Isaiah 50.4-9a: Listening to God

Morning by morning God wakens-- wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious... (Isaiah 50:4b-5a) In the Psalter reading for The Liturgy of the Passion, the psalmist announces that the "whispering of many" is heard. The emphasis on ears and hearing in these two passages are good reminders that it is important that we listen to God and stand with God. It is the Lord God who helps me, Isaiah concludes. Who will declare me guilty?

One of the ways that artists have shown that voice of God is through a dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit, whispering into the ear of prophets or gospel writers or, here, David as he writes the psalms. The dove, a soft-feathered creature, is also the symbol of hope and promise in the story of Noah. It was the dove who returned to the ark with an olive twig in its beak. It is also a symbol of peace. 

That's not exactly the feel of this dove. The giant bird (compare the size of the bird to the width of David's shoulders) is balanced on one foot on David's crown. The other leg and foot are thrown out for balance. The bird's beak appears to be in David's ear, not just directing words toward the ear in hopes that David will hear. The bird is literally speaking into David's ear as he composes the psalms. 

St. Albans Psalter. 12th century. Dombibliothek Hildesheim.

This particular illumination is the frontispiece for the psalms in the St. Albans manuscript. The text is the beginning of Psalm 1: BEATUS VIR (Blessed is the man). Remember that on the day Jesus enters into Jerusalem, there were cries of "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!" David and Jesus listened to God. Not for David in this illustration nor for Jesus in the gospels does listening look like the pleasant experience we might expect it to be. And yet, listening to God is what we are charged to do, remembering that it is the Lord God who helps me. That makes us blessed regardless of the size of the bird or the pain of the cross. 

Look on page 56 of the St. Albans Psalter digital facsimile here for a second version of David being inspired as a musician. 

Matthew 21. 33-46: The Son of the Vineyard Owner

Jesus' parable in Matthew 21 (verses 33-46) tells his own story. Set in a vineyard, the son of the vineyard owner is killed by wicked tenants who are unwilling to give the owner the portion of the harvest that is owed. It doesn't take much to understand the story as a prediction of Jesus' fate. Below is an unidentified image (I'm still trying to identify it) from a medieval manuscript that illustrates the story. 

            

(Left) Unidentified manuscript illustration of Matthew 21:33-46. (Right) Christus in der Kelter. Gebetbuch des Ulrich von Montfort. c. 1515-1520. Vienna: Osterreichische Nationalbibliothek, cod. 2748, fol. 49v.

It also doesn't take much to understand the implications of the vineyard and Christ's relation to it as a Communion symbol. 

One of the symbolic images for the death of Jesus is the winepress. In those images (above right) Jesus is shown trampling grapes while bearing the weight of the winepress. The implication is that the crushing and juicing of grapes offers a parallel to Jesus' death and subsequent remembrance in the cup of communion. There are other vineyard images that should bring to mind the role and actions of Jesus' life and death. 

In the two images here, the wine press is the screw type that applies pressure from above in order to crush the grapes. In the parable illustration you can see the winepress through the open door of the watchtower. In the illustration with Jesus, he treads on the grapes even as the winepress crushes him. Note that it is the first person of the Trinity who turns, powers, the screw that presses on Jesus. Isaiah 63 and Revelation 14 both refer to the winepress with a tone of punishment or retribution. Here, though, it is not retribution that Christ models, but sacrifice, giving himself to death at the hands of the tenants or the winepress.

In regions that have no winemaking tradition, these images might be harder to understand. And, of course, the artists from these regions depict the equipment they saw in their own winemaking industries, and they make Jesus look like themselves. 

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook...red or white?

Jeremiah 8.18 - 9.1: Wounds

Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician? God's people are inBlogger: Art & Faith Matters - Overview stats need of healing, but none seems to be found. (Jeremiah 8:18-9:1) Having just these verses of scripture - no context other than the word "slain" - I wondered about the extent of the wounds. Could they be cured with a balm? Did  the physician need to be in general practice or a surgeon? How else does scripture talk about wounds? Isaiah's suffering servant is wounded for our transgressions. The man beaten by robbers has his wounds bound up and cared for by the good Samaritan.

