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Wrestling failure – slowly coming to understand its treasures

May 16, 2010

‘Suffering makes us deeply aware of our own inability. It takes away our power; we lose control. The light of our eyes can see nothing. Now it is only the inner light in the eye of the soul that can help you to travel this sudden, foreign landscape. Here we slowly come to a new understanding of failure. We do not like to fail. We are uncomfortable in looking back on our old failures. Yet failure is often the place where suffering has left the most precious gifts.’

Eternal Echoes, John O’Donohue

Having dusted off, John O’Donohue’s book Eternal Echoes and written some about it a couple of days ago, I was leafing through it again today. There is such a wealth of wisdom in this book some thoughts are sad, others joyful, most are a result of deep reflection and compassionate, sensitive articulation. The above quotation caught my eye, among others, and I thought I’d cite it for little more reason than I think it’s beautiful and maybe someone who is questioning the value of their life will read it and feel encouraged. A kind of internet message in a bottle.

I like the first words of the citation especially:

‘Suffering makes us deeply aware of our own inability.’

This is such a hard lesson to come to terms with never mind embrace, but it is an absolutely necessary one and precious gift if we can accept it and receive it in the spirit it has been offered to us by ultimate reality. Suffering is that valuable reminder that we are not eternal, at least not in the sense that the Divine is. God may have ‘placed eternity in our hearts’ and there may be an eternal element of our souls, even our redeemed and future resurrected bodies…but, unlike God eternity is not for us the natural state of our existence.

Rather, we are finite.

We are mortal.

We will come to an end.

Grappling with this element of our vocation, an aspect that is common to all human life, indeed all physical life, has been one of the great battles of human history, of political, artistic and religious life. Yet, if we can not just grapple with this spiritual messenger, like Jacob and the angel at Peniel, in the book of Genesis in the Bible (Genesis 32: 22-32), but actually receive it into our lives, then its painful lesson can sweeten our existence.  The wounding, yet paradoxically healing message the struggle brings will help our lives to be transformed. We will receive a new start, a new identity. In the terminology of ancient cultures we will be given a new name. Not merely any name, but rather a better name – a name that reflects and sparkles with our true nature and inspires our highest achievement.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3a/Lutte_de_Jacob_avec_l%27Ange.jpg

 

The ancient texts of the Bible discuss this paradoxical relationship with suffering in many places and yet, perhaps non is so vivid in its physical and poetic imagery than the story of Jacob. In the Biblical story, Jacob whose name means ‘deceiver’ (literally ‘he who grasps the heal’) had earlier in his youth stolen his brother’s birthright, when he tricked his father into blessing him (Jacob) rather than the rightful heir in tribal law the eldest son, Esau. Later in the narrative, Jacob is an older, more mature man, one who has personally experienced suffering, deceit and trickery himself at the hands of others, mostly in the employment of his cunning uncle Laban. In chapter 32 of the story, Jacob is now wealthy with two wives children, servants and cattle. It is at this point that he has to come terms with the real consequences of his youthful betrayal of his brother, as Esau and his band of warriors ride towards Jacob and his family’s caravan.

Aware of the wrong he committed as a young man, Jacob internally faces death as he contemplates what will happen when he meets his long-lost brother. It is in these circumstances: of contemplating his guilt and shameful failure of character with the prospect of ultimate punishment looming ever closer, as well as considering the harm that might be done to his family too, the innocent ones whom he loves, that Jacob comes face to face with God in a most intimate encounter. They literally wrestle each other.

The Bible tells the story this way:

Genesis 32:22-32 (NIV): Jacob Wrestles With God

 That night Jacob got up and took his two wives, his two maidservants and his eleven sons and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. After he had sent them across the stream, he sent over all his possessions. So Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him till daybreak. When the man saw that he could not overpower him, he touched the socket of Jacob’s hip so that his hip was wrenched as he wrestled with the man. Then the man said, “Let me go, for it is daybreak.” 
 But Jacob replied, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”

 The man asked him, “What is your name?”
      ”Jacob,” he answered.

 Then the man said, “Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with men and have overcome.”

  Jacob said, “Please tell me your name.” 
 But he replied, “Why do you ask my name?” Then he blessed him there.

 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.”

 The sun rose above him as he passed Peniel, and he was limping because of his hip. Therefore to this day the Israelites do not eat the tendon attached to the socket of the hip, because the socket of Jacob’s hip was touched near the tendon.

