Lent 2016
Study material for individuals and groups, reflecting on the Methodist Modern Art Collection
Welcome… I am delighted that Lincoln Cathedral is hosting the Methodist Modern Art Collection throughout Lent 2016. It is one of the finest collections of modern religious art in the UK, and when the Diocese of Lincoln and Lincoln Cathedral agreed to work with the Lincolnshire Methodist District in bringing the works to Lincolnshire we wanted to make the most of its time with us in the county. One way of doing so was to produce a study booklet for weekly small group discussions or individual reflection based on five works contained within the collection. I am grateful to the Rt Revd Christopher Lowson, Bishop of Lincoln, my colleague and friend, for joining me in providing the reflections for this project. Much of the collection was put together in the 1960s at the initiative of Dr John Gibbs, who believed it to be important for the Church to develop its understanding and appreciation of art. Dr Gibbs approached the Revd Douglas Wollen, a former minister of his church in Penarth, who had a great interest in visual art. In more recent years several works have been added. It is most appropriate that the exhibition is held in Lent as many of the works in the collection are inspired by events surrounding the Passion; hence the title of our exhibition, Passion in Paint. I would strongly encourage you to take a look at the website www.methodist.org.uk/ static/artcollection/index.htm to get a fuller flavour of what will be exhibited in the Chapter House. Having done so, I am confident that you will want to see them at first hand. From my past experience of hosting the exhibition in Taunton, I know that some visitors choose to return, and even return again, to stand before a painting that draws them into something beyond words.
As well as publishing this booklet, we have also created study books for primary and secondary schools across the diocese and an introductory film that will be available to view online; please see the diocesan and Methodist district websites for the link. The Collection in Lincoln is partnering us in the exhibition and will host three of the works, and so it has been thoroughly rewarding to cooperate in this venture together. On behalf of each partner, I pray God’s blessing upon your viewing, your discussions and your reflections. The Revd Bruce Thompson Chair of the Lincolnshire Methodist District At the exhibition there will be an opportunity to purchase a copy of A Guide to the Methodist Art Collection (£5), published by Methodist Publishing. Post cards will also be available for sale.
Opening worship The following is a resource for prayer and worship for use around your individual or group study of the artwork and the accompanying reflection.
Psalm 34:1, 4–5, 8 1 I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.
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Look to him and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed.
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You might wish to begin with a short time of silence and to include a space for your own prayers prior to offering the prayer inspired by Vienna Cobb Anderson. You will note that there is also an opportunity to listen to a particular piece of music, if that is appropriate for your setting. For the conclusion of your time of study and reflection you may wish to use the prayer offered by the Revd Dr Helen Hooley. Let us pray: Open the eyes of the blind. Open our eyes, O Lord. Open our eyes to see wondrous things. Open our eyes, O Lord. Open our eyes to recognize you. Open our eyes, O Lord.
O taste and see that the Lord is good; happy are those who take refuge in him.
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You might wish to listen to a piece of music called ‘Taste and See’ (by Joanne Boyce and Mike Stanley). Creator God, we ask your blessings on all artists who use their gifts to make the world a more beautiful place. They say a picture paints a thousand words. Help us to learn through their work to see the truth around us more clearly. As we reflect on the inspiration of the artist, may we find the voice of the Spirit in the wonder and awe we feel. Through the vision of the artist, may we learn to seek for Christ in the stranger’s face, and in the face of those around us. Bless us as we meet together with you. Open our eyes to see you. Amen. Inspired by a prayer by Vienna Cobb Anderson: www.beliefnet.com/Prayers/Protestant/Work/ Prayer-For-Artists.aspx
A prayer for use at the end of your time of reflection We thank you, Lord, that you have given us a glimpse of your glory; that you have opened our eyes to new possibilities. Go with us as we go out from here. And help us to see you in the world around us. We ask this in the name of Christ. Amen. (A prayer by the Revd Dr Helen Hooley.)
