Consistency

"And He is the image of the invisible God,

the first-born of all creation."

Colossians 1:15

consistent \kən-ˈsis-tənt\ -

Latin-consistens, present participle of consistere 1archaic : possessing firmness or coherence2 a: marked by harmony, regularity, or steady continuity : free from variation or contradiction b: marked by agreement

29 April 2009

As I write this morning, I stop to look across the room at my sleeping family. It is early morning. We are in a motel. Tonight our oldest son, Joshua, boards a plane for foreign soil. Again. He is a Marine. "We never know what a day may bring forth." How often have I heard those words? The certainty of the uncertain is consistent. This morning, I read these words from Oswald Chambers:

Naturally, we are inclined to be so mathematical and calculating that we look upon uncertainty as a bad thing. We imagine that we have to reach some end, but that is not the nature of spiritual life. The nature of spiritual life is that we are certain in our uncertainty, consequently we do not make our nests anywhere. Common sense says - "Well, supposing I were in that condition . . ." We cannot suppose ourselves in any condition we have never been in. Certainty is the mark of the common-sense life: gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways, we do not know what a day may bring forth. This is generally said with a sigh of sadness, it should be rather an expression of breathless expectation. We are uncertain of the next step, but we are certain of God. Immediately we abandon to God, and do the duty that lies nearest, He packs our life with surprises all the time. When we become advocates of a creed, something dies; we do not believe God, we only believe our belief about Him. Jesus said, "Except ye become as little children." Spiritual life is the life of a child. We are not uncertain of God, but uncertain of what He is going to do next. If we are only certain in our beliefs, we get dignified and severe and have the ban of finality about our views; but when we are rightly related to God, life is full of spontaneous, joyful uncertainty and expectancy.
"Believe also in Me," said Jesus, not - "Believe certain things about Me." Leave the whole thing to Him, it is gloriously uncertain how He will come in, but He will come. Remain loyal to Him.

And so, I am expectant. As Oswald puts it, I am 'breathlessly' expectant of a God who is consistent.

Communion

"The grace (favor and spiritual blessing) of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the presence and fellowship (the communion and sharing together, and participation) in the Holy Spirit be with you all. Amen (so be it)."

II Corinthians 13:14 Amplified

communion \kə-ˈmyü-nyən\ 1: an act or instance of sharing 2a. capitalized : a Christian sacrament in which consecrated bread and wine are consumed as memorials of Christ's death or as symbols for the realization of a spiritual union between Christ and communicant or as the body and blood of Christ b: the act of receiving Communion c: capitalized : the part of a Communion service in which the sacrament is received 3: intimate fellowship or rapport. From Latin communion-, communio- mutual participation

For almost a decade, I communed with an amazing group named Westminster Academy; men, women and children participating in a common goal- to glorify God. My part was helping with art. I am always amazed at the number of 'Christian' schools that don't have art instruction. Westminster has both an upper school and lower school program. Today I made challah (see photo above). As the aroma filled, first the oven, then, the house, I thought about the word communion. I thought about those I have communed with, teachers, students, friends. And so, today I share work from former Westminster students. May it bless you as it has me.

Julie

Amanda Johnson

Self Portrait

Joel Avila

Revelation 12:1

Lexie Shaunak

Alabaster Face

Holly Halford

Self Portrait

Anna Carnes

Stone, Wire and Glass Marbles

Lauren Vanderpool

Pay or Passion

Descent From the Cross
Ed Knippers


"If I proclaim the Message, it's not to get something out of it for myself.
I'm compelled to do it, and doomed if I don't."
I Corinthians 9:16
The Message


"There is nothing to live for but God,
and I am still full of the orchestras that drown His voice."
Thomas Merton


compel \kəm-ˈpel\ 1. to force or drive, esp. to a course of action
L.compelle (re)-com (with)+pellere (to push, drive)


Yesterday, while walking, I passed a young boy. He was on all fours, writing something on his driveway with colored chalk. I stopped to read, in very large letters, "I looked at awsome things on my mycroscope!" I wonder, what compelled him to share that message with the neighborhood? And, once again, I asked myself, "Why do I do what I do?" What compels me? Is there anything I do from pure motives? Compulsion, by definition, is forceful- a drive. So, what drives me? There was a time I told my students that all actions were driven (compelled) by one of two forces, or, a combination of both:

PAY or PASSION.