Jacob – the deceiver – like many of us fights God’s presence in his life, difficult, uncomfortable and afflicting, like physical combat with a wrestler, until he is wounded at the hip and faces his ultimate inability to overcome God. He has been, however, tenacious and utterly determined to win, to literally earn a blessing this time from the Divine messanger…and he does. He becomes Israel, ‘He who wrestles with God’. The stigmatizing label of deceiver(Jacob) is removed and a brand new, sparkling identity of a God Wrestler is stamped into his spirit and soul.

Yet, lest Israel forget the difficult process that led to this new name and new level of vocation, he is physically wounded. His hip is dislocated. From now on, he, Jacob, Israel will walk with a limp. It is this limp, I believe, this reminder of  hard-won successes and their intertwining with personal failures that characterise the mature disciple of Christ. It is also the sign of the weathered, seasoned, spiritual pilgrim of whatever tradition she or he may be a part of. The great  nineteenth century theologian and scholar of religion, Frederich Schleiermacher, (sometimes frowned upon in Evangelical circles), described religion as a sense of ultimate dependency on the Infinite. Perhaps, it is only through suffering and the persistent physical putting into practice of the desire to seek the Divine face and blessing, that we can truly become aware of our own ultimate inability…and thus… our need for… and dependency on God.

 

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Cold Desert – raw, lonely, pure, beautiful

May 6, 2010

Cold Desert lyrics
Songwriters: Followill, Caleb; Followill, Jared; Followill, Matthew; Followill, Nathan;

I’m on the corner waiting for a light to come on
That’s when I know that you’re alone
It’s cold in the desert, water never sees the ground
Special unspoken without sound

Told me you love me, that I’d never die alone
Hand over your heart, let’s go home
Everyone noticed, everyone has seen the signs
I’ve always been known to cross lines

I never ever cried when I was feeling down
I’ve always been scared of the sound
Jesus don’t love me, no one ever carried my load
I’m too young to feel this old

Here’s to you, here’s to me
On to us, nobody knows
Nobody sees, nobody but me

Just listening to the Kings of Leon album Only By the Night on the CD player in the car. I love this album, which I would rate as one of my all time favourites. The whole album has a dark, moody and raw emotional feel to it. It’s the kind of new postmodern rock  that just permeates your skin and bones and seems to speak directly to your heart, only after it has reached the black inner chamber of your secret emotions does it resurface to enter your mind and stimulate ones thoughts and imagination. There are loads of good songs on the album, including Sex on fire, Use Somebody, Crawl, Revelry, Be Somebody and the final track on the album is the one I have quoted and tagged above Cold Desert.

 

I don’t know what the artists mean – the song writers and musicians – at least not specifically regarding the details of the events and lives that inspired the creation of this beautiful and haunting piece of music. For me it’s just one of those songs that catches me unawares when it comes on the CD player in the car. It works like a ‘magic’ key that opens the door to my soul for a few moments. Like a charm, the song opens up the dark recesses of my heart and says to my hidden emotions – “You may be unwelcome in the light and that’s why you have been shut away in the darkness, but right now…you are part of something larger, more humane. You are a amongst a kind of community, where the pain, anguish, confusion, disillusionment, abandonment and grief are all welcome to come out the cellar and feel the warmth of shared human love and lament, as expressed through music.”

Yeah, thanks, that’s how I feel sometimes. Bless you.

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Spiritual Temperaments (7of9): Enthusiasts (dancing, singing, rejoicing)

April 27, 2010

‘Excitement and mystery in worship is the spiritual lifeblood of enthusiasts…(They) are inspired by joyful celebration…Let them clap their hands, shout “Amen!” and dance in their excitement…’ 

Gary Thomas, Sacred Pathways (page 28) 

Photo by Andy Ross, used with permission from istock photo

Much of Gary Thomas’s book is about opening peoples’ minds to discovering God in different aspects of life other than the traditional evangelical habits of daily Bible study, Sunday church attendance and perhaps small group mid-week meetings. His insights are revolutionary if you come from that kind of religious tradition and you suddenly realise that God can be found and indeed God finds us in the great variety and wonders of the world we live in. 

Thomas’ seventh spiritual temperament is the Enthusiast. People with this kind of personality tend to throw themselves whole-heartedly into their devotion – body, soul, heart, mind, spirit. Their response to the sublime is powerfully expressed in physical movement and emotional outpourings. Perhaps, a good example from the Bible of this kind of temperament is the ancient Hebrew King David. In the book of the Hebrew scriptures 2 Samuel 6, a story is told where the potent young King David with his mighty warriors defeats the Philistine army and re-captures the Ark of the Covenant. At that time the Ark represented for the Hebrew people the centre piece of their cultic worship. It was on the Ark that the very Presence of God resided. That is to say, God was considered present in the Ark similar to the way light is present around an ignited light-bulb. 