Week One – The Rt Revd Christopher Lowson, Bishop of Lincoln As you prepare to reflect, you might find it helpful to read Matthew 14:13–21 ‘Fed by Jesus’ The story of Jesus multiplying the loaves and fishes to feed four or five thousand people appears in all four gospels. We are told that Clarke had St Matthew’s account in mind when creating this painting. We know this because uniquely in Matthew’s account and Clarke’s portrayal women and children are present. And in choosing that version, where there is a closer crossrepresentation of contemporary society, the painting speaks more directly to us. The art-historical commentator makes the point that the scene looks more like a church picnic today than a depiction of an historical biblical scene – which in reality would have looked very different. And the contemporary connection is deepened by the fact that they aren’t in fact eating a staple food from the first century, but perhaps its contemporary equivalent: fish and chips. The picture was commissioned by the catholic chaplaincy at the University of Southampton for its chapel, and it speaks powerfully to me at a personal level because fourteen years of my ministry were spent in Hampshire, where my wife worked at Southampton General Hospital for most of that time. The common where the picnic happened could be in Southampton. It could just as easily have been in Portsmouth where my family and I (sometimes with church groups) enjoyed some lovely picnics. And that, of course, is part of the point. It was commissioned for a chapel in Hampshire, but the scene could just as well be anywhere in Greater Lincolnshire. The point of the miracle may be something about what God can do with modest resources – in this instance a few loaves and fishes. In God’s terms, the sum of the parts is greater
than the individual parts. This is a helpful metaphor for the life of a Christian disciple. We can follow Jesus alone – and there is a muchrespected Christian tradition of the hermit, living apart from the world in order to bring the world to God in a special way. We need only think of two of Lincolnshire’s saints, Hugh and Guthlac, who spent time as hermits. But most of us come to God in community – the sum of the parts being, we hope and pray, greater than the individual parts, and coming to God in community is what we call the Church – on earth and in heaven. If Eularia Clarke had chosen to reflect on St John’s account it may have been a different picture. It may have looked less inclusive, but the connection with the contemporary experience of Christians eating and drinking together in community – this is what we call the Eucharist – would have been stronger. John, who most scholars think wrote his gospel later than Matthew, Mark and Luke, certainly had the bread of the Eucharist in mind when he crafted his story. And the relevance of the story for the Christian today is that just as Jesus fed the crowd with bread, he feeds us his followers today with himself, ‘the bread of life’. The bread with which he feeds us is the resource we need to provide nourishment on our journey into his new kingdom of love and justice and peace. Time for reflection Three questions arise in my mind as I reflect on this painting: • How cross-representative are our communities of faith? John omitted women and children from his biblical story; what groups of people are missing from our communities? • Where in our lives do we find moments alone with God? • How do we allow God to feed us, his community, gathered together?
For some brief biographical notes on Eularia Clarke please see the reflection for Week Two. Further information is contained within A Guide to the Methodist Art Collection and at www.methodist.org.uk/static/artcollection/ index.htm
Eularia Clarke/The five thousand from the Methodist Modern Art Collection, Š TMCP, used with permission.
Week Two – The Revd Bruce Thompson, Chair, Lincolnshire Methodist District As you prepare to reflect, you might find it helpful to read Luke 8:22–25 ‘Stilling of the Storm’ The logo for the World Council of Churches is a boat that appears to be anchored in still waters. Because the mast is a cross there is no sail and therefore the boat is unable to be set in motion by wind. A further problem for me is that the waters seem to be very still. For these reasons, especially the latter, I have always found the logo to be unhelpful. The Church is not anchored in still waters; for me it is battling through successive storms and has been doing so for some years now. When I trained for the ministry in the 1980s the Church was still reeling from the Honest to God debate of two decades earlier, in which the then Bishop of Woolwich, John Robinson, had merely put into readily understood terms the theological debates from much earlier in the century. But being accessible, and in an affordable paperback, the debate passed from the corridors of academia into the pews and study groups of the local church. All sorts of other factors came into play at the same time, increasing secularisation and materialism, the development of the sciences, including ‘man’ in space, and so much more. The Church took a battering; wave after wave bashed the boat and tossed it from side to side. Eularia Clarke’s extraordinary work ‘Storm over the lake’ captures the fear, desperation and horror of those who had been travelling in a boat that has suddenly begun to sink. The outline of the vessel can just be made out, with hands gripping now almost hidden sides. People cling to one another; one holds a child close to her; a foot pushes against the head of a fellow struggler; one hand cradles the head
of another; and someone grips the hair of someone next to them. Maybe one reason for my interest in this painting can be traced back to my childhood when I watched the 1958 film A Night to Remember, which is a captivating depiction of the sinking of the Titanic that was made long before the film that featured Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio stood at the bow of the doomed liner. Equally so, today we may be haunted by images of migrants fleeing Syria and elsewhere crammed onto dinghies fit only for leisure purposes but which have now been put to use as its passengers risk all in the Mediterranean. A second reason why this painting draws me in is that for a long time now I have seen the Church struggling to get to its destination in an age of bewildering change and unforeseen threats. Members of the Church often feel that their boat is sinking without trace. We cling to one another, we cry out in despair, we even stand on one another in order to keep our own particular perspective on the Gospel, or understanding of what it is to be Church, alive. We are drowning. Eularia Clarke also captures the hope that the disciples found in Jesus. Having awoken him from his sleep, his presence stills the storm and those who a few moments before had thought that there was little or no hope are saved. Note the image below his hand; is this a dove? Churches often claim that they know Jesus to be alive whilst preferring to keep him asleep in the stern. Many prefer to rely on their own knowledge, experience and expertise to get through a crisis. A wide-awake Jesus could be a threat to the way we have been doing things. He is left asleep until the last desperate minute. If only we had awoken him earlier.
Time for reflection You may now wish to also read Mark 4.35–41 What are the waves that bash against today’s Church? Could they overwhelm the boat? How might we journey across the lake of life in the face of such storms?
