Icons

While visiting friends and family for Christmas, I went to see the featured exhibit at The Museum of Russian Art in the Twin Cities. The exhibit features 54 magnificent 17^th and 18^th century icons from the Yaroslavl Art Museum in Russia. These icons are quite extraordinary considering they are from the “The Golden Age” of Yaroslavl’s cultural life and survived the Soviet’s anti-religious campaign after the Revolution of 1917 when thousands of icons were destroyed. In the early 1920s a small group of scholars and art restorers from Yaroslavl formed an art restoration committee and rescued hundreds of valuable icons by relabeling them “folk art” and removing them before churches were destroyed.

TMORA’s gallery space is a rehabbed Spanish-revival church (former home of Mayflower Congregational Church) and as I moved about with other icon viewers the subtle sound of Russian Orthodox chanting played over a sound system. Most of the icons are from various tiers of iconostases (the 5-6 level wall of icons separating the nave from the altar in an Orthodox Church) and therefore many were between 5-6 feet tall. I had never seen such large icons. Each one told a story either from the Gospel narrative or from an aspect of tradition (such as depicting a martyr). The use of rich colors, offset by glimmering gold created depth and light and an otherworldly effect. The sheer size and rich detail drew me into each one. At several moments I forgot I was admiring art in a gallery and found myself prayerful and in an attitude of worship.

I have always been fascinated by icons as a form of art and as an important part of our Christian heritage (partly due to my affection for Eastern Christianity). A hand painted icon from Greece portraying the Lord’s Supper sits on a shelf in my office and a reproduction of the famed “Old Testament Trinity” hangs in the entry of my house. However, it was during this museum visit that I began to better understand icons as a portal to the holy—a vehicle, if you will, to the awareness of the presence of God in one’s midst. In these brief holy moments, I have experienced the mystery and allure of icons in a remarkable way.

Unlike many other forms of Christian art, Icons have often been as controversial as they are revered. At one time seen as idols, their use was often banned by many Christian sects. Today they are often simply seen as being out-dated and foreign in relationship to our contemporary American Christian faith. However, icons still have a place in our faith today. More than just a connection to and appreciation for the past, icons can provide an inspiring and much needed means of focusing on God in a world of distractions and idols clamoring for our attention.

Anyone in Minneapolis in the coming weeks should visit The Museum of Russian Art. “Transcendent Art: Icons from Yaroslavl, Russia” ends January 24, 2009. 

Sunshine, 2°

Winter Solstice

Today is the Winter Solstice -- the longest night of the year. 

Living this far north of the equator, you learn to appreciate the significance of the Winter Solstice. The length of daylight is very short, with darkness coming in the mid-late afternoon. Most people in my community drive to and from work each day in the dark. Combine that with the cold weather and it is a recipe for lethargy and a desire for comfort foods. 

But then, after weeks of being in the preparatory attitude of Advent, the dark comes for the longest it will be and with the morning sun the days begin to gradually become longer and the light begins to overtake the darkness. There is a sense of hope and optimism that springs forth. It is simply ideal that the early Christians chose the ancient Roman feast of the solstice to celebrate the birth of Christ. In a world of seemingly endless darkness, the light of Christ pierces through and provides hope. 

Christmas coinciding with some of the longest and darkest nights becomes a privilege of living on the northern frozen prairie because it is a reminder that no darkness can overpower the light of Christ. And when we each live in the Way of Christ, his light and love shines brightly. 

I think I write this tonight because it is a word that I need to hear. Rather than being discouraged by the darkness all around me, I must resist the temptation to give up and go into some sort of spiritual hibernation--going only through the motions and only doing what is comfortable. 

As followers of Christ, we are the light bearers and where we live our faith the light overtakes the darkness we encounter in the world. 

Tomorrow the sun will shine a few moments longer than it did today--and it is another opportunity for me (and each of us) to live the light and love of Christ. The darkness will not win. Amen.

Clear, -14°

Blizzard Sabbath

Hit by a big blizzard, most things are shut down today. A Sunday morning without church has provided me with the gift of an unexpected Sabbath in what has been a busy past few days. This morning I found myself leisurely watching Meet the Press and then enjoying waffles and coffee while listening to some NPR.

A major theme of the morning was the economy, which is not much of a surprise since it has been dominating the news for a few months now—especially since the annual shopping extravaganza is in full swing. Over the past two Sundays the economy has found its way into my sermons as well. The “Advent Conspiracy” has guided our worship themes this Advent with its “spend less, give more” philosophy dovetailing each week with the headlines.

This morning I would have preached on The Song of Zechariah (Luke 1:68-79)—also known as The Benedictus. As I prepared this week, I tried to avoid using economic illustrations fearing overkill after the last two weeks. However, now I am glad that sermon will never see the light of day because The Benedictus is a song about the days we are living in.

Zechariah, struck silent due to his lack of faith, bursts into song upon the birth of his son John the Baptist. N.T. Wright suggests that Zechariah’s nine month silence is a reflection of what had been going on in Israel at the time. After all, prophesy had been thought to be silent for a long time and seemingly there was a lack of faith among the people about God following through on the covenant made long ago with Abraham. Zechariah’s lack of faith that leads to silence becomes an odd little sign that God is about to do something new; that a new prophet has arrived to lead people back to God’s ways. Wright suggests Zechariah, Elizabeth, and Mary “stand out real people, hesitating between faith and doubt, called to trust God at a new moment in history.”

We also live in a time of hesitation between faith and doubt. Prophecy seems silent. And God is calling us to trust God at a new moment in history.

Another point of this was made apparent to me this morning as Parker Palmer was a guest on public radio’s Speaking of Faith. Talking about the economic crisis he pointed out that the way we have been living in this country has been an artificial altitude and was bound to fall. This was equated with his own struggles with depression and the personal breakthrough he had with a therapist who invited him to see the depression as a friend who is bringing him down to earth—to ground safe to stand (after seeing that he had lived life at inflated heights). What a remarkable insight—to not see depression as an enemy but as a friend, showing us the errors of our ways, showing us reality. What an insight as we stand at the edge of economic depression.

We are at a new moment in history. We have been living at inflated heights. The chasm between rich and poor is wide and grows wider. National tragedy inspires us to shop.  Christmas consumerism has reached an all time level of ridiculousness in recent years. But as with all times where there has been silence and God is about to do a new thing, God calls forth ordinary people like Zechariah, Elizabeth, Mary, John, you, and me to be a part of preparing the way of the Lord—to be a part of prophesy for a new day.

May each of us who follow Christ see the economic situation as a friend guiding back down to earth. May we see the continuing struggles and decline in our churches as a friend showing us where we have not been faithful. May our hesitation between faith and doubt not lead to be struck with silence, but rather cause us to burst out into song—a sign that God is at work.

Blizzard, -8°