The story relates the return of the Ark to Jerusalem, the Hebrew capital under King David, and various incidents both bad and good during this somewhat uneasy process. For our interest though, is the behaviour of King David as recorded in 2 Samuel 6: 14 as the Ark was brought back into the capital. The Bible author writes: 

‘David, wearing a linen ephod, danced before the Lord with all his might, while he and the entire house of Israel brought up the ark of the LORD with shouts and the sound of trumpets.’ 

‘David…danced before the Lord with all his might…’ 

Perhaps, in our twenty-first century modern world view it is difficult for us to imagine the spectacular visual scene and noise this religious event must have evoked – dancing, shouting, trumpets sounding. Perhaps, few of us have experienced such vibrant life in Church, although some churches do encourage exuberant worship times. Perhaps, the closest comparisons for us would be major sporting events, music festivals or carnivals. It’s worth us remembering though that for some religious devotees the whole, multi-coloured spectrum of human qualities can and should be used in the celebration and praise of the Divine. 

It’s a bit of a golden-oldey now (1995!), but it still rocks, especially compared to most of what goes on in Church or  even disco. Here’s Matt Redman re-interpretating King David’s words in 2 Samuel 6: 16-22, after David’s wife scorns the King for getting carried away stripping down to his linen ephod and dancing before God in front of the crowds.

 

16 As the ark of the LORD was entering the City of David, Michal daughter of Saul watched from a window. And when she saw King David leaping and dancing before the LORD, she despised him in her heart.

 17 They brought the ark of the LORD and set it in its place inside the tent that David had pitched for it, and David sacrificed burnt offerings and fellowship offerings [f] before the LORD. 18 After he had finished sacrificing the burnt offerings and fellowship offerings, he blessed the people in the name of the LORD Almighty. 19 Then he gave a loaf of bread, a cake of dates and a cake of raisins to each person in the whole crowd of Israelites, both men and women. And all the people went to their homes.

 20 When David returned home to bless his household, Michal daughter of Saul came out to meet him and said, “How the king of Israel has distinguished himself today, disrobing in the sight of the slave girls of his servants as any vulgar fellow would!”

 21 David said to Michal, “It was before the LORD, who chose me rather than your father or anyone from his house when he appointed me ruler over the LORD’s people Israel—I will celebrate before the LORD. 22 I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes. But by these slave girls you spoke of, I will be held in honor.”

2 Samuel 6:16-22 (NIV)

Copyright Amer Kapetanović (Used with permission Zooad, istock photo)

I found the above image of some of the so-called, whirling dervishes – Sufi Muslims who follow the teachings of the poet mystic Rumi. I have seen the dervishes dancing like this on TV they rotate at amazing speeds. I include it, simply as another example of how passionate physical and emotional expressions of love and devotion to God are considered normal in many different religious traditions across the globe, even if they are not the kinds of behaviour we normally expect of religious devotees.

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Listening to the quiet, burning desire to be authentic

April 24, 2010

I found this poem at the beginning of a book on aesthetics (the study of beauty). It struck me as a very modern poem and yet I have discovered it was written in the mid-eighteen hundreds. Still, it speaks to me deeply of the importance and discipline of listening to and paying careful attention to one’s inner feelings and thoughts. Both of which can easily be suffocated and suppressed by a relentless, unseen pressure to conform to what we perceive to be the standards of our culture and society.

Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet,
Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet!
I feel a nameless sadness o’er me roll.
Yes, yes, we know that we can jest,
We know, we know that we can smile!
But there’s a something in this breast,
To which thy light words bring no rest,
And thy gay smiles no anodyne.
Give me thy hand, and hush awhile,
And turn those limpid eyes on mine,                        10
And let me read there, love! thy inmost soul.

Alas! is even love too weak
To unlock the heart, and let it speak?
Are even lovers powerless to reveal
To one another what indeed they feel?
I knew the mass of men conceal’d
Their thoughts, for fear that if reveal’d
They would by other men be met
With blank indifference, or with blame reproved;
I knew they lived and moved                                     20
Trick’d in disguises, alien to the rest
Of men, and alien to themselves–and yet
The same heart beats in every human breast!

But we, my love!–doth a like spell benumb
Our hearts, our voices?–must we too be dumb?

