PAINTINGS – Inhabiting Time

« Coronamorphosis »

This painting was made inside the experience of the COVID lockdown. The imagery is based on a novella, The Metamorphosis, written by Franz Kafka and published in 1915. It tells the story of a young man who works as a traveling salesman while still living with his parents in their apartment. He wakes one morning to find that his body has changed into the body of a large beetle. Needless to say he finds this to be alarming. How would he dress and get to work? What would his parents think? The routine and confined life that he knew previously had just been unexplainably intensified by many degrees. He locks himself in his room as he struggles in isolation to find a way forward, to somehow return to the previous normality of his life. This unanticipated crisis exposes all the hidden insecurities, anxieties, and contradictions of his life.

One day you awaken and your world seems irreparably changed and beyond your control. This was the experience of us all during the pandemic.

Coronamorphosis • acrylic on canvas • 30 x 24 inches

« My Ways and Your Ways »

This painting works from the text of Isaiah chapter 55 in the Hebrew Bible. The basic composition for this painting came from a photo I took with my phone while working on another painting. The grid structure is the exposed beams in the ceiling of my studio. The white orb is the light that I use when painting.

Isaiah 55 was supposedly addressed to the Jewish people in exile in Babylon. It assured them of God’s intention to return them to their homeland. But it also called them to stop spending their wages on “what fails to satisfy” — their wandering ways within an idolatrous culture that would not return them home. The future with “good things to eat and rich food to enjoy” would be theirs when they “seek their God where He is found, and call to Him where He is near.”

Multiple circuits and paths. Disrupted and intersecting. This one nearly got away from me — so many elements. But I think it found its settling place.

My Ways And Your Ways • acrylic on canvas • 40 x 30 inches

« Entanglement »

Quantum Entanglement is a theory in the area of theoretical physics that proposes that multiple units of physical matter can somehow be connected and act as a single unit despite being at a distance from each other. I find there to be resonances in this theory with various theological understandings surrounding the Incarnation of Jesus. One approach sees Jesus as ‘the heart of creation’ — not as some all-powerful super hero but more as the fullest expression of the goodness of humanity and all creation. This is what I was hoping to point to with this painting.

Entanglement • acrylic on canvas • 28 x 24 inches

« Ah Poor Jesus »

A new art project finished and installed in our sanctuary for Lent. AH POOR JESUS is comprised of twelve 16 x 20 inch panels affixed together. Each panel is based on an historical depiction of Christ — from the 12th to the 20th century. Each panel is also inscribed with a text from the Christian Scriptures.

Eight of the texts are from the Psalms, three from Isaiah and one from the Gospel of Luke. There are multiple instances in the Gospels and in Paul where the writer places the words of the Psalmist into the mouth of Jesus. Descriptors of the Suffering Servant were also applied to Jesus in his suffering. This was part of the understanding of the early Christians that Jesus was the fulfillment of traditional messianic expectations.

Note that only four of these images are taken from crucifixion paintings or altarpieces — the remainder are either pre- or post-crucifixion. This is an attempt to recognize the lifelong struggle and suffering involved in the condescension of Jesus to take on human: as in Philippians 2:7 “but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant or slave.”

Below is a listing of the source for each panel and their accompanying text,
from top to bottom and left to right:

SAN DAMIANO • Italy • 12th century
Isaiah 49.04 • I have exhausted myself for nothing

PIERRO DELLA FRANCESCA • Italy • 15th century
Psalm 31.10 • for my life is worn out with sorrows

SICILY • Italy • 12th century
Psalm 22.16 • a gang of villains encircles me

CARLO CRIVELLI • Italy • 15th century
Luke 9.58 • no place to lay his head

WARNER SALLMAN • United States • 20th century
Psalm 69.9 • zeal for your house has consumed me

KARL SCHMIDT-ROTTLUFF • Germany • 20th century
Psalm 22.07 • despised by men and the contempt of the people

MICHELANGELO CARAVAGGIO • Italy • 17th century
Psalm 88.18 • darkness is my closest friend

GEORGE ROUAULT • France • 20th century
Psalm 69.19 • my shame and disgrace are past cure

MATTHIAS GRUNEWALD • Germany• 16th century
Psalm 22.15 • my heart is like melted wax

SAN MARCO • Italy
Isaiah 53.08 • he was cut off from the land of the living

CATALAN • Spain • 12th century
Isaiah 53.08 • they made his grave with the wicked