Probably the most recognizable are the wounds of Christ and within that broad story, the images of Thomas regarding the wound in Jesus' side is among the most common. Caravaggio's version above is typical. In Caravaggio's depiction, Thomas does actually put his finger into the wound in Jesus' side. The wound itself became the object of regard and an avenue to closeness with Jesus as early Christians claimed Thomas' privilege for themselves. They sought to touch the wounds of Jesus. The sought to be on the same intimate terms with Jesus as were the disciples.

As the wound grew in popularity as an object of devotion, it was inserted into a mandorla (an almond-shaped frame) and depicted on jewelry and tombs and fonts as well as in medieval manuscripts. Christ's wounds were celebrated, reminding the faithful that Christ had indeed been embodied on this year. But no earthly, medicinal balm could cure those wounds. In fact, the wounds were the balm that could cure the ills of the world.

But the ills of the world remain.

Mark Rothko's paintings are among those most open to interpretation (just ask my high school students!). There seems to be no subject matter implied or specified by the painting. No trees or houses. No portraits. No words or symbols. It's just color. Blocks of color. And yet.

Rothko, though not associated with a particular school or movement, painted in the time following two world wars when a  number of artists moved away from identifiable subject matter. Rather than replicating reality, those artists used their work to ask bigger questions about humanity, about what it means to be human, about how we find meaning in this world.

I'm sure it is helped along by the color reference of reds, but the painting here seems to me to speak of open wounds and depths and unknowns. It would be easy to stand in front of the painting and visually fall into it  (it is about 8.5 feet by 10 feet). There seems to be no escape, the only option to move deeper and deeper. This was, essentially, what Caravaggio's Thomas and the followers of the Cult of the Side Wound wanted to do: move into closer contact with the wound of Christ. Perhaps it is only through moving closer that we can come to understand and heal the wounds of humanity.

Of course, that is what Jesus did in becoming human. Move closer to the wounds of the world, bringing healing with him. Is there a balm in Gilead? Who or what is that balm? Or will a balm just not do the work...and do we need a surgeon?

(Top) Caravaggio. The Incredulity of St. Thomas. 1603. Sanssouci Picture Gallery. Potsdam, Germany. (Middle) The Side Wound of Christ. Book of Hours. France, perhaps Verdun and Paris, ca. 1375. MS M.90 fol. 130r. NY: Morgan Library and Museum. (Bottom) Mark Rothko. Four Darks in Red. 1958. NY: Whitney Museum of American Art.

What does Abraham Lincoln have to do with this? See Art&Faith Matters on Facebook.
For thoughts on Mammon in Luke 16:1-13, click here.

Psalm 138: Based on Characters Created By

This reflection is more art reflection than text reflection. If you want more on Isaiah 6 or Luke 5, the links are below. This reflection will instead be looking at how one artist interpreted a particular psalm and then, between 5 and 500 years later, how another artist interpreted the art of the earlier artist. The subject is Psalm 138, though in the Vulgate, some changes in numbering make this Psalm 137.

(Left) Utrecht Psalter, folio 77v. c. 820-845. Utrecht, Holland: University Library, Universiteit Utrecht. (Right) Harley MS 603, folio 70v. c. 1000-1500. London: British Library. For quickest access to folio 70v of Harley MS 603, use the pull down menu at the top right of the image window.

The earlier text is the Utrecht Psalter, was created c. 820-845 in Reims, France. In the 11th and 12th centuries, the manuscript was in Canterbury, England, as part of the collection of Robert Cotton. Probably during that time, the manuscript was copied. That copy is identified as Harley MS 603 in the British Library.

The two manuscripts do have some stylistic similarities, but the differences are obvious enough that we know the scribe(s)/illustrator(s) of Harley 603 were not compelled to make a slavish copy. The later illustrations may have been based on something in the earlier image, but there are enough differences to be obvious. One of the most obvious is the fact that in Harley no one is "bowing down toward [God's] holy temple" as verse 2 says in the NRSV translation. The translation of verse 2 offered on the Utrecht University website says "I will worship towards thy holy temple." Was the translation chosen recently to match the illustration? Why would artists - one more than a thousand years ago - make the choice to not show "bowing down"?