Ah! well for us, if even we,
Even for a moment, can get free
Our heart, and have our lips unchain’d;
For that which seals them hath been deep-ordain’d!

Fate, which foresaw                                                    30
How frivolous a baby man would be–
By what distractions he would be possess’d,
How he would pour himself in every strife,
And well-nigh change his own identity–
That it might keep from his capricious play
His genuine self, and force him to obey
Even in his own despite his being’s law,
Bade through the deep recesses of our breast
The unregarded river of our life
Pursue with indiscernible flow its way;                        40
And that we should not see
The buried stream, and seem to be
Eddying at large in blind uncertainty,
Though driving on with it eternally.

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;                        50
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us–to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.
And many a man in his own breast then delves,
But deep enough, alas! none ever mines.
And we have been on many thousand lines,
And we have shown, on each, spirit and power;
But hardly have we, for one little hour,
Been on our own line, have we been ourselves–            60
Hardly had skill to utter one of all
The nameless feelings that course through our breast,
But they course on for ever unexpress’d.
And long we try in vain to speak and act
Our hidden self, and what we say and do
Is eloquent, is well–but ’tis not true!
And then we will no more be rack’d
With inward striving, and demand
Of all the thousand nothings of the hour
Their stupefying power;                                                70
Ah yes, and they benumb us at our call!
Yet still, from time to time, vague and forlorn,
From the soul’s subterranean depth upborne
As from an infinitely distant land,
Come airs, and floating echoes, and convey
A melancholy into all our day.

Only–but this is rare–
When a beloved hand is laid in ours,
When, jaded with the rush and glare
Of the interminable hours,                                               80
Our eyes can in another’s eyes read clear,
When our world-deafen’d ear
Is by the tones of a loved voice caress’d–
A bolt is shot back somewhere in our breast,
And a lost pulse of feeling stirs again.
The eye sinks inward, and the heart lies plain,
And what we mean, we say, and what we would, we know.
A man becomes aware of his life’s flow,
And hears its winding murmur; and he sees
The meadows where it glides, the sun, the breeze.            90

And there arrives a lull in the hot race
Wherein he doth for ever chase
That flying and elusive shadow, rest.
An air of coolness plays upon his face,
And an unwonted calm pervades his breast.
And then he thinks he knows
The hills where his life rose,
And the sea where it goes.

Matthew Arnold, The buried life, (1852)

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Keeping Quiet

April 23, 2010
  
Keeping Quiet
by Pablo Neruda
   
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.
 
This one time upon the earth,
let’s not speak any language,
let’s stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

 It would be a delicious moment,
without hurry, without locomotives,
all of us would be together
in a sudden uneasiness.

The fishermen in the cold sea
would do no harm to the whales
and the peasant gathering salt
would look at his torn hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars of gas, wars of fire,
victories without survivors,
would put on clean clothing
and would walk alongside their brothers
in the shade, without doing a thing.

What I want shouldn’t be confused
with final inactivity:
life alone is what matters,
I want nothing to do with death.

If we weren’t unanimous
about keeping our lives so much in motion,

If we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.

Now I will count to twelve
and you keep quiet and I’ll go.

 
From Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon
Translated by Stephen Mitchell 

  

  
I was just riding again in the woods this afternoon and these words of the Chilean poet, Pablo Neruda came to mind, about stillness and quiet…
    
‘If we could do nothing for once,
perhaps a great silence would
interrupt this sadness,
this never understanding ourselves
and threatening ourselves with death,
perhaps the earth is teaching us
when everything seems to be dead
and then everything is alive.’

 

As I began my ride, I tried to ride quietly softly through the woods. There was such calm and peace in the woods. My bike gently rolled along the mulchy, sandy paths. The tires make a reassuring soft hum as they traverse the gravel. My ears register the strange quiet in the woods. It is of course, broken from time to time by the distant sound of cars passing on a ring road outside the park, or the frightened rustling of a startled squirrel, or the sweet, chirps and whistles of birds singing above. But above all I am struck by the silence. It is so quiet that I feel that I can actually hear the wood speaking to me. Speaking not through words, but through silence, quiet, peace, the breathing of the forest as I gently rumble through it, a visitor, who comes from outside the wood. Yet, a human who feels at home in the woods fresh air, forest aromas, fragmented light and peaceful green foliage.
 
