Rembrandt

Do We Give Thanks In Darkness?

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Rembrandt, Paul in Prison (1627)

The troubling darkness of October 7 lingers. The following is my recent homily, offering reflection on how we can respond to a time like this.

 

We are always prone to being unsettled or troubled by unexpected challenges, whether nearby or far away. Since we believe in an almighty and loving God, unanticipated darkness, sorrow, and anger can confuse and upset us. For the people of Israel and Gaza, and those who care for them, October 7 and the days since have been filled with the news of much evil and much suffering. But, if ‘God is love,’ and the giver of all good gifts, as Christians believe, two questions we cannot easily answer will bother us: How can God allow natural and moral evil to happen? And why does God tolerate the suffering of his creatures, and especially of people made in his image?

When facing questions like these, I like to turn to some of Paul’s words in Philippians that we have heard in our recent Sunday lectionary readings: “God… is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (2:13). These words may be hard to accept — and hard to live by — especially if we are discouraged or fearful about what is happening around us. Yes, we hear Paul in Scripture say that God is at work in us. But we may not feel like it’s actually true. Indeed, we may find it hard to believe that it could be true. Yet, Paul wrote these words while he was in prison.

This is what we need to remember: Our feelings are fickle! Our moods and general equilibrium are subject to the ups and downs of our circumstances. Things happen to us, which are not of our own choosing. Feelings are the same way. They also ‘happen to us.’ The difference between what happens to me, and what I choose for myself, is very significant. I can’t do much to change events in the world. And I have difficulty keeping the emotions stirred by them from affecting me. But I can reflect on how I respond to them, in terms of what I decide, and what I choose for myself.

So, instead of dwelling on feelings of discouragement, inadequacy and aloneness, I have another choice. I can choose to remember Paul’s words, and repeat them to myself: ‘God is at work within me. God is at work within me. God is at work within me, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.’

This insight helps us hear, consider, and then perhaps accept, Paul’s challenging words to us. He is saying something much more profound than “be happy,” or “be cheerful!” Instead, Paul is urging us to make a choice, a decision to rejoice and give thanks, even if we may not feel like it. “Rejoice in the Lord always,” he says (4:4), which is different from saying, “always be happy about the world.” It often seems impossible to be thankful for or about the condition of the world. But, we can still be thankful for the Lord who overcomes disorder, and who in the end makes things right. Paul says that the Lord is near, and so we should not worry about anything. Believing that the Lord is near takes precedence over anxiety and concern about what is amiss. Believing that the Lord is near is a choice we make, and not a feeling we wait for.

The imprisoned Paul teaches us how another willed-decision accompanies relying on the Lord’s nearness. In all circumstances, we can — by prayer — let our requests be made known to God with thanksgiving (4:6). This is equally a result of choice, rather than depending on how we feel. When we make this conscious choice to give thanks in all circumstances (rather than for them), Paul tells us that the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus (4:7).

Therefore, confidence, reassurance and peace are not simply feelings that may or may not happen to us. They are, instead, the result of willed-decision-making. So, Paul asks us to keep on doing these things, and that as we do them, the peace of God will be with us.

When I dwell upon what I fear, on what makes me angry or depressed, I give in to feelings that happen to me, especially in relation to circumstances I cannot change. But Paul asks us to do the opposite. Instead of dwelling on the negative, he urges us to reflect on what is positive. Think instead, Paul says, about whatever is true, honorable and just: about whatever is pure, commendable and worthy of praise (4:8). And he urges this based on choices we can make.

Notice what Paul is not saying as he urges us onward. He is not saying, ‘hope for’ good things, which might happen someday. He is saying think about the good that is already true, and happening right now.

In an accompanying lectionary Gospel reading, Jesus says that God’s kingdom ‘is like a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.’ We have all been invited to this wedding banquet, and we are participating in it in our lives today. Again and again, the servants of the king go out and call people to respond to the king’s invitation. But like so many of those in Jesus’ story, we let other things get in the way.

Among what gets in the way are things we worry about, or we feel pressure to get done. Our attention shifts from the wedding invitation, and gets centered on our calendar, and on our ‘to do’ list. Then we get distracted by our anxiety.

Again and again God’s invitation arrives, through the King’s written Word, and through the voices of the King’s servants who call us. But other things press against and bend our priorities, and these other things shape our lives… even though we have been invited to a wedding! We are invited to a celebration and a feast! Joy is written into the invitation. But rather than let God’s joy touch our hearts, strangely, we let lesser things inhabit our imaginations. Many gifts and wedding favors are given to those who come to this wedding supper. Yet, in time, the wedding begins to feel like a ‘work-day,’ when so much seems to be asked of us. We then shrug off the invitation-bearers, as if they are a nuisance, rather than bearers of a joyful message.

So, we should remind ourselves of Paul’s words. For he says,”Rejoice in the Lord always; again, I say Rejoice… The Lord is near.” As Eugene Peterson translates the words that follow, Paul also says this: “Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns.”

Worries can be fashioned into prayers, and concerns can be shaped into praises. We can voice our concerns to the Beloved. It’s a choice! But our natural inclination lets worries and concerns drift into complaints and laments. Yet, we can choose! We can choose to rejoice, and to pray, and to praise. Of course, it may seem perverse to try and give thanks for the things that cause us worry and concern. But that is not what Paul is encouraging us to do. We can still give thanks in the midst of those things. We can give thanks that, despite troubles, we have been included in the wedding supper of the Lamb. We give thanks that we have become members of the Bride of Christ. We have been joined to the Beloved, whose wedding banquet we are part of today. Thanks be to God!

