The Archaeology of Faith

The Archaeology of Faith

I’ve long been interested in the iconography of the Orthodox world, as well as the iconography of the Medieval West and the Renaissance. I find great satisfaction in painting copies of images from these periods.

One of the areas of iconography that fascinates me is from the first millennium of the Christian church. This was a time of transition, with the church developing underground before the time of Constantine, only to be legalized in the early fourth century and to experience tremendous growth, to the development of the Greek and Latin traditions that eventually led to the split between the Roman Catholic and Orthodox worlds in the eleventh century.

Mary and the baby Jesus, ca. 500-650 AD.
Copy of an original at the Monastery of St. Catherine at Mt. Sinai.

For iconography, a great deal of transition happened as well. The earliest icons date from the early sixth century, and many are found at the Monastery of St. Catherine at Mount Sinai. This remote monastery is the oldest continually occupied monastery in the world, dating back to the fourth century. It was patronized in the sixth century by the Roman emperor Justinian, who built the main church (which is still standing) and who also built the original walls around the monastery for protection. It is believed by some that Justinian also donated three of the monastery’s oldest icons, which date from the time of his reign.

For two periods during the eighth and ninth centuries the Byzantine emperors at the time banned religious images, and ordered their destruction. Relatively few have survived, and those that have survived display a range of styles very distinct from Byzantine icons as we know them today. Mt. Sinai has a wonderful collection of icons from before the periods of iconoclasm, and since the monastery was outside of the bounds of the Byzantine empire during that time, it is widely believed that icon painting continued there uninterrupted.

Protestants have had a difficult time with religious imagery, especially that of Mary. For us, Mary is trotted out at Christmas and she is put away until the next December. Obviously, that isn’t true for a significant part of the Christian church. For much of the church Mary is in the background of the Christian faith.

Copy of an icon of Mary and the baby Jesus,
ca. 550 AD. Original at the Monastery of St. Catherine at Mt. Sinai.

When I look at a photograph of an ancient icon that has seen the wear and tear, I want to see what it looked like to the people who first used it. With the exception of a few large icons, most of the icons from this period are fairly small, suggesting that they were used for private devotion.

Obviously, a museum (or monastery, in the case of Mt. Sinai) is not going to repaint an ancient icon to look like it did when it was new, so in order to see an image as it was when new, I need to make a copy. This is a fascinating process for me. I start with a digital image, make a panel the size that I need, make a grid on the panel and transfer the image by hand, then paint the copy. Often a portion of the original icon is missing and I have to reconstruct that, which sometimes involves a bit of conjecture.

Icon of Christ blessing, ca 550 AD.
Original at the Monastery of St. Catherine
at Mt. Sinai

With the finished product, I can contemplate it and learn about how the original owner(s) understood the subject. An image can say a great deal about the beliefs of the people who first viewed the image.

It is important with these images to remember that they were not painted just for decoration. For those Christians who use icons liturgically or for private devotion an icon is a window into the reality portrayed by the image. It functions in a similar manner to icons on a computer screen on a phone. By selecting the icon you enter into the world of that image.

I love to learn from artists from the past about what they did and how they did it. This is the archaeology of the Christian faith. We do not just live in the present, but the saints of the past are still with us, and the images they used in worship are still with us. We owe it to them to understand who they were and what they believed, even if we do not share all of those beliefs with them. Their witness to their own faith is the foundation of our own.

Advent: a Season of Peace?

John the Baptist, one of my favorite Biblical figures, appears in the Revised Common Lectionary at the beginning of Advent and Lent. It's not an accident. John is a guidepost, a messenger, sent to call us back to faithful discipleship. The reason for John's appearance is not to comfort us, but to get our attention. There's a lot we need to pay attention to this Advent.

With Advent soon approaching I’m troubled by recent developments across the country. The contrast between a peaceful season of anticipation and joy and blatant hatred is jarring. At this writing our country is experiencing an upsurge in racist and hateful rhetoric. It can be found online on many websites and on social media. It is impossible to avoid unless we completely shut ourselves off from the world. As Christians we believe that in the Incarnation, which we celebrate at Christmas, we celebrate the coming of one who can bring peace and reconciliation to all peoples. Peace and reconciliation doesn’t appear to be high on the agendas of some Christians. Division has invaded this season of peace.

This rhetoric we are hearing falls into the category of “White Supremacy,” often now called “Christian Identity.” In this world view, white people are the only true heirs of the nation of Israel, descended from the so-called ten lost tribes of Israel. In this line of thinking Jews are not the real heirs of Israel and should be eliminated. This is the origin of the idea of “Christian identity,” the notion that the only true Christians are white.