I feel that the woods welcome me. They welcome me into their world of natural growth, not forced, not planned or deliberate, simply the response of living things to an environment of water, warmth, wind, soil and light. Here in the woods things grow, live and die, They don’t try to influence you to be something else, something better or more worthy, or more correct than you are…they are simply quiet – the fresh air and clean fragrances, the silence simply welcomes you. The woods invite you to take part in the rest from plans or agendas, projects and sales, shopping and winning, competing to beat our neighbour, colleague or friend. There is no competition, just the ebb and flow of death and life. We all will die, the question is will we actually live.
 
I am embraced by the wood - first and foremost, it’s simple, pure silence. I die for a moment to myself. For a few seconds I return the embrace and breath in and out the quiet and fresh air. I am nobody. I am nobody special. Simply, a very lucky man…who gets to ride his bike in the woods on a sunny afternoon. Yet, it is a welcome relief. Here in the woods there is nobody to impress or convince of my worthiness. I need be absolutely no one. I am no one important and yet…the silence of the wood seems to welcome me. She welcomes me …as me…as David…as the wounded young man with a history, that I am. A man with a history…yet, all that which the world and society weighs and measures…seems to mean nothing in the forest. Here is just me and the woods. Nothing else matters…just be quiet, David.
 
Just be quiet … still … listen … to the silence.  
 
 
 

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Designing Banner Art: Creativity + Collaboration

April 19, 2010
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How does one create web-banner art?
By having a go. Jumping in at the deep end. Getting imaginative and visionary ideas out in rough on paper. That is creatively.
Then finding someone who really knows their craft and is willing to work with you to put your designs into a finished product. That is collaboratively.

The banner displayed on the Dark Nights White Soul weblog took shape over various stages and was finally completed through the artistic work of Manchester based illustrator, Jim Boswell. 

The design first took shape in my mind with certain features being representative of key values or ideas that I wanted to discuss in the blog. Although I can draw rather amateurishly, I decided to search the internet for images that could be icons of the ideas in my mind and to try to make a make-shift composite with a little bit of help from my computer. The first draft looked like this:

The first draft of ideas together

 

After finding these images and putting them together in a cut and paste composite with no more tools than those available on my Windows Vista Word programme. The image had to be adjusted in Adobe Photoshop to fit the 200 x 700 pixel size of the blog banner’s space in the theme. The result was this: 

The original draft design reduced to 200x 700 pixel dimensions

I was pretty happy with this design, but felt something was definitely missing. A good friend with an artistic eye told me that the picture needed colour, not just monochrome black and white. My own mind sensed that although the image conveyed the bleakness of the wilderness it failed to suggest the bright lights and vibrancy of the city. I made another draft: 

A further draft design this time with a greater emphasis on colour and city lights

 The above design was created with all the high-tech components of scissors, glue, laptop, and a computer printer and scanner! It is a real photo-montage, where the cutting and pasting was done by hand. Still I felt happy with the results. The image conveyed for me something of the brightness and life of the night, as well as the concealment, shadows and foreboding sense of darkness. It also mixed medieval ancient iconography with contemporary photography. A mixture that spoke deeply to my inner being as a post-modern Western Christian, who lived in multiple cultural worlds. I inhabit the countryside of my home village, but also the night lights of my city Sheffield. I am also a man who claims to follow a deeply historical religious faith with ancient rituals and practices. Yet who finds the arena for living out this faith to be the fast-paced, technological and digital global society of the 21st Century. I sent this image to Jim who had generously agreed to work on composing a drawn and ‘painted’ (in Photoshop) image of the final design. 

The next stage was to reduce the dimensions of the above design to the blog banner specs. 

Draft 3 of my webpage banner design in 200x700 pixels - Night, city, dark, light, ancient, modern

At this point in the process artist and graphic novel, comic book illustrator, Jim Boswell took over the process. Within the space of a week or two, I recieved the following pencil drawings of his interpretation of the design. 

J Boswell's pencils for Dark Nights White Soul banner

I was thrilled with Jim’s interpretation and design. The next stage, as is customary in comic book illustration, was to finish the pencils and complete them in ink. 

J Boswell's Dark Nights White Soul banner inks

Ultimately, the final result can be seen above on the webpage banner. There are different figures in the picture. St John of the Cross is in the left-hand corner of the design. His book The Dark Night of the Soul is a very important inspiration for me in putting together this blog.

In the right hand corner is the skull. In ancient iconography the skull and crossbones represented death and were often portrayed beneath the feet of Christ at the bottom of the cross. Christ’s death on the cross Christians believe defeated the powers of death over human kind. It is also a fact that the crucifixion of Jesus of Nazareth was described in the written documents of the Gospels to have taken place outside the city of Jerusalem on a hill called – Golgotha, which means the place of the skull. 

