Category Archives: Advent 2014

New Heart, New Life – Week 3 of Advent

New Heart, New Life

Take hold of your courage; preferring to be absent from the body and at home with the Lord. 2 Cor. 5

In this week of Advent, we focus on our responsibility in changing our own lives. Our heart is the singular director of our motives, our decisions, our lives. In order to change your life, you must first address your heart. These words slide easily off the tongue or over a keyboard, but enforcing them within yourself is exponentially more difficult.

We are colorful creations, broken under the weight of our own obstinacy and insecurity. We enter this world as pristine glass sculptures. Physically imperfect, but entirely transparent and pure creatures. Every interaction, from encounters with other frail creations to inanimate obstacles either polish our sheen or leave cracks in our carapace. As life progresses, the spider-like feelers continue to fracture from the epicenter of every crack. Before long, our cracks become breaks and we lose shards of our innocent encasement. Society teaches us to concentrate the core of our energy on piecing these shards back together in a pristine cloak, a never-ending endeavor that leaves us frustrated and filled with regret. God has a different plan.

Today’s piece is designed to be read from background to foreground the recess into a mid-ground layer. The background is dark and chaotic, a seeming explosion of blacks and blues. The torso stretches itself from bottom to top, gaining every bit of height its muscles can maintain. The base of this torso is orange, the opposite color of the blue background. The soul of this torso rejects the dark influences around them.

It is through the jaggedness of our fragile and shattered selves that the light of Gospel endeavors to shine. Each crack, every pointed shard, refracts the light further and breaks the love we show the world into a full spectrum of the Gospel like a prism. Open your heart to loving the world and all the shattered sculptures moving around us. Let them see your courage to live boldly open in spite of your imperfections.

With a strenuous, sustained pull in both directions, the torso opens itself to bear its soul to the world in all its imperfections. This act of complete exposure leaves this individual vulnerable to conjecture from the rest of us while simultaneously raising itself above all others. The heart-shaped hole being ripped through this chest exposes a beautiful mosaic of color as a single light illuminates every plane of shattered glass once moulded in this unified body.  The irony being, exposing this shrapnel of wrong turns reunites every scrap like a jigsaw puzzle, reassembling itself into a being more beautiful than the original. An act that refuses to go unnoticed and inspires others to open themselves in a beautiful butterfly effect of self discovery.

If you will change your heart, demoting yourself to a servant of all, you will change your life to become the hero for many.

Advertisements

The Rescue – on the Second Sunday of Advent

To free or deliver from confinement, violence, danger, or evil.

To liberate or take by forcible or illegal means from lawful custody.

On this second Sunday of Advent 2014, we celebrate Jesus’s arrival as the spiritual medevac for creation. Our captor is stripped of power, the walls that cage us compromised. Today we celebrate our rescue.

The Rescue

Today’s piece is a modern adaptation of an ancient Christian symbol, designed to pronounce Jesus as savior.

Ancient Savior SymbolDesigned by Greek artists, the center of this icon references the cross used to slaughter Jesus the man in an effort to eradicate the Roman culture of the spirit of love and social justice he lathered over his community.

The sets of letters each carry significant meaning.

IC are the first and last letters of Jesus’s name, written in Greek. Ἰησοῦς, transliterated as Iésous (ee-ay-sooce) are the names we know as ‘Jesus’ or ‘Joshua’.

IC XC NIKA

XC are the first and last letters of the title, Christ.  Χριστός, transliterated Christos (khris-tos) literally means, anointed one, the Messiah, the Christ.

NI KA are meant to be read as one word, NIKA. Nika is a Greek verb which translates into our language as ‘to conquer, win, be victorious’.

The final statement of the Christogram, ICXCNIKA, is this phrase:

“Jesus Christ is victorious.”

I have modernized the Christogram to reflect our theme for this second Sunday of Advent, “The Rescue”. Using an old, beaten and tattered work table from a furniture manufacturing plant, I cut a panel to feel like war-torn debris. The panel is cut to 33″ x 33″, representing the 33 years Jesus walked on the planet.

Using a textured, Army green spray paint, I covered the wood panel and scraped over the tacky coat to create even more textural nuances and make the panel appear camouflaged.