The notes for the Utrecht Psalter say the illustrations are visual representations of the text, phrase by phrase. The collection page linked in the photo caption allows you to click on a portion of the Utrecht illustration and identify the portion of the psalm being illustrated.

 

Though the arrangement of images is completely different, some of the elements are similar: the long basilica-shaped "temple," groups of people. But there are differences as well. In the notes for Harley, the description for Psalm 137: People praising the Lord (left) and the Psalmist standing before a temple; (lower image) people in captivity hold up their hands (left) and a king is given gifts by the hand of the Lord (right). What is missing as you read the text? Do you agree with the identifications of the images?

The center bottom image shows a seated figure holding a book(?)
(that may be in the upper register of the Utrecht image) and what seems to be a clump of vegetation: flowers, stems, leaves. Do you see reference to that in the text? Or is this just the artist filling space on the page with images of God's creation?

The two images can help us (maybe even force us) to define how we hear the psalm. Which do you think captures the text, the mood, the feeling of the Psalm?


This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook, another manuscript of this psalm.
For thoughts on Isaiah 6:1-18, click here.
For thoughts on Luke 5:1-11, click here.

Luke 4.21-30: The Word Has Left the Building

The episode of Jesus preaching in his home synagogue begins with Luke 4:16. Jesus is handed the scroll, he reads the words of Isaiah and returns the scroll to the attendant. There was a momentary pause, then Jesus proclaimed that the word had been made flesh in himself that very day. And the uproar began. In the second part of the story, found in verses 21-30, we get, as Paul Harvey would have said, "the rest of the story."

The rest of the story doesn't go so well for Jesus. He is driven out of town up to a hill where the crowd plans to throw him off. That doesn't happen, but even so, it's probably not the homecoming that Jesus' followers imagined.

The manuscript illumination below is from a picture Bible created in northwest France c. 1190-1200.  In this illustration Jesus is literally pushed out of (presumably) the town. Green grass is under his bare feet. But in this manuscript illustration Jesus seems to be carrying a book as he is pushed out of the city.

The Jews Chase Christ Out of the City. 1190-1200. The Hague, KB, 76 F 5 fol. 16r sc. 1B. 

Koninklijke Bibliotheek National Library of the Netherlands

The icon Christ Pantocrator usually shows Jesus holding a book (the New Testament). The icon of Jesus the Teacher shows Jesus with an open book and the text "I am the light of the world..." Seeing Jesus carrying a book in this setting raises questions rather than answers them.  

What is that book? Is Jesus taking the scroll of Isaiah (conveniently bound in book form) with him? Or is this an attempt to remind the viewer that in rejecting Jesus as the Word (who became flesh and dwelt among us) they also rejected that the word they heard was fulfilled in their hearing? In Mark's version of Jesus' rejection in Nazareth, the gospel writer remarks that because of the people's unbelief Jesus could do no deeds of power among them. Perhaps that is the reason for the book leaving with Jesus. His power left with him, and his power came from God, whose story is told in scripture. The people don't know it, but they are pushing away the Word of God. 

This week on Art&Faith Matters on Facebook..."Is not this Joseph's son?"  For additional thoughts on Jeremiah 1:4-10, click here.

I Samuel 1 and 2: Hannah Did You Know?

The similarities between Hannah's song (I Samuel 2:1-10) and Mary's Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55) are well-documented and analyzed. Both songs are spoken after the promise of the birth of a boy child. Both have themes of the coming of God's reign, turning this world upside down: the poor are raised up and the lowly are exalted. God is fully in control through the one who was chosen and anointed by God.

What is quite different about these two women's stories is "the other woman." Both Hannah and Mary, in the context of their pregnancy experiences, encountered another woman. These "other" women offered quite contrasting responses to Hannah and Mary.