The skull in the picture also represents the fact that in nature and life, death and dying, especially dying to selfish desires and behaviour, can often lead to the release of the natural world and the spiritual world into New Life. Death therefore, is not so much an enemy, but an ally. For example, as the season of summer ends, the  green, vibrant leaves begin to decay, crumple and turn yellow, brown in colour at the approach of autumn. Autumn tenderly invites us to transition from the warmth and light of summer to the ultimate deathly dark and cold season of winter. So, during the icy chills of winter nature experiences a time of dying back, grief and loss prepares the way for a new burst of life in Spring. Seen in this light death to self can be experienced as a friend, not wanting to destroy us, but to free us from attachments to objects, people, relationships, substances and ideas that actually entrap and imprison us. 

Depicted on the crucifix is, of course, Jesus of Nazareth, the founder and central figure of the Christian faith. The historical persona Christian’s believe to be the Son of God or Christ. 

Next to the cross, are the calming and reflective figures of Mary the mother of Jesus, John the disciple and two other women friends of the Palestinian Jewish man Jesus (perhaps Mary Magdalene and another). They mourn the loss of their son, friend and teacher in the darkness. Their faces and lives are illuminated only by the flickering of candles. Jim has captured the Eastern features and dark hair of these figures perfectly in his drawing. The figures quietly worshipping in brown cloaks remind me of so many women and the occassional younga man, I have met over the years who grieve silently for lost sons and daughters, husbands, brothers, sisters, parents, family or friends by lighting a candle in a peaceful and dark temple, synagogue or church. 

The moon represents the primeval symbolism of night in the human subconscious. Night, a place and time of shadows and hauntings, quiet and cool, darkness and reflection – the time nuns and monks pray. The moon of course is  a light with the partial reflected light of the sun, which has disappeared from sight.

Are there parallels today with the eclipsing of the Christian religion in public life by the religious ‘darkness’ of the Enlightenment?

Is God still shining light on us by reflected rays of sunshine from the moon and stars?

Are we having to learn how to walk in the darkness of faith as God seems to have at least become concealed, if not disappeared from ordinary life? 

I hope you like it. 

Thanks to Jim Boswell for his artistry, efficient work and time while cooperating on this project. For more information on Jim’s services and art, please see: http://www.jimmibo.co.uk/comics.htm 

If you wish to visit his blog: http://jimboswell.blogspot.com/ 

or contact him for estimates, quotations, prices at: artwork@jimmibo.co.uk

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Spiritual Temperaments – Experiencing the Divine through the Senses (2 of 9)

April 14, 2010
 
 
‘Sensate(s)…want to be lost in the awe, beauty, and splendour of God. They are drawn particularly to the liturgical, the majestic, the grand. When sensate people worship, they want to be filled with sights, sounds, and smells that overwhelm them. Incense, intricate architecture, classical music, and formal language send their hearts soaring.’
 Sacred Pathways - Gary Thomas, P.23
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A Mosaic of Christ the Pantocrator (Creator of All) from the Hagia Sopia Constantinople

 

 Thomas’ second group of people  are ‘sensates’.  These people find it first and foremost easiest to relate to the transcendent through the five senses – sight, sound, smell, touch and taste. Religious Traditions across the world have used practices which communicate through all of the senses, a vivid example being Hindu worship of Indian deities, which often involves fire, water, food, flowers, pictures and incense. Western culture, however, especially in Northern Europe has over the centuries  turned its back on sensuous practices for a more austere and bland kind of religion.  This development was firstly influenced by the Protestant Reformation’s rejection of Roman Catholic rituals and iconography in the sixteenth century, in favour of a religion based solely on the ‘Word of God’, i.e.  the preaching and singing of the Bible. Furthermore, it was also shaped by the industrial revolution and a modernistic emphasis on proving the rightness of ideas purely through rational argument. Even today many non-Conformist church buildings and services are very minimalistic and with little decoration. 

Yet, a very sensuous kind of worship in European culture has always been evident in the Eastern Orthodox church,where ornate architecture and vivid, stylised icons, combine with ritualistic liturgies and practices such as the burning of incense, lighting of candles, kissing of icons and annointing with oil.