COPPO DI MARCOVALDO • Italy • 13th century
Psalm 42.08 • all your breakers and waves surged over me

[ acrylic on twelve 16 x 20 inch canvases • overall dimensions 76 x 72 inches • 2023 ]

« Exceeding Sorrowful »

“Exceeding sorrowful” are the words from the King James version of the Bible used to describe the emotional state of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane as he confronted the trials and suffering that lay ahead of him. He has just finished partaking in the “the Last Supper,” the Jewish Passover meal celebrating the release of the Jewish people from slavery in Egypt. During this meal with the twelve disciples — the intimate companions who had journeyed with Jesus over the last three years — he announces that one of them will betray him. He tells them that, like the wine of the Passover cup, his blood will be poured out. And that, like the Passover bread, his body will be broken. This meal and time together contained more trauma than celebration.

Then Jesus tells the disciples that he will be “struck down” and that they will all desert him. One by one they protest and declare they would sooner endure prison or even death, rather than disown Jesus.

Jesus then withdraws to the Garden of Gethsemane and takes Peter, James, and John with him — the same three disciples who accompanied him during the Transfiguration. Why does Jesus take any of his disciples with him as he goes off to pray?

One possible answer: there is an affinity to Jesus’ care for his disciples when Jesus interrupted his conversation with Moses and Elijah during the Transfiguration to bend down to his disciples to calm their fears. He has just heard their protestations that even at the risk of prison or death they will not desert him. And yet he knows that though their spirits may be willing, their flesh is indeed weak, and they will fall away and scatter.

Jesus asks the disciples to wait and pray as he goes off to pray alone. This is a relatively simple task compared to the drama and trauma they are about to experience. But they are overcome with sleep and fail to do what Jesus requested. In an indirect way, Jesus is making plain to them how their willing spirits will be overcome by the weakness of their flesh. At the same time, he shows his acceptance of this weakness. He recognizes their “exhaustion from sorrow” (Mark 14.40). Even in the anguish of his utter aloneness, Jesus’ words to them are an encouragement to persevere in prayer.

This painting suggests that the anguish Jesus experienced at Gethsemane was not just about confronting the suffering he was about to endure. It was also about the betrayal and deep isolation he now faced. Jesus was the Good Shepherd who was struck down and lost his sheep [Matthew 26.31: “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.” quoting Zechariah 7.13].

The head of Christ is based on a crucifix by Coppo di Marcovaldo [Italian c. 1250]. The figures of Peter, James, and John are based on an icon by Feofan Grek [15th century].

[ acrylic on canvas, 36 x 24 inches, 2023 ]

« Three Days and Three Nights »

In chapter 12 of Matthew’s Gospel, the scribes and Pharisees confronted Jesus and demanded that he give them a sign. Jesus responded with words of indignation: “This is an evil generation that asks for a sign.” And then proceeded to say that the only sign this generation would receive would be the sign of Jonah. This sign would be that “as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of a huge fish, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth.” By placing Christ in the belly of the whale, Three Days And Three Nights offers an interpretation of this passage.

In first century Jewish culture, miracles were simply that. A ‘sign’ however was a clear indication from God concerning his actions and his intentions. These could come in the form of unnatural occurrences or messages delivered by angels. In these terms, the ‘Sign of Jonah,’ and was the fact that God sent a great fish to rescue Jonah from the sea and three days later restored him to life on dry land. Some have suggested that it was the power of God demonstrated in his rescue that Jonah proclaimed in his preaching to the Ninevites, to which they so whole-heartedly responded. In similar fashion, after three days God rescued Christ from death ‘in the heart of the earth’ and restored him to life. And the witness and preaching of his resurrection would bring multitudes to repentance.

There are two Scripture texts incorporated into the painting:

• “you flung me into the abyss” from Jonah 2:4, Jonah’s prayer while in the whale’s belly.

This echoes multiple instances in the Psalms where the Psalmist cries out for help against enemies, sickness, betrayal from friends, despair. It also reflects Jesus’ experience in the Garden of Gethsemane as he approached his impending Passion. From the Gospels: “My soul is sorrowful to the point of death” [Matt 26.38]; “He began to feel terror and anguish” [Mark 14.34]; “In his anguish he prayed even more earnestly, and his sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood” [Luke 22.44].