Hannah must deal with Peninnah, also wife to Elkanah. Peninnah has children where Hannah has none. Peninnah's practice is to provoke Hannah, taunting her about her lack of children. Though Elkanah professes to love Hannah best, she is still subject to the stinging words of the other woman. In the manuscript illumination below, Elkanah, Hannah, Peninnah, and her children are on the road back home from Jerusalem.

The journey home is one scene on a page devoted to the story of Hannah. In the top left Elkanah has made his sacrifice and distributes portions to Peninnah and her children as well as to Hannah. Though Hannah may receive a double portion, the greater amount goes to Peninnah who receives portions for herself and her children. In the upper right we see Hannah weeping in the temple, where Eli believes she is drunk. In the lower right is the miracle: the birth of Samuel.

In the lower left panel, Elkanah, his two wives and his children all seem to be on the road home. Elkanah has a raised finger as if he is chastising Peninnah for her taunting of Hannah. Peninnah's children appear to be eating bread as they walk.

(Left) Hannah's Grief; Hannah's Prayer; The Road Home; Samuel. The Morgan Picture Bible (MS M.638, folio 19v). Paris, France. 1240s. Morgan Library, New York. (Right) Visitation. Book of Hours of Maréchal de Boucicaut. 1405-08. Manuscript (Ms. 2) Musee Jacquemart-Andre, Paris, France.

What a trial life must have been to Hannah before the birth of Samuel. Hannah, of course, longs for a child and has been unable to have one, a circumstance that Elizabeth would fully understand. Mary is unmarried (though betrothed) and finds herself unexpectedly pregnant. Fortunately Mary's experience visiting her relative Elizabeth is entirely different from Hannah's difficulties. 

From the moment Mary arrives at the home of Elizabeth and Zechariah, she is greeted as one who has been blessed by God. Elizabeth acknowledges that "blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfilment of what was spoken to her by the Lord." Elizabeth understands that Mary will be "the mother of [her] Lord." There is affection and respect and support between the two women.

Hannah, too, has received a promise of sorts. Eli asks that God fulfill her petition - which does happen. Presumably Peninnah's comments either stop or cease to hurt Hannah. Her son is not with her daily, but she has fulfilled the promise she made to give her son to God. As Mary's story unfolds, she, too, will give up her son. And that is when her own soul will be pierced by sorrow.

For thoughts relating I Samuel 2:1-10 and Mark 13:1-8, click here.
For how Psalm 113 relates to the story of Hannah, see Art&Faith Matters on Facebook.

Proverbs 31. 10-31: She Can Bring Home the Bacon...

If you are from an old-enough generation, you may remember the tv commercial (I'm assuming it was just a USA commercial, but I don't know...) in which a woman sang, "I can bring home the bacon...fry it up in a pan..." The song was related to "I'm a Woman," written by Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller and sung by Peggy Lee. The song begins, "I can wash out forty four pairs of socks and have 'em hangin' out on the line..." The refrain is "'Cause I'm a woman...W-O-M-A-N! I'll say it again." The woman described in Proverbs 31 begins to take on some of that superwoman aura. She seems to do it all. Home, family, business. Everything she touches turns to gold.

Are all women supposed to be the woman described in Proverbs 31? Can all women be that woman? Can any woman be that woman? Have we turned this aspirational woman into an unrealistic expectation? Even the writer has a sense of that question, asking "A capable wife who can find?" (NRSV) "A good woman is hard to find..." (MSG) If women are required to have all these accomplishments, we might be inclined to echo Pride and Prejudice's Elizabeth Bennet when she remarks to Mr. Darcy that she is no longer surprised at his knowing only six accomplished women and rather wonders that he knows any at all.

In response to a culture that advocated for the idea that women could do nothing, Christine de Pizan (sometimes Pisan) wrote a manuscript called The City of Ladies. Written in response to comments about women by writers and philosophers like Matheolus (who wrote in his Lamentations that women were among God's worst creations), The City of Ladies was an encyclopedia of women who countered the stereotypes of women that were being repeated and published. Christine's book honored women for their faith, for their loyalty, for their works, for their learning, and for their intellect.

