READING THOMAS À KEMPIS
(FOR EXAMPLE) 

Recently I began reading one of the classics of western spirituality, “The Imitation of Christ”.  This book was written by a German monk in the early 14oo’s by the name of Thomas à Kempis.  The book examines in great detail what it is to be a Christian.  It is a challenge to any faithful Christian; very humbling and very insightful.  I picked up a very nice edition of it a while back and finally settled in to catch up on a book I should have read long ago.

What I didn’t expect was an introduction to the book by none other than (our very own) John Wesley.  This introduction is an education in itself.  Wesley’s opinion of “The Imitation of Christ” couldn’t have been higher; he felt it should be read and reread with regularity.  No surprise.

However, what I wish to pass on is his emphasis on approaching the book in a remarkably serious way whenever you picked it up to read it.  I think it actually fits the reading of any worthwhile book.  Our attitude needs to be one of expectation of finding real spiritual revelation, of complete openness to the Holy Spirit, of patience, and of intention to read very, very carefully.  Indeed, to be willing to read over and over if necessary until the meaning of the passages is satisfactorily clear.

I believe he emphasizes something we have forgotten in this “Finish it quick and hand me another.” age.  If we take this kind of time, our reading becomes a matter of prayerful consideration, and our reading becomes truly devotional.

In His name,
Rich

Dealing with “What’s There” 

I recently watched a DVD  of an old public TV special on a photographer named Ansel Adams.  He passed away in 1984 and is best known for his large (black and white) stunning photos of mountains and wild landscapes, especially in what became Yosemite National Park.  His photos are dramatic and make most everyone else’s look pretty anemic.  They have become incredibly valuable.

He commented that his goal was to capture nature with the greatest respect, but also admitted that what he looked for and what he saw in the photos he composed in his 8X10 inch view camera was not literally there.

To an artist this makes perfect sense.  The physical reality of a scene always contains a shifting beauty—a “day” looks beautiful, but it is very complex, and to slice off a piece of it, turn it into 2 dimensions instead of 3, and reduce the colors to shades of gray, is a prescription for a pretty dull scene.  The photographer (as artist) looks for a scene which will eventually look a certain way when it’s printed on a piece of paper.  Therefore, a photographer will often see a spectacular panorama before them, but not reach for a camera because they know it will simply not translate into a good photo.

Also… once the photo is taken, the real work begins of making the photo look as good as the photographer knows it can look.  Adam’s photos were highly, HIGHLY manipulated in the darkroom.  He played many skillful tricks with those big negatives to make the prints look as staggering as they do. 

A question arises. In these magnificent photos, are you really seeing the grandeur of nature as God created it, or something else? It should seem obvious that it is art, and that is absolutely not God’s creation, but humankind’s.

Think about this , then…  we are intended to worship.  God has made us this way.  If we do not acknowledge Him, we will worship the creation we create (and that is possible only because of God’s gracious gift).  Art is a great gift, but there is more to God’s intention for us. Let us find joy in the arts, but as well remembering who crates what.

In His name,
Rich