One of the
things that I have grown to love about living in the DC-metro area is the
collection of art museums; especially the fact that so many of them do not
charge an entrance fee. Unfortunately, I am a novice when it comes to
appreciating art. I never took a class in college, and have never considered
myself much of a visual artist. I gave up even trying to draw years ago due to
the frustration of how what was in my head never seemed to come close to making
it to the paper. I would like to think, however, that I am observant, though.
And one thing I have noticed as I've progressed from taking in classic to
modern art, is the progression in what human beings conceive as beautiful in
the human form. For all of that, there are numerous examples and videos out
there of how body images in art can either be damaging or empowering, but there
is something specific I would like to talk about.
In classic
art, the connection between purity and beauty is obvious with the images of
Renaissance models with their inhumanly fair skin. Recently, there has been
some protest and artistic commentary that has tried to show that scars also
carry a unique beauty all their own. Many of the most poignant revolve around
those who have struggled with suicide and self-harm, helping to remove the
stigma and exclusion that so often surrounds those who suffer in silence. Also,
when we remove the stigma of scars, we bring into the conversation the beauty
of life itself. The beauty found in living and experiencing life, both in the
tragic and ecstatic moments that fill our individual histories.
In the
Church, experiencing the beauty that is everyday life is not something we are
good at. In fact, for the majority of our history, in sermons, songs, and
theology, we still rely on the connection of purity with beauty. Often, our
experiences and reminiscences of reconciliation and healing contain the same default
to purity. When we speak of things, "being made new," the imagery we
use imagery like taking an old cracked vase and restoring it to the way it was.
But is that really "new?"
Merriam-Webster would define "new" as "having
recently come into existence."
While there
is a marked difference between the terms "new," "heal,"
"restore," or "reconcile," I would posit that they are
often used interchangeably. For instance, last Sunday was Pentecost, and one of
the oft-used images of the Pentecost event in sermons is connecting it to the
story of Babel . They become two
parts to one story. God sunders the people at Babel
by confusing their language, and at Pentecost, the moment where the Apostles
participate in speaking in tongues is the reconciling moment for humanity. Or
the moment where the separation wrought at Babel
is "healed," bringing together a new community that serves God.
But what
kind of healing is this? Many churches will employ the services of members who
speak languages other than English in the reading of the Scripture on
Pentecost. Often, the speakers take turns reading sections of the story,
followed by the main English readers so the congregation can hear the story.
Because of the way language works, those separate readings can take a long
time. Sometimes, some languages require more words to translate the same
thoughts, but the point is that in the Acts story they are different languages.
If this is how Babel is
"healed," it is a healing that doesn't put things back the way they
were.
Pentecost
leaves humanity with scars. Though something new definitely comes in the moment
of the Church's birth, and humanity is united through the power of the Spirit,
God's creation still carries scars from Babel .
The arrival of the Spirit is does not usher in a new language that replaces all
the sundered languages of the scattered people whose pride lead them to build a
tower to God. No one's native language, not even the language of those who were
the first to follow Jesus is chosen above the travelers who have come from
across the Roman empire . The text tells us that people
were instead amazed to here these Galileans speaking different languages.
It seems Pentecost may unite us in the Spirit, but it
doesn't make us the same.
Today, we
speak often of diversity and the effects of cultural diversity on American
Society. Violence against immigrants and members of minority religious groups
is on the rise as some of our more violent citizens believe that everyone
should just get in line and assimilate. "Speak the language," someone
may yell in a supermarket when they here a language other than English. Others
may lament that every customer service phone number now has an option to hear
the menus in another language. While still others lament that the directions
for the new electronics they just purchased have texts and scripts they do not
recognize. I've even heard one person complain about how Bible Gateway, an
online Bible search engine, lists the languages alphabetically instead of
putting English at the top of the list.
We want
Pentecost to be a healing story, but then we look at a world where differences
abound. We speak of how the movement of the Spirit heals us from the pain of Babel ,
but this "new" thing that has been brought into being is not like the
thing we had before. Pentecost highlights how God can cross our differences,
and embrace them. The Spirit reaches into all languages, communicating the same
love no matter the words someone may use, and yet God leaves the scars of Babel
in our throats.
Beauty and Healing, just like humanity, carry scars.
Because God things scars are beautiful.
