Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Painting Pentecost


Text: Acts 2:1-11

My initial painted exploration (painted while the text audio was on repeat):
the proclamation. The light shining in the darkness. The Spirit making a way

Pivotal moments in the sermon:
  • "The Spirit reminds us that God works beyond our language and understanding. There was a sound LIKE rushing wind and a phenomenon LIKE tongues of flame, but these are similes. Just like all of our understanding can only give us a glimpse of God."

    (but)
  • "...perhaps the Pentecost miracle wasn't that fire came down from heaven or that the sound of rushing wind filled the place. ...perhaps the miracle wasn't even that people started speaking in languages previously unknown. Perhaps the miracle was that God's word--God's message--was HEARD. Understood.
    ...in a world where the church is perceived as judgmental, hypocritical, and homophobic, perhaps we need to ask ourselves what words--what messages we're proclaiming (regardless of the language).


    (so)
  • "...the Spirit is poured out on all who are present. ALL hear the call to share God's wondrous deeds! We SHOULD use our words--limited though they may be, the Spirit will carry them to completion."

Therefore.... the whole church was invited to come forward and paint words--words of God's mighty deeds that we feel called to share and proclaim. (or, in recognition that the Spirit moves beyond our human language, people were also called to simply put paint on the canvas--to mark presence and participation.


I called in some favors (made good use of gifts) from the congregation and the painting was turned into an altar runner that will remain on the communion table throughout the season of Pentecost:

Reflection: there was something very pastoral about sketching an outline that the congregation came alongside and filled...   And, btw, I initially intended to do a simple line off the dove (like in my painted reflection above) but the banner took on a life of its own. The final flame image was much more free and vibrant. (just like the Holy Spirit blows where it wills).

....Oh, and we also did this in both services:
Dear Fabulous Brass Player,
Pentecost Sunday is June 8th .
As you (might) know, the Acts 2 Pentecost story depicts the Holy Spirit pouring out on gathered believers in the form of rushing wind and fire.  It was a blazing moment of unexpected Holy disruption.
...so what better to express “rushing wind” than the use of wind instruments? What better to depict the dramatic entrance of the Holy Spirit than brassy fanfare? And what better to celebrate that moment of unexpectation than an unannounced quintet who sneaks into the service and plays from the back of the worship space?

Singing Art into a Sermon



Admittedly, this sermon was shaped less by exegetical art than by a conversation with high school student. She sings in the praise band, so I'll claim music as the mode d'art, but the conversation went like this: "…you say 'we love you God' in your prayers and most of the praise songs talk about our love for God, but I wonder--do I really love God? How can you actually love a God you can't see or hug?" (She didn't know the lectionary texts I had been considering, but her question solidified the text and the direction of the sermon).

As preparation, I spent a good deal of time listening to music--songs/hymns about loving God (or general songs about love that popped into my head).

...and I ended up using a song as part of the sermon:

Father, I adore You
And I lay my life before You
How I love You

Jesus, I adore You
And I lay my life before You
How I love You

Spirit, I adore You
And I lay my life before You 
How I love You

I started with the first stanza, Preached for a bit (pushed the question of loving God. Not just God loving us, but us loving God...is love an action or a feeling?) and then used the second stanza to mark a shift to the sermon body (five ways we can love God: Obey God's commands, wonder and marvel at God, spend time with God, love God's people, and practice the presence of God--recognizing that the Holy Spirit is with us even if we can't hug God). The third stanza beautifully captured and reflected the final image in the sermon.
 
I was concerned about the perception of singing from the pulpit. I didn't want people to think I was showing off, but I also wanted to sing it well (didn't want my voice to crack in the middle).  I'm so used to diving in with some sort of opening line that taking a breath to sing--it felt so strange! Then, once I started singing, I was immediately self-conscious about all kinds of things I hadn't thought through.
Do I look up? Close my eyes? Sing faster? ...is this ME singing to God? Or does the song simply exemplify/frame the message?  Should I have warned people or set the song up? Should I have practiced this?
(I closed my eyes and tried to make it my authentic prayer, slowly settling into my voice and the acoustics).

It felt incredibly vulnerable.

...and it definitely caught people off guard. Some jerked their heads up. Some smiled. (someone later confessed: "at first, I thought you had made a mistake or something.")

The transition from speaking to singing was very strange (I cut straight--no mention or build up… as if the song itself took the place of transitional sentences to the next thought) but it kept me very present in the message.

The song's structure brought out the fullness of the text's  Trinitarian references (Jesus speaks of asking the Father to send the Spirit") and the connection between love and obedience/surrender was absolutely perfect ("if you love me, obey my commands"). I didn't intentionally seek this song out, but it dialogued flawlessly with the sermon I was already writing. This sermon would not have worked if I had decided to sing and then sought out a song…..

...but the best moment of the whole sermon happened in the contemporary service. I sang the final stanza, said "amen" and started to walk off the stage but the music director had me stay. He changed the final song (on the spot) so that the whole congregation sang the song together--expressing and practicing the sermon itself:

"Father/Jesus/Spirit we adore you
And we lay our lives before you
How we love you."


"When you put biblical truth to the songs used in churches, you’ll have the congregation leave singing the sermon. You’ll have God’s thoughts, things that are God-breathed, stuck in their heads. It’s sad to think about a really catchy tune paired up with bad theology because that could, honestly, do a lot of damage in church."
- Laura Story

Palm Sunday with Figs


Lectionary Text:  Mark 11:1-11 (and vv 12-14)

After reading the Scripture several times, I kept coming back to these images:
  • Jesus' triumphant entry ( branches/clothing tossed down, crowd shouting hosanna!)
  • The cursed fig tree in the verse after the entry (tree had leaves but no fruit)
    ...which is particularly interesting when paired with the Spring fig tree referenced in Mark 13

Reflection from the painted exegesis….
I was caught off-guard while painting the palm branches, because I had to paint the END of the branch.
(I was already thinking about the shape of the fig tree and realized, hey, these branches have no roots!)
no roots.…
no fruit...
 
And the act of painting fruit; starting with bright greens and slowly adding the figgy-purple (you can't really see the color transitions from this picture) kept bringing fullness-of-life thoughts to mind.
(thus the shout-out to the Holy Spirit and the Nicene creed)
Because of course the Holy Spirit is at work in Holy Week. And working in shriveled branches to bring us to the fullness of life. That's the hope of Easter, right? And the tension of Holy Week?

As a side note, I did a lot of googling for figs and really loved this fig farm on tumblr