Year: 2023 (Page 1 of 2)

The Flight into Egypt by Henry Ossawa Tanner [1859-1937]

The journey of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph to the land of Egypt takes place under the cover of darkness. The fact that it happens ‘by night’ (Matthew 2:14) underscores the urgent note of danger and the threat of death. As the angel announces to Joseph, Herod is seeking to ‘destroy’ the child (Matthew 2:13).

Henry Ossawa Tanner was was the son of a former slave & pastor who fled the southern states for safety in the north later becoming Bishop of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. The artist was haunted by this story of flight, He painted no less than fifteen versions of it. Here, the fugitive character of the Holy Family is clearly foregrounded. With strong shades of blue and the use of shadows to intensify the drama, Tanner heightens the sense of forced migration. Mary’s donkey keeps close to the wall, moving slowly as if to avoid detection. The child is kept close to his mother’s breast, safely secured in her cloak, almost invisible. Joseph brings up the rear, fulfilling his traditional role as protector of the Holy Family. This is a family on the run, their ultimate destination uncertain. Yet there are also visual clues that the fugitive family will find a ready welcome amongst the strangers they encounter. 

First, they are escorted by an anonymous figure, leading them through the darkened streets. The intensity of the light emanating from the lamp he carries, illuminating their path, is a reminder that this child too will be a ‘great light’ for the people dwelling in darkness (Matthew 4:16, quoting Isaiah 9:2). 

Second, the location of this scene is uncertain. Is it Bethlehem? Yet the family has apparently just passed through the gateway (suggested by the arch just visible in the background) into the town. More likely, then, they have arrived at their first port of call, offering a temporary respite from the dangers of Herod’s henchmen.

With thanks to father Patrick van der Vorst of ‘Christian Art’.

First posted in http://contemporaryspirituality.blog

I sense gloom and despondency in the air. Partly it’s directed at our government which seems burnt out & out of control, busy making the mess it’s created worse. Partly it’s despair at the situation in Gaza and Israel, where two sides each with a legitimate cause, their ownership of their land, seem intent in trying to destroy each rather than seeking a peaceful compromise.  Partly it’s despair at the continuing situation in the Ukraine. Of course, we feel helpless to do much about any of these, hence the gloom & despondency.  ‘Where is God in all this?  Why doesn’t He do something about it?’

This painting is entitled ‘Supper at Emmaus’ and Caravaggio painted it in 1602. He was a hugely gifted and theologically perceptive painter with a bit of a reputation for violent behaviour: he often had to leave town in a hurry.

Before we look at the painting, I want to ask you a question. What do you think of as being Jesus most characteristic activity? Healing, suffering, calling, teaching, listening, praying or whatever?  Having answered that, park your answer to one side for a moment.

I met recently with a friend who is having to rest and recover through the summer & into the autumn, after a spell in hospital suffering from a debilitating illness. The strange thing was, he said, that he’d planned some months before to clear his diary for those months in order to take life more easily. It was almost as if an unconscious something within him knew what was coming & had prepared him for it.

An online retreat day for Advent

December 9th or 16th 2023

The words of the well loved Advent carol O come, O come Emmanuel have a distinctly biblical feel, differing from the more overtly celebratory tone of most carols that we hear at this time of the year.  For example, the actual nativity narrative doesn’t feature and there are no herald angels nor flocks being watched by night. 

This painting “Skull and Candle”is by Gerard Richter, a German painter born in 1932. It’s a reflection on life and death.  The lit candle symbolises life, and the life-less human skull symbolises death.  Paradoxically, without the light of the candle or another light source, we would not be able to see the skull, and without the brain residing in our skull, we wouldn’t be aware of the light. The two need each other: candle & skull, life & death.  

I’ve been writing pieces on this web-site for about ten years now, and earlier this year a friend suggested that I might usefully go back and re-read them all. So I set myself a Lenten task to do so, and was agreeably surprised.  Sufficiently to decide to make them all more easily available.

With help from family and friends I’ve created a blog that contains them all in order and also grouped together in themes. 

You can find it at https://contemporaryspirituality.blog

Do have a look at it. I’d welcome your reflections, and if you think it a useful resource do draw it to the attention of anyone you know who might find it helpful.   Thank you.  Henry

I enjoy looking at paintings. They often slip under my guard and take me by surprise. I sense that they speak and my soul hears them before the rest of me catches up. One painting that does this for me is this one.

The Church has a tendency to make simple things difficult, like prayer & faith, both of which are simple in principle but challenging in practice. Society has a tendency to trivialise important things like miracles and angels. I’ve written about ’Everyday Miracles’, so now I’m going to write “In defence of Angels”.

School nativity plays have not served us well here, but they are only copying much great art. The problem is easy to state but less easy to resolve. How do you visually depict an angel appearing to Mary or Joseph or a group of shepherds, without appearing ridiculous?