Sermon
8th March 26
I want to think about how we read our bibles. I guess that some of you do so with the aid of a commentary, which sets out the context of the reading, something about appropriate history and/or geography, and suggestions for reflection, prayer and, maybe, further study. I’m not in a position to recommend any: I’m out of touch now that I am no longer responsible for confirmation classes and study groups.
All I can do today, as I did with prayer last week, is to talk about what works for me. And what works for me is pictures. If I want to get into a passage of Scripture, I need to picture the scene. Some of those pictures may be of places that I have visited on pilgrimage; others are influenced by paintings that I have seen. Using pictures to tell the Bible story is nothing new. We find bible scenes painted in the Roman catacombs from the late second century onwards. We know the fabulous mosaics in Ravenna from the 5th and 6th centuries, the fresco cycles made in Catholic Churches from the Middle ages, and those beautiful icons that have enriched Orthodox Churches for centuries.
But how can we use pictures to help our study of Scripture? Let’s take a concrete example. I started working on this sermon two weeks ago today, on the first Sunday of Lent. The gospel that day was about the devil tempting Jesus in the wilderness. I’ve travelled that long road down from Jerusalem to the Dead Sea many times and can easily picture the Judeaen wilderness which is considerably hillier than depicted by most artists. As for Jesus and the devil, which I need to add to complete my mental picture, they are heavily influenced by one of two scenes from the rear predella panel of Duccio’s Maesta, made 700 years ago for Siena Cathedral.
Once I have my picture in my mind, I try to imagine myself in the scene, purely as an observer. I watch and listen, following at a distance as they move to the Jerusalem Temple, and then to that mountain top. As I meditate on those pictures, and reflect on the words of Jesus, I get caught in the scene, and can meditate, letting those words of Jesus speak to me.
On other occasions, I need someone else to suggest a picture. I subscribe to a free email called Christian Art. Every day, there is a painting, a bible reading, and a reflection on both the scripture passage and the picture. As we are thinking about the temptations of Jesus in the wilderness, you will find the complete entry for that day on the sermon page of our website. I’d never seen the painting before. It was made 15 years ago by the American artist Eric Armusik and, in the words of Fr Patrick (whose website it is) “presents the desert encounter not simply as a narrative moment but as an intense psychological struggle”. Some days these articles are very helpful; on other days, particularly when he looking at various saints, not as much so. But Fr Patrick’s approach may help suggest a fresh way into reading scripture.
In the end, it must be what works for you. Be that a traditional commentary, building up your own picture of the scene, or using pictures made by others. Reading our bibles is important for, as our Eucharistic Preface during Lent reminds us, “through study of your holy word, you open our eyes to your presence in the world, and free our hands to welcome others into the radiant splendour of your love”.
Amen
For the Gospel reading and reflections on this painting,
please click HERE to be directed to the Christian Art website
I used an example in this sermon based on the familiar Gospel reading for the first Sunday in Lent, partly because that passage was in my mind at the beginning of Lent when I started on this sermon, and because it is so familiar.
Today’s Gospel reading (Jesus and the Samaritan Woman, John 4: 5-42) is a complicated passage with several themes, all of which need at least one sermon. As I read through it, I am finding that the picture which helps me most with this passage is that by Angelica Kaufmann, normally kept in Munich but which I saw a couple of years ago in the exhibition of her work at the Royal Academy.
Angelica was born in Switzerland in 1741, and died in Rome in 1807.
However, she spent many years living and working in England. She was of only two female founding members of the Royal Academy in 1768.
The painting, made in 1796, shows Jesus and the Samaritan Woman debating as equals. This makes a change from most representations of the scene with which I am familiar, in which Jesus is mansplaining. He is normally depicted either standing whilst the woman sits on the edge of the well, or sitting on the well with the woman kneeling at his feet. There is a mutual respect in Kaufmann’s painting. It was, of course, made at a time when the overwhelming number of leading artists were male, and brings a female perspective.