My central cross is the Red Cross logo. Nearly every human being from even the least industrialized nation automatically associates this logo with a rescue team, emergency relief and disaster recovery. This is the universal symbol for being rescued.

The goal at this point was to make the panel feel like it is a piece of a military emergency medical vehicle recovered from ground zero along the front lines of battle. This panel, damaged, beaten and riddled with imperfections is humanity. Our natural tendency is to focus all of out intensity on camouflaging every flaw in a sheer mask of perfection. Despite our best efforts, the truth will always shine brighter than the fabricated reality we project.

The red cross covers our facade with blatant disregard for our weak attempts to reconcile ourselves. The red is bright, it saturates every flaw and jumps off the board to suddenly draw you into itself in a sweep of fierce protection.

The letters, sprayed on like a graffiti artist’s tag in a blood red paint surround the cross that holds you secure. ICXCNIKA, Jesus Christ is victorious.

The rescue is upon us.

From Dark to Light – Advent Begins

Literally defined, the word advent is a noun which announces the arrival of a notable person, thing or event. The Christian tradition accurately applies this word as the introduction of the Creator to his creation. Our maker, our king, the explanation of our affection, our God has arrived. A critical precursor to understanding the weight of Advent is understanding ourselves and our place in the story.

The moral, ethical and spiritual struggles so many experience today are not products of social evolution, nor are they problems which cultures 2000 years our senior would find unfamiliar. The details have changed, but the root of our problem remains the same, altruism does not come naturally and the narcissistic beast which leeches itself on each of us from birth is not easily detached. Tantamount to our DNA, the common thread we share with all of our ancestors is the instinctual drive to serve ourselves, suppressing the needs of all others in order to feed our internal monster. All too late, the curtain is drawn and the true nature of the dreams we selfishly chase is exposed – to be the object of your own affection is to be alone.

History documents an endless cycle of nobility leading to egocentricity and civilized captains mutating into maniacal oppressors. All of these inflations being subsequent to the inevitable collision with ourselves which travels down every human connection in an explosive outbreak of anguish and leaves us empty. God arriving in the human form of Jesus was not the equivalent of our parent walking into our bedroom to throw down a lecture, this was your closest friend stepping into every crevice of your life and saying “I know you’ve tried and I know your mistakes. What’s past is gone, let’s do this together.” Jesus’s life was not a regulatory, administrative mission. It was the ultimate expression of love to us which set the ultimate example for us. His life was, and still is, the flame that illuminates our darkness.

No single image could ever be expected to carry the motivation for celebrating Advent much less the gravity of this man, arriving in the skin of this baby, in this place and at this time. Each week in during this season will produce a unique work of art, individually inspired to relate a specific characteristic of Advent. Beginning this season is our transition from darkness into the illumination of the light which is rising.

Focus intensely on the positive image of the painting, allowing the shapes and colors to burn themselves onto your retina.

From Dark to Light

The barren landscape feels very isolated, very cold, but also light. Loneliness tugs on your soul like the weight of an iron anchor plunging into the depths of the ocean. In simultaneous irony, the snow-covered hills reflect the lightness of the gently dancing clouds draw you closer into this world’s embrace. Peering over the frigid landscape, you almost feel a stiff winter breeze slide its icy fingers beyond the protection of your layered garments and violate every cutaneous detail you’ve worked so hard to conceal. The setting sphere appears sun-like, but its dismal blackness kidnaps all your strength in a violent back draft. What we perceived as our light has suddenly become our darkness.

After 45 seconds or more, look away from the cold landscape and toward a solid, flat surface. The inverted image will be revealed.

I lift my eyes up to the mountains, from where shall my help come from? Psalm 121:1

Dark to Light - inverted

Your eyes reveal an explosion of colors which jolts you into a new awareness. The dark is now light, the cold grows warm, your loneliness chased away by a new presence. The void that raped your soul of its stamina erupts with a brilliance that sheathes you like a lover’s sudden embrace. The thirst of your soul is immediately quenched by a reassurance of security so personal that it reanimates the very confidence your previous affections endeavored so intensely to extinguish. You now feel yourself standing a little taller. Air rushes through your lungs in a dance of freedom as your head raises skyward. The sun is rising, a new day beginning.

The son is rising.

This is the start of Advent.