These hate-filled views extend to other races and religious faiths. All other races are seen as sub-human, survivors of a previous creation, and should be forced out of the United States, which is the white homeland. In this particular view, white Americans are superior in breeding. The idea of eugenics, a pseudo-science that evolved in the United States and was picked up by Adolph Hitler in the 1920’s, called for the elimination of inferior races to benefit white Americans. The eugenics movement here and in Europe resulted in mass-sterilization of people of color in prison and in institutions.

There has been a resurgence in violence and hate targeting Muslim Americans as well. This increased dramatically after 9/11 but it has increased even more. Muslims in the United States are being labelled as terrorists even though the vast majority are not. Negative rhetoric against women, LGBT people, and anyone else who isn’t white and male is becoming more prevalent.

At the beginning of Advent, why should I trouble anyone with this trend? Shouldn’t we be thinking about the peace of Christmas, celebrating the gifts that God has given us? Of course. We should also consider “the things that make for peace,” as the prophet Jeremiah puts it. One of those things that make for peace is the affirmation of all people. We can easily get caught up in feelings of goodwill and harmony during this season and forget that it is not a season of peace and happiness for everyone. Our response? Call it for what it is. The Gospel calls for us to be active, not passive.

There is no place for racism and hatred in our Christian faith, despite the efforts of some to characterize the Christian faith as for whites only. At the time of year when we celebrate the gift of peace through Christ we should also work toward bringing that gift of peace to all. The message of reconciliation found in our faith is not just for some, but for everyone.

With an increase in hatred, or perhaps more accurately, an increase in the public expression of hatred, our task as Christians is to examine our own thoughts and attitudes, and to speak out when we hear hateful attitudes expressed, whether that hatred is expressed toward LGBT people, people of color, Muslims, or anyone else.

Our society hears enough words of division on a daily basis. Can we work toward reconciliation, lifting up the good and denouncing hatred wherever it is found? I hope so. Let’s continue to think about what we can do as individuals and as a church to put forth the affirmation that in Christmas we find the affirmation of the sacredness of all life, made known to us in the Incarnation of Christ.

Dr. Stiles' Library

Recently my wife and I were at the Yale University Art Gallery in New Haven and saw a portrait of Dr. Ezra Stiles, who was the President of Yale University from 1778 to 1795. The minute I saw the portrait I knew I had to copy it. The copy is now done, and I thought it would be interesting to unpack the symbolism found in the portrait. The original is 34 inches high, but I opted for a smaller 24 inch height. The portrait was painted in 1771 by a Samuel King when Stiles was 44. At the time he was the pastor of Second Congregational Church in Newport, Rhode Island.  And, much to my disappointment, it turns out that Stiles was a slave owner. Damn. Here he is sitting in his wonderful study, surrounded by books, and he had two slaves.

Stiles was quite interested in biblical languages, and by the time he became President of Yale he was fluent in Hebrew, Aramaic, and Arabic, and even delivered a commencement address in those three languages. As President he was also the first professor of Semitic Languages.

Typically for the time, Stiles had his portrait painted with a bookshelf with the titles clearly marked. This was not intended to be an actual depiction of a bookshelf, just a representation of books he undoubtedly owned. Eighteenth century portraits of clergy often featured such bookshelves, just as portraits of wealthy merchants would sometimes include a stack of ledgers and documents. This portrait has a collection of books that Stiles undoubtedly selected carefully to indicate what the well-educated minister should be reading at that time. From left to right, top to bottom here are the books:

Newton Prin. Isaac Newton, Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica (Latin for "Mathematical Principles of Natural Philosophy"), first published in 1686 and revised in 1713 and 1726. Newton's major work revolutionized science and still is a major influence today. His theories concerning gravity still form the basis for physics.

Plato.  The Greek philosopher needs no introduction. A student of Socrates, Plato developed a form of idealism in which the real world that we know is but a shadow of the ideal world above. His work was very popular in the early history of the Christian Church until the rediscovery of Aristotle's work in the early Middle Ages. Platonic thought even makes its way into the New Testament, in which the author of the Epistle to the Hebrews uses Platonic idealism.

Watts.  Isaac Watts (1674-1748) was a British non-conformist (non-Anglican) minister and is best remembered as the author of many hymns, a number of which are still sung today, such as "Joy to the World," "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," and "O God, Our Help In Ages Past." Watts also wrote poetry. On the spine of this volume appear the names "Hooker" and "Mather," referring to Thomas Hooker (1586-1647), a Congregational minister and the founder of Hartford, Connecticut. "Mather" refers to the three generation line of Boston clergy, including Richard Mather (1596-1669), Increase Mather (1639-1723), and Cotton Mather (1663-1728) who dominated the Boston religious scene for nearly a century.