The Beauty of Now

 

Rembrandt’s paintings are so often moving, and speak well of the Dutch genius who created them. When many of his contemporaries sought to portray people and events with greater realism, even if with much feeling, Rembrandt often put the ‘feeling’ side of his work first.

Rembrandt shows his sensitivity to an aspect of the anticipated birth of John the Baptizer. John’s parents were old and despaired about ever having a son who might carry on their name. The artist depicts the aged priest, Zachariah, leaning on a young attendant upon hearing that Mary has arrived. He portrays Elizabeth as also showing her years as she greets her relative with warm regard. Though Mary bears within her womb the holy child of God, she appears humbled in the presence of Elizabeth, perhaps awed at how the grace of God could touch both of their lives in such an unexpected way. Light shines on the two of them, just as it should, given the way that Luke highlights this holy aspect of their shared story. Thankfulness and quiet joy suffuse the scene like the warm light at its center.

Waiting and anticipation are themes we associate with the beautiful season of Advent. In one sense, these two words suggest we already know what we are anticipating, for what we are awaiting. By contrast, Luke’s story about the Visitation suggests a variation on those themes. “Expect the un-expected,” it seems to say, to us who live a multitude of centuries later. And this is especially hard for us to do, in a culture that is so dependent upon the precise measurement of time, and upon the predictability of events in the natural order of things.

Let’s notice this about Elizabeth and Mary, and about John the Baptist who is not yet born. Luke portrays them as living in the moment, as living in God’s time rather than simply in human calendar time. When Elizabeth hears Mary’s voice, John leaps in her womb. Luke then says that Elizabeth is filled with the Holy Spirit, and she exclaims with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, Mary, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Neither John nor Jesus are yet born, and so neither mother has yet received the assurance and peace that will come from seeing them safely delivered. And yet, in this moment, both women are filled with joy ~ joy about the fulfillment of God’s promises!

Elizabeth’s son, John, and Mary’s son, Jesus, would never be closer to the two women. And, in Luke’s telling, their quiet joy reflects their awareness of this, that now, in this moment, God is truly present, imparting grace and fulfilling promises. The same is true for us.

 

Rembrandt van Rijn: The Visitation (1640), Detroit Institute of Arts {many images online}

See Luke 1:41-42: “When Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the child leapt in her womb. And Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit and exclaimed with a loud cry, ‘Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.” Context: Luke 1:39-56. This Gospel reading is appointed for the 4th Sunday in Advent, Year C, which features the Visitation of Mary to her relative, Elizabeth.

The Beauty of His Continuing Presence

 

The most well-known painting of ‘Doubting’ Thomas and his encounter with the Risen Jesus may be the one by Caravaggio. And yet, paintings like his are misleading, as is referring to Thomas as ‘the doubter.’ Why? Because paintings and labels like these lead us to overlook or misperceive some very important details within John’s Gospel story. Rembrandt’s painting of the event (above) helps us notice the difference.

As John tells it, we first find ten of the disciples hiding behind locked doors out of fear. Consider how, during Jesus’ ministry with them, he had more than once told them to fear not. And at the Last Supper, he had given them ‘his peace.’ Yet, rather than remember what Jesus had shared with them, as well as his miracles, all of them have succumbed to fear. Even though Mary Magdalene that morning had already told them that she had seen the Lord. How can these details be squared with any other description than that the ten behind locked doors are doubting, as well?

Second, observe how John’s Gospel describes Jesus’ initial appearance to the ten, when he finds them fearful and doubting. At first, they do not recognize him. It is only after Jesus shows them his hands and his side that they then recognize him, and rejoice at his presence. When they see him, then they believe, and not before. So, once again, Jesus leaves them with his peace. And now, he gives them his Spirit.

Notice what the ten say to Thomas when he then arrives: “We have seen the Lord” ~ the very same witness Mary had earlier offered to them without having had much effect. Thomas naturally replies by saying something like this: ‘Look, I haven’t see him, like you guys just did— and so, just like you, I won’t be able to believe until I see him, either.” Thomas’ statement to them therefore does not need to be heard as him setting the conditions for his belief. It may simply be a practical prediction of fact.

We need to be equally perceptive about John’s description of Jesus’ later visit to that same locked room. It is a week later when Jesus returns to the eleven, among whom Thomas is present. It is vital to notice what Jesus says to Thomas. It’s even more important to observe how John describes Thomas’ response. Jesus invites Thomas to touch him and to believe. But the Gospel does not say that Thomas has any physical contact with Jesus. It does not tell us that he reaches out, or that he makes an effort to touch Jesus. Instead, and just as Jesus gives him credit for doing, he sees, and then he believes. Just like the prior experience of the other ten!

Rembrandt’s image, like the painting by Carl Bloch, is faithful both to what John tells us, and to what he does not. Observing this, we should refer to this story in John’s Gospel in a different way ~ ‘the doubting disciples, and how they all came to believe.’

 

The above image is of Rembrandt’s (I think mis-titled) painting, The Incredulity of Saint Thomas. This post is based on my homily for Easter 2, April 28, 2019, which can be accessed by clicking here.  Other homilies of mine may be accessed by clicking here. The Revised Common Lectionary, which specifies the readings for Sundays and other Holy Days, can be accessed by clicking here.