 

Lighting a candle can be a special form of prayer

 

The above photograph depicts a scene from a Bulgarian Orthodox church, but it reminds me of my years spent liiving, studying and working in Romania. In every Orthodox church I visited in Romania there is a place to remember friends, family and hurting people by lighting a candle. When I was far away from home it felt to me like a powerful and touching way of praying for my distant relatives and friends. Sometimes when it was difficult to pray in long sentences, the gesture of lighting a candle in the darkness seemed to speak much more clearly and profoundly to God and to my soul than I could with mere words.

 

Thomas writes in his book Sacred Pathways (pages 51-61) that he percieves Dutch Roman Catholic priest, Henri Nouwen to be a sensate Christian. He is struck by Nouwen’s description of his encounter with Rembrandt’s painting – The Return of the Prodigal Son – described in his book by the same title. Nouwen writes how he was visiting a friend after a busy and exhausting lecture tour. While sitting in his friend’s office he was taken aback by a poster of  Rembrandt’s painting on the wall. Nouwen describes how at that point in time the painting communicated to him deeply exactly what he felt that he needed. Simply, to kneel in front of a Father God and be embraced. Moved by the encounter with the picture, Nouwen then set about trying to arrange a visit to Moscow, where The Return of the Prodigal Son is exhibited, to see the painting at first hand.

 

For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.' Luke 15:24

 

Rembrandt’s painting has a very sensuous presence. Painted in rich colours, subtle tones and hues, with dim lighting surrounded by deep shadows. A blood red robed elderly Father gently envelopes the destitute son barely covered in rags, as other characters from the story and the Gospels look on. As viewers we might take in some of the senses involved in this picture. Touch especially, is winsomely communicated. The softness of the Father’s luxurious clothing, the human, non-threatening warmth of  both Father and Son’s  reunion embrace. Perhaps, we might also imagine the scene effecting our sense of smell as the woody fragrant spices the Father is wearing and the unpleasant reeking of the son -unwashed and unclean, having worked in a farm feeding pigs, blend together in a very human scene of  a wealthy father welcoming a poor son. At the same time sight is obviously involved. The lighting is intimate, bathing the scene of familial reconciliation in gentle amber light while all around is in darkness and shadow.

If a painting such as the one above and traditional religious devotion inspires you then you may well be a Sensate. Thomas asks the following questions (page 66). Marking each question 1 to 5, with five being very true and one being not true at all.

  1. I feel closest to God when I’m in a church that allows my senses to come alive – when I can see, smell, hear and almost taste his majesty.
  2. I enjoy attending a “high church” service with incense and formal Communion or Eucharist.
  3. I’d have a difficult time worshipping in a church building that is plain and lacks a sense of awe or majesty. Beauty is very important to me, and I have a difficult time worshipping though second-rate Christian art or music.
  4. The words sesnsuous, colourful and aromatic are very appealing to me.
  5. I would find a book called Beauty and the Transcendent interesting to read.
  6. I would like to explore prayer through drawing, art and music.

 A high score between 15 and 30 would indicate that you have a disposition oriented towards experiencing the world and God through the five senses.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in Art/Pop Art, Journal, Journies, Life, Psychology, Spirituality | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

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Kneeling to wash human feet – Maunday Thursday

April 1, 2010

Human hands gently clean human feet

 

Maunday Thursday

Traditionally, at this time of year, Christians from across the world gather together to remember the Biblical story of a man called Jesus, who led a group of male and female disciples in first century Palestine.

The story (or stories) of the Biblical Gospels tell us of how this young man spent time with a small group of close friends having a final communal meal before being arrested by the religious and political establishment of that time,  brutally tortured and executed. 

It is a story told that represents a prescient moment in the history of world religions and civilisation. In a traditional society with entrenched hierarchies of power and authority, the charismatic young leader, who has at times gathered crowds of thousands followers, prepares for an intimate dinner (possibly the Jewish Seda and Passover meal) with an estimated twenty to thirty close friends and family.

 Before eating, however, it is custom for people of that time and place to have their feet washed by a slave. Their feet are covered with dirt and sweat having travelled mostly on foot on dusty roads,  fitted only with simple sandals.

According to the historical texts, the disciples of Jesus should be at the peak of their knowledge, insight and training. Yet, predictably, like so many of us human beings, they expect a ‘lesser’ person to do the dirty work of feet washing.

As almost a final gesture of the young leader’s life,  Jesus, the man at the top of the hierarchy of the group of disciples, takes off his outer clothes, wraps a towel round him and begins to wash…to wash the disciples grimy feet.

The scene is described in chapter 13 of the Gospel of John.