Christine herself might have been included as more than the narrator of City of Ladies. Married young into an arranged marriage, Christine and her husband had a happy marriage. After her father's death, Christine and her husband Etienne took responsibility for Christine's family. When Etienne died ten years later, Christine became responsible for her three young children and her mother. Christine found patrons for her writing, successfully (and singlehandedly) supporting her family.

 [Christine de Pizan lecturing.] Master of the Cite des Dames and workshop and Master of the Duke of Bedford. The Book of the Queen. British Library. Harley 4431, f. 259v. c 1410-c 1414. The manuscript, known as 'The Book of the Queen', includes Works by Christine de Pizan, assembled for Isabel (Isabeau) of Bavaria, queen consort of Charles VI of France, and produced under the author's supervision. Possibly some passages are in the hand of Christine de Pizan herself. 

Those good women might not be as hard to find as we think.

For thoughts on Mark 9:30-37, click here.

This week's Art&Faith Matters' Facebook post considers biography and photography in light of Proverbs 31.

Deuteronomy 18.15-20: How the Word Comes to You

God provides words for those who are called (Deuteronomy 19:15-20, Epiphany 4B). It is a fact not just for this instance in Deuteronomy but also for Moses, for Isaiah, for Jeremiah, and for the gospel writers.On some occasions, the writings tell us how the word came from God. For others, artists imagine how to show the inspiration God provides.

A previous blog post (here) considered Chagall's depiction of how Jeremiah received either words or confirmation that he would receive words from God. An angel touches the prophet's mouth as a sign. 

For the artist of the Gospel Book of Abbot Wedricus, inspiration comes differently. Here John writes his gospel while a dove, symbolizing the Holy Spirit and held by God's hand, speaks into the ear of the evangelist.

St. John the Evangelist, from the Gospel Book of Abbot Wedricus. 1147 A.D. Tempera on vellum.

Societe Archeologique et Historique, Avesnes-sur-Helpe, France

The touch of a hand? The whisper of a dove? Does one feel more immediate, more connected? Do you have a different idea entirely? How does the word of God come to you?

See another aspect of God's call to prophets on this week's Facebook post. 

For thoughts on the Gospel reading for Epiphany 4B (Mark 1:21-28), click here.

Matthew 25.1-13: How to Stay Awake

Keep awake, for you do not know the day or the hour. That's Jesus' parting line in the gospel reading for Proper 27A(32A)/Pentecost 23A (Matthew 25:1-13). How do you keep awake? Count sheep? Drink coffee? Set an alarm to go off regularly?

The ancient writer Pliny, in The Natural History (Book X. Chapter 30), writes: "During the night, also, they (cranes) place sentinels on guard, each of which holds a little stone in its claw: if the bird should happen to fall asleep, the claw becomes relaxed, and the stone falls to the ground, and so convicts it of neglect. The rest sleep in the meanwhile, with the head beneath the wing, standing first on one leg and then on the other: the leader looks out, with neck erect, and gives warning when required."

Bestiary, with extracts from Giraldus Cambrensis on Irish birds. Southern England (Salisbury?). Harley 4751 fol. 39. 2nd quarter of the 13th century. London: British Library. http://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=28696

In the manuscript illustration, the sentry bird is the only one with eyes open. As described by Pliny, the sleeping cranes are each standing on one leg, though all five birds have their heads above their bodies. This is not the case in the manuscript illumination below, where all the birds have "craned" their necks. The sentry crane looks up, while the sleeping cranes have tucked their heads under their wings. The sleeping cranes here are standing on two feet. The sentry crane holds the stone in its claw. 

Bestiary. Manuscript (Sloane MS 3544). 1225-1275. London: British Library. http://www.bl.uk/catalogues/illuminatedmanuscripts/ILLUMIN.ASP?Size=mid&IllID=6908

Pliny's description echoes Aristotle's text from several centuries earlier. In History of Animals, Aristotle writes: When they settle down, the main body go to sleep with their heads under their wing, standing first on one leg and then on the other, while their leader, with his head uncovered, keeps a sharp look out, and when he sees anything of importance signals it with a cry (Book IX.X.).

Who are the people we might identify as our "sentry cranes"? They are the ones who remain awake even as the rest of us sleep. They are the ones who cry out to warn us of impending danger.

