(Re-posted for editing purposes, from April 2008)
This gentle cynic recently found himself working out the idea of “being sent” as he entered the threshold of completing his MDIV at Eastern Mennonite Seminary and entering the complex world as one sent to minister in some purposeful way. The thoughts below have become a way to express his own sense of movement and to declare before his seminary community during their Baccalaureate his own present sense of mission—something that has come through much constructive critique, formative influences and struggle.
Some influential images in this particular episode of discerning what it means to be sent, have emerged from the artistic work of Andrew Wyeth. What is shared below is this gentle cynic’s way of sharing a recent glimpse into his own musing and grappling with the discernment of movement and mission; i.e., being sent (Baccalaureate theme included the reading of the Scriptural text of John 20:21-22).
Andrew Wyeth reminds me a little of myself, while his complex work reveals themes which have been a part of my seminary journey. Wyeth is one who began his work constructing an image of himself as “a contented loner, a modern-day Henry Thoreau, who sought inspiration from rural and coastal landscapes; only to see his work transformed as it progressed into interconnected themes of life and death, and time and eternity.
His ‘”pure” unpeopled landscapes’ took on profound human presence where he portrayed the physical lives and intense feelings of people, such as his work surrounding the Olson family and their dilapidated home which includes his famous Christina’s World, a scene which appears to be a young, thin women reclining in a field while looking up at her home just above the hill; when actually it portrays an aging women who had a disability that left her unable to walk; proudly refusing a wheelchair, she resorted to dragging her body around when her legs became permanently disabled.
Wyeth’s numerous works try to speak into harsh realities and embrace the complexities of life—the humorous, beautiful, painful, simple and tragic—while reflecting on the mystery and seasons of life, much of which have become a part of my rhythm of reflection as I am sent into a world filled with harsh realities and complexities.
Connected with this kind of awareness, I am summoned to believe, imagine, and serve knowing the transcending and far-reaching peace which Jesus Christ has promised and fulfills—the Shalom of God*, which when faithfully held before us yields perceptive imaginations, interpretive vision, unique solutions, and leaps of faith that are in tune with God’s creative and redemptive ways.
One of Wyeth’s lesser known works, Schooner Aground, depicts a scene that speaks into my experience of renewal in relation to the church and world. In the foreground are a host of people spread out presumably from the local coastal community along with some militia, all of which are watching a steam-powered tugboat (smoke billowing out of its stack) trying to pull out a grounded three masted schooner from the rocky shoreline. What stands out for me is a small boat (possibly
a row boat) out at sea having a vague figure who seems to have his back turned against the struggling tug and is facing elsewhere—the smallest of the three vessels and yet the only one that is moving somewhere with purpose while not being preoccupied nor sidetracked by the surrounding activity. It is a vessel free to move unencumbered by the wider activities and the community of spectators. It is a vessel that yearns for the open waters; it’s on a mission. my experience of renewal in relation to the church and world. In the foreground are a host of people spread out presumably from the local coastal community along with some militia, all of which are watching a steam-powered tugboat (smoke billowing ).
With increasing concentration and influence over the last several months, I have considered what ministry might look like for me and have found myself content to pursue “bi-vocational” ministry; i.e., faithfully participating in the church as an alternative society—whatever that may look like—while faithfully serving the world directly through a vocation which allows me to invest in others with gifts I possess and have cultivated. Thus, both church and a specific vocation should make use of my gifts at places of margin and boundaries where I and others might move in and out of providing connections for ministry, resources, rest, and partnerships, where transformations are wanting to happen, and where a claim of God’s rule—God’s shalom—against the momentum of injustice and “the powers” is needed.
Sources:
* Ben Wenn and Adam D. Weinberg, Unknown Terrain: The Landscapes of Andrew Wythe (New York: Whitney Museum of Art, 1998), 12.
Anne Claussen Knutson, “Andrew Wyeth’s Language of Things” in Memory and Magic (New York: Rizzoli, 2005), 70.
Images of Andrew Wyeth’s works: Image 1, Baleen, 1982; Image 2, Christina’s World, 1948; Image 3 Schooner Aground
* Shalom of God speaks of a promised and emerging profound salvation of every aspect of God's creation, which, of course, includes humanity. There is in this meaning a deep sense of welfare, peace, soundness, and deliverance that transcends any institutional or nationalistic notion.