Dodderidge. Philip Doddridge (1702-1751) was a British non-conformist (non-Anglican) minister, the author of many hymns and books including The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul and the Family Expositor, a 6 volume commentary on the Bible. The spine of this volume also has two names, "Chauncy" and "Cotton."  "Chauncy" is Charles Chauncy (1705-1787), a prominent Boston minister and a leader of the "Old Light" faction that arose during the Great Awakening in opposition to the "New Light" theology of Jonathan Edwards and others. Chauncy and the "Old Lights" emphasized a rational theology that was not based in emotion, in contrast to New Light theology that focused on the need for conversion. "Cotton" refers to John Cotton (1584-1652), yet another prominent Boston minister who was caught up in the Antinomian Controversy of 1636-38 that led to the banishment of Anne Hutchinson and Roger Williams, among others. This controversy focused on the idea of an indwelling God, an idea contrary to the rationalistic theology of the time.

Cudworth Intel. System. Ralph Cudworth (1617-1688) published his The True Intellectual System of the Universe in 1678. Cudworth was a vigorous opponent of materialism and atheism, and saw both in the writings of Thomas Hobbes, author of Leviathan. 

Eusebiu. Hist. Eccl. Eusebius of Caesarea, a bishop in Caesarea in the late third and early fourth century, wrote a number of works including his Ecclesiastical History, which covers the first three centuries of the Christian Church. He also wrote a biography of the emperor Constantine.

Livy  (Titus Livius) wrote a long history of the Roman people beginning with the foundation of Rome through the reign of Augustus. He was often seen as a model historian.

Du Halde’s Hist. of China. Jean-Baptiste Du Halde (1674-1743) was a French Jesuit historian. He published his General History of China in 1735, and it was quickly translated into English and published in 1738. It offered a comprehensive overview of the geography of China along with its history, culture and religion. Du Halde never travelled to China himself, but based his work on the eye witness accounts of a number of Jesuit missionaries.

Rashi’s Commentary on the Talmud. Rabbi Shlomo Itzhaki (known by the acronym “Rashi” (RAbbi SHlomo Itzhaki) lived in France from 1040-1105. His commentaries on the Talmud and the Torah have been influential in the development of Jewish thought since his time.

After looking at this shelf of books, several things become clear. Stiles saw Christian theology and faith in a rational manner. It is telling that the works of Jonathan Edwards do not appear on his shelf, while the name of Charles Chauncy appears on one of the books. Stiles was also very interested in science, hence the presence of Newton’s famous work on his shelf. This brings us to the mysterious symbols to the left of Stiles.

First, the strange design in black on the column to Stiles’ right. This is the pattern of the orbit of a comet. The circle represents the orbit of the Earth around the Sun. The long elliptical orbit is of a comet, which travels far away from the earth before returning. Without a doubt, this is a picture of the orbit of Halley’s Comet, which was first identified by William Halley in 1758. Undoubtedly Dr. Stiles knew about the comet and was interested in the science, again as demonstrated by his interest in Newton.

In the upper left corner of the painting is a turquoise blue disk with the name of God (YHWH) in Hebrew letters at the center. Above the Tetragrammaton, as it is called, are the words “All Happy in God.”  Around the center are three concentric rings of what appear to be meteors or comets rushing away from the center. A cross is at the bottom of the disk with two smaller circles of meteors. One can only assume that the movement of the meteors symbolizes the radiance of God’s name.

This painting is a fascinating look into the mind of one of Connecticut’s most prominent clergy during the 18th century.

From the Past Will Come the Future

I’m in a dour mood today. Don’t read beyond this if you don’t want to be pulled into my dour mood. In a few weeks I will be attending the last reunion at Andover Newton Theological School, where I attended seminary during the 1980’s. It will be a good chance to catch up with friends I haven’t seen in a long time, and a chance tor reflect on the seismic changes happening in the mainline church.

In the last two months more seminaries have announced significant changes. Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts will not grant degrees after this academic year, and their future is uncertain.  Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California plans to demolish all but one building on their campus and build a senior housing complex, while reducing their operation to one building. Andover Newton decided recently to relocate to Yale Divinity School in New Haven, Connecticut. Just a barebones administration and four faculty will relocate. The campus will be sold.

The world of the church that I knew is crumbling at a dismaying rate. I fear that mainline denominations are one and a half generations away from collapse, at best. My generation is aging, and we will all be retired in the next ten years. After that, the second career people will retire, and the younger generation now in seminary will continue for awhile.