I understand now there are other forces at work. Several years ago, Terri and I heard Ed Knippers speak at Cornerstone on spiritual lessons learned in the studio. He said, "Where would I find my identity? In art with perhaps a Christian veneer that would most likely fade over time, or in Christ with the real possibility that there would be no art. Early on I had to give up art. As someone had said, 'Art makes a lousy god.' So does anything else but God. It was only when our Lord gave back my art as a call, a vocation, that I could truly be free to give it all my energy and strength for His glory- it was only then that I could truly become an artist."





#3, Torn and Crumpled

Michael Carter

And so, I think about that little boy and his chalk letters. Someone has said, 'art is the communication of a discovery.' That sounds right. Joy that cannot be contained but spills onto the concrete of the world with colored chalk makes me glad I went for a walk.

Prayer For Joshua

Teresa Carter

So Joshua called together the twelve men he had chosen- one from each of the tribes of Israel. He told them, "Go into the middle of the Jordan, in front of the Ark of the LORD your God. Each of you must pick up one stone and carry it out on your shoulder- twelve stones in all, one for each of the twelve tribes of Israel. We will use these stones to build a memorial. In the future your children will ask you, 'What do these stones mean?' Then you can tell them, 'They remind us that the Jordan river stopped flowing when the Ark of the LORD's Covenant went across.'Joshua 4:4-7

\ab-ˈstrakt, ˈab-ˌ\ Medieval Latin abstractus, from Latin, past participle of abstrahere to drag away, from abs-, ab- + trahere to pull, draw. 1.not easy to understand because of being extremely complex, remote from concrete reality, etc.; abstruse

I once heard Tony Martin, an artist/pastor from Great Britain give a lecture on Abstract art. It was a small gathering in a Memphis coffee shop called the Ugly Mug. He used the Joshua 4 passage as a defense, or rather, permission for Christians to participate in the production of Abstraction- as a means of presenting the Gospel. It was beautiful. For years I struggled with abstraction. Sometimes a lack of understanding is accompanied by suspicion. I wondered if Abstract art was legitimate, valid, or, as I had been told- 'an inability to do better, a cop out'. In a paper entitled, Toward A Prophetic Aesthetic, Greg Card said, "The challenge is to present/implement something in the material realm that represents the dynamic of the revealed spiritual dimension."

I suppose the thing I struggled most with was the notion that 'art is serious play.'

When Calvin Seerveld stayed in our home, he had a private conversation with Terri about painting. She told him she wanted to be a better realist. He asked, "Why?" It is a simple question with profound implications. He suggested, "enjoy the process, have fun...play with the paint."

And so, the years have passed. My understanding and appreciation continues. My vocabulary of the language of art increases. Sometimes what isn't said speaks loudly. Sometimes it takes the abstract. Thank you Tony, and Greg, and Calvin.

"Certain experiences may be transmitted by language, others-more profound-by silence; and then there are those that cannot be transmitted, not even by silence." Elie Wiesel

Calvin Seerveld and Teresa Carter, seriously speaking on having fun

Good Friday

Angel of the Lord

Lilli Turner, age 5

There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emmanuel’s veins;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.

Lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains;

And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains.
William Cowper, 1772

It is raining. If there is one day in the entire year that rain is appropriate it is the Friday before Easter, the only day humans have named 'good'. I am sitting outside. The sky is Payne's grey. Old-timers would say, "The sky's gone smooth cloudy." I have been reflecting on all I have to be grateful for, a long list. Today, I am especially grateful for the Cross. Today I meditate on friendship and loyalty. John was the only disciple of Jesus at the Cross that day. My perspective of the Cross is post-resurrection. What must have been going through John's mind? Forced to watch his closest friend die, abandoned, alone. I am overwhelmed with knowing I take the Cross for granted, I take the goodness of the Cross for granted. 'His kindness leads to repentance.' His kindness puts me on my face, and, like Peter, cry 'Depart from me, for I am a sinful man!' And so, He left us. But on the third day He came back!

