x 36 inches, 2021 ]
Healthy woodlands are not only necessary for environmental sustainability. They are also vital for sustaining the emotional and spiritual health of — and relationships among — the human inhabitants of this world.
The forest image is based on a photo taken in Scout Valley. The names in the painting are from my own family tree.
Religious icons used as devotional objects can have an oversized impact. Though they are not “the real thing,” their presence can be helpful as reminders of spiritual realities and truths not viscerally present. St Francis of Assisi received a powerful vision about rebuilding the Church when he prayed in front of the crucifix in the Chapel of San Damiano. Our app-filled phones often seem to me like contemporary versions of traditional icons and relics, invoking the presence of absent or distant spiritual realities.
[ acrylic on canvas, 22 x 28 inches, 2020
[ acrylic on canvas, 28 x 22 inches, 2020 ]