In sparse words, a moment of scandalous epiphany in the history of human/religio relations is richly described. The man at the top gets down on his knees and takes the role (probably of a woman) at the lowest strata of society. For believers this scene represents even more than that…it is God Himself in human form washing dirt from the feet of human beings.

It is an often overlooked aspect of Christian teaching, that I think all of us, certainly myself, continually struggle with. Yet it shows forward a new idea in human beings relationships with one another and with God.  Here we see illuminated that the path to God is downwards not upwards. We encounter God not as ruler or king, but as a servant for blood and boned, fleshly humanity.

Artist Howard Banks captures in earthy hues and subtle light a  silent, close up of this scene. The figures and faces of the people involved are not revealed. We see (we believe) the hands of Jesus and the foot of one of the disciples in a tender gesture and gentle intimacy. Yet, the painting leaves open the viewer to question whose feet and whose hands are portrayed? Might they also be yours and mine? The painting is entitled Our Humble God.

 “Our Humble God”, by artist, Howard Banks, is reproduced with permission by Veritasse Ltd. More  Christian art work by other gifted artists can be found on the Veritasse site at www.veritasse.co.uk 

For a link direct to Howard Banks gallery see below: http://www.veritasse.co.uk/community/artists.html?artist_id=58

Posted in Art/Pop Art, Journal, Journies, Life, Spirituality | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

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Poetic lightening: ‘Not a wasted word’

April 1, 2010

Reflections on  ‘Not a wasted word’ by Kseverny

http://kseverny.wordpress.com/2010/04/01/not-a-wasted-word-by-kseverny/

 

Poet dreams beneath radar

speaks word fine laser

deft clear water precise

Treats feaver like ice

Words heal hot, sweating pain

Media lies down drain

Sing song … claim light

Words reverberate bell right

Breathe sleep rest free

Artist’s work I see

 

By David F

 

See links for other energising poems and art by Kseverny:

http://kseverny.wordpress.com/my-portfolio/

Posted in Art/Pop Art, Journies, Life, Literature, Spirituality | Tagged , , , | Leave a Comment »

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New musical life bursting through the dry ground!!

March 30, 2010
Edgy, gifted musician and songwriter Roo Walker + talented vocalist Emma Holmes

 

I find it so exciting when I meet up with other young(er) people seeking to create original acts of beauty with a deep spiritual core and presence to their art work. Its even more so when it is done with such subtlety and tender nuances that you could unashamedly introduce them to your sensitive, thoughtful non-religious friends.

I heard Roo Walker for the first time performing at Valley Pentecostal Church, Stocksbridge on Sunday night, March 28th 2010. He performed a mixture of classic pop covers (including a rousing version of Valerie, as covered by Amy Winehouse, with a spontaneous improvised booming base loop) together with some of his own music solo and also in tandem with talented new vocalist Emma Holmes. One track in particular Roo played live that really touched me on the evening. I thought it was another cover version of a track by a band perhaps the Verve or Keane? In fact it was one of Roo’s own compositions – The Sound of Selling Out.

The Sound of Selling Out is a indie-rock song from Roo’s EP Positive Music. The song has heartfelt lyrics that seem to stem from real human and artistic insight into the distress and hope of contemporary living. The guitar has a ring of the 90s independent rock and rollers The La’s – There She Goes together with the ghostly electric sounds and passionate, pain-filled vocals of Keane or Coldplay. There is an eery, haunting beauty to the song that penetrates the inner most chambers of the heart and releases the soul to celebrate…just give thanks for both the glory and the pain of acheing, vibrant young life.

Question – Did it make me want to raise my hands, close my eyes, strike up the lighter and dance? You bettya!!

Question – Will it be a song that I want to take on long drives when I wonder on the beauty of new life as the countryside and city drift by in impressionistic visions? No kidding!

Question – Is it a song you will play again and again and again on repeat? Yep, no doubt about it!

This is champion songwriting and musical performance by a young talent. The song is worth the price of the EP alone, but there is also a moving acoustic guitar peace by Roo (>) which means ‘Greater than’.

Look forward to seeing more of Roo live in the future – solo, in duet with Emma and with other Resound Media established artists.

Respect also to generous, gifted and unassuming young pastor David McEwan for putting on the music and social event and giving a platform and audience for these upcoming artistic talents.

Find Roo at www.resoundmedia.co.uk

Link: http://resoundmedia.co.uk/shop/mp3/roo-walker-postive-music-mp3s.html

Posted in Art/Pop Art, Journal, Life, Music, Spirituality | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments »

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