I know this sounds dour, but it is happening at an alarming rate. I fear for the church for several reasons. I fear for the loss of an educated clergy. Not because it is traditional, but because it is necessary. It is necessary for clergy to be educated about the Bible. There is more to know than what you can pick up on a few blogs online. Studying the Scriptures takes more than just reading the passage over a few times. For me, it involves reading (in the case of the Old Testament, plowing) through the texts in the original language, reading commentaries, and reflecting on the meaning of the passage. I didn’t learn to do this on my own. I learned it in college and seminary. In another fifty years, who will be left who will do such work? Will the church, what’s left of it, suffer for such a loss?

What will this mean for preaching? In our tradition, this is at the core of worship. We don’t gather just to sing hymns and share announcements. We gather to hear the word of God read and spoken. The read part, from the Scriptures. The exposition of the word, spoken.

In my previous blog entry I wrote about how I use handwritten notes when I preach, and that I don’t read my sermons. That’s because the word is preached by speaking. It is always spoken. How did I learn to do that? I learned it in seminary. Who will teach the next generation to preach? Will preachers in the future just read by rote sermons they found online, canned messages with no connection to the present context? I don’t know.

I will undoubtedly be retired in a decade. I would be able to teach someone how to preach if the need arose, but would there be a demand? Will the church suffer for it? Yes.

The church will suffer because the world we live in is much more complex than it has been in the past. Technology that provides us with marvelous tools also inflicts toxicity, and enables isolation. When we actually talk to one another we don’t always know how to do that other than shout at each other in the way we do on social media.

I fear that God has abandoned the church. Not the church as a whole. The church as we have created it, the church that has been as it is for a couple of centuries.

Natalie Sleeth wrote one of my favorite hymns, “In the Bulb There Is a Flower,” a marvelous reflection on death and resurrection. In the second line she writes, “From the past will come the future; what it holds, a mystery.” I grieve the coming loss of the church as an institution, but I pray that what God will create will continue to preach in witness to the power of the resurrection.

On handwriting in the digital age

I am a dinosaur. I know it, and am proud of it. I am at the age where I can remember life without computers and the Internet. Don’t get me wrong, both are wonderful things. I just remember what life was like without them.

I can remember when it was a big deal when a movie premiered on television. I can remember that each August the Wizard of Oz was on national television, and everything stopped cold. In the slightly previous generation it was said that during the commercials during “I Love Lucy” the water pressure in cities would drop as people used the bathroom and flushed in unison.

And, I still write things by hand. Notes at meetings, and most especially, notes for my sermons.

There are really two ways to preach--one is to read your sermon from a manuscript, or to preach extemporaneously. I do the latter, using anywhere from six to eight pages of handwritten notes. A sample is shown here.

Awhile ago a colleague suggested that because I didn’t write my sermons on my computer and didn’t read them from an iPad, I would be considered old-fashioned. So I am. Let it come. I will retire in about ten years, maybe do a couple of interim positions before retiring completely.

I have been preaching for thirty six years, and have never regretted doing it the way I do. No, it isn’t trendy, and I don’t wear trendy clothes either. If that’s what is going to attract people to my church, then that’s pretty shallow. Although some evidence may argue to the contrary, I refuse to believe that my children’s generation is shallow enough to place image before substance.

Many people don’t write by hand that much. No surprise there. A lot of people don’t read books, either. We have ways of communicating that don’t involve a pen and paper--texting, email, Twitter, and all the other forms of electronic instant gratification. Using pen and paper is becoming a lost art.

So, my use of handwritten notes for preaching is a form of rebellion. It is quaint, I guess. The stylish thing is to use an iPad. I understand, that it’s easier than bringing paper into the pulpit. It’s just a modern version of typing out the sermon. It still leaves me cold. Then again, reading a sermon from paper (or an iPad) leaves me cold too.

A number of years ago a parishoner asked me if I could make a copy of my sermon, as it had resonated with him. I told him that I use handwritten notes, and that he probably wouldn’t be able to read my handwriting. He said that he was able to read pretty bad handwriting. So, I copied the notes for him. He told me the next week that he couldn’t read my handwriting, and he appreciated the effort. I told him I sometimes can’t read my own handwriting either. That’s what appears as a pregnant pause.

People will ask me on a Saturday sometimes if I have my sermon done for the next day. I’ll always say “no.” They will ask when it will be done, and I’ll respond that it will be done when I’m done preaching it.  Preaching is always spoken. It’s another one of those arcane things that we do in the church. It isn’t electronic. It’s me and my handwritten notes talking to a group of people.

I like it that way. I believe they do to. Instead of reading to them, I’m talking to them. That's the bottom line.