For thoughts on the gospel reading and the reading from Hebrew scripture, click here. 

For another tie between cranes and a gospel story on the Art&Faith Matters Facebook page, click here.. 

Matthew 17.1-9: Doing Laundry

According to Matthew's gospel (17:1-9, Transfiguration A), at the moment of transfiguration Jesus' clothes became "dazzling white" (NRSV). Luke uses the same language. Mark's version gives us a additional phrase. Mark 9:3 says: "...and his clothes became dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them." The King James Version gives us further information by using the word fuller (And his raiment became shining, exceeding white as snow; so as no fuller on earth can white them.)

Using the word fuller may tell us more about the Britain of King James than turn-of-the-millennium Israel, but it is an interesting avenue into the Transfiguration text. It takes us to...laundry. Fuller comes from the Anglo-Saxon word fullian, "to whiten". And though the occupation of fuller is Anglo-Saxon, there is evidence of bleaching fabric at least as early as ancient Egypt. Specifically, white linen was bleached for the clothing of the upper classes. Wet cloth was rubbed with natron, a naturally occurring salt. The cloth was spread out, beaten with a wooden mallet and left to dry. The hot sun combined with the salt to bleach the fabric. The practice of spreading clothes and fabric out in the sun as part of the laundry process continued into contemporary times when a washer and dryer became common time-saving devices. The manuscript illustration below is part of a German manuscript from 1582. In the image women are working by a river. One of the women is washing clothes directly in the river while others wash in wooden basins. A fire burns under a pot, providing hot water. In the background, women hang the clothes (or maybe just cloth) on wooden racks and spread cloth in the fields to dry.

Splendor Solis. Harley 3469. British Library. 1582. Origin: Germany. 

Though this text (and the Transfiguration itself) does not seem to be so much about washing as cleansing, other texts draw a parallel - and in the KJV a word parallel - with the idea of washing and its role as a remedy for human sin. Malachi 3:2 (NRSV) says "But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap." The fire and soap are purifying elements and are the plan for how the Lord will deal with this world on the Day of the Lord.

The Greek word (which only appears in Mark's gospel is gnapheus (γναφεύς); its Hebrew counterpart is mekabbasim (מְכַבְּסִֽים). Both words are nouns (though the Greek is singular and the Hebrew is plural) describing people who wash or launder clothes. But no thing, no one, on earth could have made something as bright as Jesus' clothes on that mountain. Indeed.

A more literal translation of Matthew 17:2 is that Jesus' clothes became "white as the light". It's a different thing to be the white of light and the white of pigment. White light contains all colors of the spectrum. They come together to make the brightest light possible. In the world of pigments, white is the absence of all color. For fabric to be totally absent of all color, some kind of bleaching process is needed, because the fibers will have natural color of their own. For example, the "white" of sheep's wool isn't totally white. No matter how often the sheep's wool is bleached, the gospel writer tells us, the wool could never be as bright as Jesus' garment.

Perhaps what happened at the Transfiguration simply reminds us that all the earthly means of washing and bleaching can't make things as bright as Jesus. In that moment the real Jesus shone through: not a human whose sins are bleached away in a process, but the Son of God whose embrace of a spectrum of disparate colors causes a brightness brighter than anything we have ever seen before.

White as the light? Which pigment should you buy for that? Good question. Look at Art&Faith Matters Facebook page.

For additional thoughts on Transfiguration, click here, here, here, or here.

I Samuel 17: Already Equipped

David and Goliath. It's one of the Biblical references that has entered secular culture. A smaller business takes on a corporate giant...David and Goliath. An unranked sports team enters the athletic arena against a national championship team...David and Goliath. A handful of protesters halt production at a manufacturing facility...David and Goliath. There is no shortage of images depicting the lectionary reading from Hebrew scripture for Proper 7B/Ordinary 12B/Pentecost 4 (I Samuel 17).

Usually it is the battle between the shepherd and the giant that speaks to artists. Hulking giants that make the shepherd seem frail by comparison. The giant in a stone-assisted face plant. The sword that is ultimately the instrument of death for its owner. The Art&Faith Matters Facebook page will highlight some of those this week.