No Tombstone Needed

"The power we attain in the world of space terminates abruptly at the borderline of time"

Abraham Joshua Heschel

When I worked for my Pop in the monument business I worked alongside Rudy, sandblaster and chief stone setter. The business was small. There was Pop, Rudy, Alice (the secretary) and me. One day, Rudy and I were in a cemetery, a cemetery on a hill. We were at the bottom of the hill, the tombstone needed to serve a grave at the top of the hill- a stone setters' conundrum. Usually when presented with this problem we would 'buck up' and make it happen. On this day the ground was soaked with rain. The ground was, in Rudy's words, "slick as a gut". (I wonder if he'd read the theory of intestinal use in the construction of the pyramids.) After a couple of false starts, we arrived at a solution. We borrowed boards from the cemetery outhouse and built a road...one step at a time. We delivered a public tribute to the dead by depriving privacy to the living. Pop asked me recently to do a presentation rendering for a monument he hopes to sell. I confess, I am intrigued. I have done many renderings, designed many memorials, but this one will become a piece of history. The memorial is for someone in the country music hall of fame, a lifetime achievement recipient. Over the years I have designed, fabricated, and installed monuments in hundreds of cemeteries. And so, I wonder, "Why is this one different?" As I pondered this question I also asked, "Why do we memorialize the dead?" I know the marketing response- I grew up in the business. And then, the words of G.K. Chesterton came to mind, "God grants us the ability to remember that we forget..." We, humans, are forgetful. To remind us that someone lived we make tombstones of granite and marble, not cardboard and marker. As we approach Easter I am, again, reminded that Jesus doesn't have a tombstone. And I am grateful.

No Other Gods, Michael Carter

"How true it is that sadness is often the result of our attachments to the world."

Henri J.M. Nouwen

There was a time in my childhood I read the Bible every night. It was a bedtime ritual. I memorized the usual verses, John 3:16 being the first. At some point I decided I would start from the beginning and read cover-to-cover. It was interesting stuff, for the most part; creation, good people, bad people, flood, slavery, redemption. Then one night I read these words, “And when He had finished speaking with him on Mount Sinai, He gave Moses the two tablets of the testimony, tablets of stone, written by the finger of God.” I stopped and read the verse again. Written by the finger of God, in stone! What did that look like? I remember thinking, ‘I’ll bet He had good handwriting!’ The awe I sensed that night, sitting cross-legged on my bed, has never left me. Years later I would meditate on these words, “You are a letter of Christ, cared for us, written not with ink, but with the Spirit of the living God, not on tablets of stone, but on tablets of human hearts.”
My father owns a memorial business, i.e. he makes tombstones. As I grew into the business I developed an appreciation for stone. Among stone workers there is a saying; “It’s not the big ones that will hurt you, it’s the little ones.” The logic behind the saying is that most people have sense enough to not pick up large stones, but size can be deceiving. Weighing in at 180 lbs. per cubic foot, a little bit of granite goes a long way. It is also durable, able to weather the elements for centuries. ‘Between a rock and a hard place’ takes on personal meaning when unloading a truckload of granite. These qualities, hardness and durability, make for good tombstones. Mount Sinai is covered with granite. I can imagine the God of the universe stooping to write in Sinai granite, with His finger.
My High School experience does not fill me with fond memories. Actually, I hated High School. I skipped classes, failed tests consistently. My passion of course was rock and roll. School seemed to be a major waste of my time. Weekends were spent playing gigs with the band I was in. Senior year became a countdown for weekends and, ultimately, graduation. Upon graduating I vowed I would never set foot in a school again. And then, for reasons known but to God, I enrolled in college. In my second year of college my advisor recommended I change my concentration from painting to graphic design. The word graphic comes from the Greek grapho, meaning ‘to write’ or ‘describe’. Hence the iconographer writes images. As the name implies, graphic design is about the business of writing design by arranging visual elements to form a composition which, ultimately, arrives in printed matter. Years ago it was called advertising design. “The only thing you can do with a painting major,” he said “is teach. You can actually make a living with graphic design.” I suppose that was his way of saying, “You’re not good enough to make a living as a painter.” Little did either of us know that one day God would call me to teach High School. God has a great sense of humor.
Now I am putting the finishing touches on a book project- working title, 'Jots and Tittles', The Commands of God. Imagery began with a call-to-entries for an art competition. A Jewish society in New York was sponsoring an exhibit based on the theme ‘The Second Command’. I was intrigued. A visual art exhibition depicting, “You shall make no graven image”, was challenging and, in my opinion, bold. I liked it. My solution was to paint my hands, palms upward and empty. No tools, no materials; just the hands of an artist, as an offering unto the Lord. I bordered the canvas with the command in Hebrew. I finished the painting but I didn’t enter the competition. I didn’t quite ‘pull off’ what I saw in my minds eye, the discrepancy between my imagination and my reality was too large. What I did do was begin to wonder. How would I depict the commands of God with hands as the primary images? A series emerged inside my head. Hands can express emotion in a way faces cannot. Then I began to see feet, feet and hands; a mode of transportation and tools of operation. And, to some degree, the letter form was always integral to the composition. As a young ‘graphic design’ major in college, my appreciation for the letter form deepened. I studied the work of typographers and calligraphers. The nuances of serif weight and terminal swashes, ligatures and dingbats excited me. I wanted the letter form to ‘work with’ the image, a contemporary illuminated manuscript feel. My favorite medium is watercolor but I felt this series needed to be on canvas. After working through a variety of shapes, false starts, and media (acrylic, watercolor and oil) I finally began to work with digital art. I am, after all, a ‘graphic designer’. I’m still working on “actually making a living.”