• “brought safely through the waters” from 1 Peter 3:20

This references multiple narrative events in Scripture: Noah and his family rescued from the Flood, the children of Israel escaping centuries f enslavement by walking through the Red Sea, crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land. It also invokes the experience of baptism in which the believer emerges to new life from out of the watery depths of death.

The presence of the descending dove references the baptism of Jesus, who was plunged into the watery depths and from out of which he rose to begin his three-year mission. The dove is also present because the name ‘Jonah’ is the Hebrew word for ‘dove.’

Beneath Christ’s feet are the broken doors of hell which he destroyed so he could “preach to the spirits in prison” [1 Peter 3:18]. In the Orthodox tradition, this event signals the resurrection of all humanity effected by Christ’s obedience.

[ acrylic on canvas, 48 x 24 inches, 2022 ]

« Blue Christ Waiting Behind the Towels »

Blue Christ Waiting Behind the Towels is the latest in my Blue Christ series. Taking clues from my recent reading in sacramental theology, this series attempts to explore presentations of the abiding, immanent, enduring presence of Christ in all creation. This we can happily assent to if this places Christ in the splendid beauty and order of the natural world.

However, we seem to be less able to imagine Christ as present and effective in our own immediate lived environments. We are more comfortable with Christ and the whole realm of heaven as being other-worldly — beyond our active engagement. We instead prefer to fashion our own mediating objects — devices, images, and processes to engage our attention.

I think it a most valuable practice to develop ways of imaging the presence of Christ as utterly and lovingly immanent — immediate [without mediation] to our living situations and the face of the other.

[ acrylic on canvas, 24 x 36 inches, 2021 ]

« Next of Kin »

There was a time well into the COVID isolation when I went for regular walks in Scout Valley off Old Barrie Road here in Orillia, Ontario. There were a number of other stressful situations I was dealing with, but my solitary wandering in the woods was very helpful in getting me through that time.

“Sometimes I find protection there

from wind, from sun, from the past

And sometimes unexpected healing

that touches bone to marrow”

Reading “The Hidden Life of Trees” by Peter Wohlleben alerted me to the ways in which the forest is a deep network of multiple communities of trees. There are connections among trees that we are just beginning to understand. And so I imagined the trees as families with family ties. In this painting, I gave them first names to distinguish them one from another.

Healthy woodlands are not only necessary for environmental sustainability. They are also vital for sustaining the emotional and spiritual health of — and relationships among — the human inhabitants of this world.

The forest image is based on a photo taken in Scout Valley. The names in the painting are from my own family tree.

[ acrylic on canvas, 30 x 40 inches, 2021 ]

« But That He Did Not Rise Alone »

Prior to 1000 CE, images of Christ rescuing individuals from Hell in both the Western and Eastern Church were known as images of Resurrection. But gradually from that point forward in the Western Church they were titled The Harrowing of Hell and images of Christ risen from the tomb alone were known as images of Resurrection. This reflects a not insignificant difference in theological perspective. The title of this work comes from an apocryphal text called the Gospel of Nicodemus. John Crossan has written an entire book on this divergence called Resurrecting Easter.

[ acrylic on canvas, 24 x 48 inches, 2021 ]

Exhibition
8th Catholic Arts Biennial • Verostko Center for the Arts, St Vincent College, Latrobe, Pennsylvania • September 6 to October 29, 2021

« Blue Christ Resting Behind My Brother »

In the last year or so I have been more and more intrigued by the insights of sacramental theology. That all of creation can participate in leading us to participate in the life of God. And that despite all of our concerted efforts, the world is still an enchanted place, in which everything is more connected than we ever imagined, and is being drawn together in grace until God is “all in all.”

The icon image of Christ is blue so that no racial or ethnic group can make sole claim to him. It is an image of Christ, the Logos, the Eternal One. He is taking a Sabbath in the shelter of my brother’s longing heart.

[ acrylic on canvas, 22 x 28 inches, 2021 ]

« Download Me Jesus »

Religious icons used as devotional objects can have an oversized impact. Though they are not “the real thing,” their presence can be helpful as reminders of spiritual realities and truths not viscerally present. St Francis of Assisi received a powerful vision about rebuilding the Church when he prayed in front of the crucifix in the Chapel of San Damiano. Our app-filled phones often seem to me like contemporary versions of traditional icons and relics, invoking the presence of absent or distant spiritual realities.

[ acrylic on canvas, 22 x 28 inches, 2020

« Blue Christ and the Powers and Authourities »

[ acrylic on canvas, 28 x 22 inches, 2020 ]