This gentle cynic recently found himself working out the idea of “being sent” as he entered the threshold of completing his MDIV at Eastern Mennonite Seminary and entering the complex world as one sent to minister in some purposeful way. The thoughts below have become a way to express his own sense of movement and to declare before his seminary community during their Baccalaureate his own present sense of mission—something that has come through much constructive critique, formative influences and struggle.
Some influential images in this particular episode of discerning what it means to be sent, have emerged from the artistic work of Andrew Wyeth. What is shared below is this gentle cynic’s way of sharing a recent glimpse into his own musing and grappling with the discernment of movement and mission; i.e., being sent (Baccalaureate theme included the reading of the Scriptural text of John 20:21-22).
Andrew Wyeth reminds me a little of myself, while his complex work reveals themes which have been a part of my seminary journey. Wyeth is one who began his work constructing an image of himself as “a contented loner, a modern-day Henry Thoreau, who sought inspiration from rural and coastal landscapes; only to see his work transformed as it progressed into interconnected themes of life and death, and time and eternity.
His ‘”pure” unpeopled landscapes’ took on profound human presence where he portrayed the physical lives and intense feelings of people, such as his work surrounding the Olson family and their dilapidated home which includes his famous Christina’s World, a scene which appears to be a young, thin women reclining in a field while looking up at her home just above the hill; when actually it portrays an aging women who had a disability that left her unable to walk; proudly refusing a wheelchair, she resorted to dragging her body around when her legs became permanently disabled.
Wyeth’s numerous works try to speak into harsh realities and embrace the complexities of life—the humorous, beautiful, painful, simple and tragic—while reflecting on the mystery and seasons of life, much of which have become a part of my rhythm of reflection as I am sent into a world filled with harsh realities and complexities.
Connected with this kind of awareness, I am summoned to believe, imagine, and serve knowing the transcending and far-reaching peace which Jesus Christ has promised and fulfills—the Shalom of God*, which when faithfully held before us yields perceptive imaginations, interpretive vision, unique solutions, and leaps of faith that are in tune with God’s creative and redemptive ways.
One of Wyeth’s lesser known works, Schooner Aground, depicts a scene that speaks into my experience of renewal in relation to the church and world. In the foreground are a host of people spread out presumably from the local coastal community along with some militia, all of which are watching a steam-powered tugboat (smoke billowing out of its stack) trying to pull out a grounded three masted schooner from the rocky shoreline. What stands out for me is a small boat (possibly
a row boat) out at sea having a vague figure who seems to have his back turned against the struggling tug and is facing elsewhere—the smallest of the three vessels and yet the only one that is moving somewhere with purpose while not being preoccupied nor sidetracked by the surrounding activity. It is a vessel free to move unencumbered by the wider activities and the community of spectators. It is a vessel that yearns for the open waters; it’s on a mission. my experience of renewal in relation to the church and world. In the foreground are a host of people spread out presumably from the local coastal community along with some militia, all of which are watching a steam-powered tugboat (smoke billowing ).With increasing concentration and influence over the last several months, I have considered what ministry might look like for me and have found myself content to pursue “bi-vocational” ministry; i.e., faithfully participating in the church as an alternative society—whatever that may look like—while faithfully serving the world directly through a vocation which allows me to invest in others with gifts I possess and have cultivated. Thus, both church and a specific vocation should make use of my gifts at places of margin and boundaries where I and others might move in and out of providing connections for ministry, resources, rest, and partnerships, where transformations are wanting to happen, and where a claim of God’s rule—God’s shalom—against the momentum of injustice and “the powers” is needed.
Sources:
* Ben Wenn and Adam D. Weinberg, Unknown Terrain: The Landscapes of Andrew Wythe (New York: Whitney Museum of Art, 1998), 12.
Anne Claussen Knutson, “Andrew Wyeth’s Language of Things” in Memory and Magic (New York: Rizzoli, 2005), 70.
Images of Andrew Wyeth’s works: Image 1, Baleen, 1982; Image 2, Christina’s World, 1948; Image 3 Schooner Aground
* Shalom of God speaks of a promised and emerging profound salvation of every aspect of God's creation, which, of course, includes humanity. There is in this meaning a deep sense of welfare, peace, soundness, and deliverance that transcends any institutional or nationalistic notion.
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