A Temporary Age

Psalm 1, German Psalter, Ambrosius Lobwasser, 1722

When I cannot close my eyes, and the night goes on

Troubles taunt on every side, and my doubt is strong

Shelter me, shelter me

Let the thought of your compassion be my strength

Prince of Peace, shelter me

from the tempest of my unbelief

Mighty God who calmed the sea, come and shelter me.

Bruce Carroll, Shelter Me

Children of the 21st Century are born into a digital landscape. There's is a world of ridges and valleys built upon ones and zeroes. I entered the stage, as Calvin Seerveld puts it, in the middle of the 20th Century- 1956. In 1956 gasoline averaged 25 cents per gallon, a first-class postage stamp was 3 cents, and unemployment was at 4.4%. Woody Guthrie released This Land Is Your Land. Jackson Pollock died. The minimum wage was $1.00 and the average annual salary was $5,300. Something else happened in 1956, something that would change the way we see. Ampex introduced the Quad- a practical, professional videotape machine. In November, 1956, CBS became the first American television network to replace film with videotape.

In my senior year of high school I became fascinated with photography (the word photography comes from two Greek words and literally means writing with light). After reading everything I could find, I built a darkroom in my parents basement, under the stairwell. There was no sink so I had to carry tanks and trays upstairs to a bathroom or outside and use a garden hose. My favorite film was Tri-X, ASA 400, but, if you increased time and temperature in development you could 'push' it to 1600. Favorite developer-D-76. So, what's the point? Shooting pictures on film, for me, was a big deal. For each frame, I had ONE chance. My camera did not have a delete button. When the shutter was released I was committed. So, I framed my shots carefully, composing as I shot. I knew that capturing the image was only the beginning of a lengthy, expensive process. Watching that image appear in the developer was nothing short of a miracle, something 'children of the digital age' may not experience. This is a microwave, high-speed, temporary time in which we live. Did you know you can buy an ink jet printer, with ink cartridges, for less than the replacement ink cartridges cost? Why buy ink cartridges? Just buy a new printer. I suppose visits to Wal-Mart remind me why I love scripture, a reminder that some things are permanent.

I just read this- 'Then God said, "Let Us make man in our image, according to our likeness". When I was nine years old I said "yes" to Him. It was a heart/soul/mind yes. So, I am still in the developer. And it is a lengthy, expensive process.