But there are other parts of the story, and one episode in particular offers us insight that may be especially helpful in our own times, when more and bigger seem to be considered better. In verses 38 and 39 Saul tries to give David his armor. The armor has protected Saul, has brought him victory, has given him an edge in battle. He wants to share that with this shepherd who has agreed to face Goliath on behalf of the nation. So David tries. He puts on the helmet and sword and other pieces.

Folio 28r. Morgan Bible (Paris, France). 1240s. Morgan Library, NYC. http://www.themorgan.org/collection/crusader-bible/55. 

The progression of the story is told in the page of the Morgan Bible above. In the upper left David volunteers to face Goliath. In the upper right, David is given Saul's armor, including his helmet. It fits surprisingly well in the picture, given that Saul is almost twice David's height. But in the end, the armor is just too much. David isn't used to it. So he takes it off. And that may be the most humorous illustration.

David may one day be the greatest king of Israel, but here he looks like every person who has flailed around as they are trapped in a garment they are trying to remove. His head has disappeared and his hands are grasping at the excess chain mail, trying to pull it over his head. You can see the bump his head is making about halfway "up" the head covering. While the armor appeared to fit him in the upper right illustration, here we see how awkward David would be trying to fight in armor that is not his.

And that appears to be the point. David was equipped by God with the necessary skills to accomplish the task he was called to do. Trying to be someone else, trying to wear someone else's clothing (even protective armor) is simply a hindrance. When David sticks with what he knows, when he sticks with what God has given him, then it works.

The Dutch drawing below depicts the next part of the story. David has removed the armor and it sits like a pile of recyclables. Saul stands taller than the rest of the men with David at the right, gesturing at the pile. He acknowledges the thought behind the gift but understands (and announces) that he will leave the armor there. In a pile. Goliath won't be felled by armor but by God. It's a decision that David makes even before the battle begins. And in that decision lies the victory.

David Rejects Saul's Armor. Circle/School of Rembrandt. c. 1655. Drawing. British Museum, London. http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/collection_online/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId=710447&partId=1&searchText=2010+113&images=true&page=1

For thoughts on the Gospel reading (Jesus calming the storm) Mark 4:35-41, click here.

Luke 24.36-49: Rock, Paper, Scissors, Fabric, Lock

The locked door is one of the details to watch for in pictures of the gospel reading for Easter 3B (Luke 24:36-49). It was important enough for the writer to mention it, but it is hit or miss in the depictions of Jesus' post-resurrection appearances. Often these appearances are focused on the wounds in Jesus' hands and side rather than other details. Only very occasionally does an artist include a platter of fish that need to be present in Luke's account of this locked-room mystery. Why include such a detail in the text if it isn't important?

The Risen Jesus Appears to His Disciples. 1476. Codex of Predis, Royal Library, Turin. 

http://www.bibliotecareale.beniculturali.it/index.php/en/

The 15th-century illustration from the Codex of Predis gives the barest details. The disciples are tightly gathered around Jesus, who is partially clad in a toga-like garment. The room, with a ceiling of corbeled wooden beams, is barely big enough to contain all the disciples as they stand. The possibility of sharing a meal is unthinkable. 

The only other object that breaks up the unadorned blue walls is the door, crafted with what appear to be strap hinges and a lock made of iron. Those elements are the darkest things on the page, at the opposite end of the value scale from Jesus' white winding-clothes. The cloth does nothing to lessen the impression of Jesus as ghost, but the wounds that prove it is indeed Jesus are easily visible. The contrast between flimsy fabric garment and solid metal object would seem to underscore the impossibility of entering a locked room. But this Jesus has the ability to do what seems impossible, and he has the will to go anywhere as he redeems humanity. Even into a locked room.

Yes, in this case, flesh and fabric are indeed stronger than iron.

For thoughts on Acts 3:12-19, click here.

This week on Facebook...how the story looks in one children's story Bible. Click on the link. And check out Food&Faith Matters for ideas of two sauces to serve the next time your menu, like the disciples', includes fish.