Eularia Clarke was born in London in 1914 and died in 1970. It is said that her religious paintings are often described as being reminiscent of Stanley Spencer. As the website eulariaclarke.com relates, Storm over the Lake and another work, The Five Thousand, were sold by Eularia to the Methodist Modern Art Collection in 1965.
Identify one of the characters depicted in the painting. What does this say to you? Is it something that speaks to your own experience? Who is drowning today? How can the Church awaken a Jesus that will address their needs?
Eularia Clarke/Storm over the lake from the Methodist Modern Art Collection, © TMCP, used with permission.
Week Three – The Revd Bruce Thompson, Chair, Lincolnshire Methodist District As you prepare to reflect, you might find it helpful to read John 5:2–13 ‘Stillness amongst suffering’ Edward Burra’s painting captures the sheer torture and agony, the distress and depravity, the chaos and confusion of those who suffer. It was produced just a few years after the horror of the Holocaust became known and the grey, drab, near-naked figures in the background in some way resemble the survivors found by the liberators wandering in a nightmare of aimlessness. In the painting Jesus is in the midst of it all, hands outstretched seeking to bring calmness of spirit and stillness of body. When some form of disease comes upon us, our world often closes in on us; some of the things that we were once troubled by become of less interest, and as the difficulties develop then that world becomes smaller still until little or nothing outside of ourselves is important. In an attempt to remain open to what else is going on, a familiar response may be offered by the sufferer: ‘at least there are others worse off than me’. Stoic yes, but it doesn’t reduce the pain and anguish. There may even come a point when the world is no longer concerned about the situation we find ourselves in; those about us reach a level of indifference and we feel overlooked, ignored and unwanted. The experience of the man who had sat for many years at the side of the Pool of Bethesda must have caused him to believe that he had reached that point. The impact of the presence of Jesus, his appearance at the man’s side, must have taken time to sink in; it couldn’t have been instant yet it would have far-reaching consequences.
‘How long must we sing this song?’ begs the Psalmist when reflecting upon the distress of being an exile in a foreign land. Who could say when freedom would come? Who can say when our suffering will end? I knew a man who once claimed his grandma had said ‘If you don’t treat a cold it’ll last seven days; if you do treat it, it’ll only last a week.’ If only we could be so certain, if we could eliminate that aspect of our pain it may be slightly easier to bear. Time for reflection What have people said to you in your time of suffering that has consoled you? Or made the pain harder to bear? A proverb suggests that ’a thousand words may not be enough but one out of place is one too many’. What does this mean to you? ‘Time will heal’. Does it? Is it words, or is it presence that offers the most consolation? What do the two shafts of light in the painting convey to you? Why do you think there are some figures in colour?
Edward Burra was born in London in 1905 and died in 1976. It has been written that Burra worked in watercolour in the majority of his work, often on a large scale.
The pool of Bethesda by Edward Burra. Copyright Estate of the Artist, c/o Lefevre Fine Art Ltd, London.
Week Four – The Rt Revd Christopher Lowson, Bishop of Lincoln As you prepare to reflect, you might find it helpful to read John 12:12–15 ‘The presence of Jesus’ This painting depicts the triumphant entry of Jesus into Jerusalem on, what we would call two thousand years later, Palm Sunday and the beginning of Holy Week. It is a moment in history that Christians often re-enact in ecumenical processions of witness, and often within the Palm Sunday liturgy itself. We also recall it every time we celebrate the Eucharist when, in the middle of the Eucharistic Prayer itself, we say or sing, ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord; Hosanna in the highest’ – words we first encounter in the gospel accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. One of my most poignant moments as a young priest was presiding at a Eucharist in Cape Coast in Ghana for a lively congregation of several thousand who, at that particular moment in the liturgy, held up their freshlylaundered, crisp, white handkerchiefs to wave in a greeting to Jesus, present in the bread and wine of the Eucharist. That congregation was remembering the action of those in the biblical narrative who greeted Jesus on his donkey with palm fronds as he entered the city to face suffering and death. Of course, one of the ironies of this story is that it was probably the same crowd who, less than a week later, were calling for Jesus’ execution. Adams’ painting portrays a colourful and confusing scene – just as I imagine the original scene would have been. The painting does not depict a well-marshalled procession of witness; instead, there are people everywhere, moving in contrary directions. It is a chaotic scene: a joyful celebration rather than a controlled rally. It is not obvious where Jesus is present in the picture; you have to look patiently and carefully to discern his presence and his direction of travel.
The painting is not a straightforward narrative presentation of an historical event, but a pastiche of both contemporary and historical experience presented in a topsy-turvy way. It looks a bit like the front section of the audience at the Last Night of the Proms. The presence of the flags of the United Kingdom, Germany and Sweden indicate a contemporary dimension, but in a way that subverts naïve jingoism. Time for reflection Three questions arise in my mind as I reflect on this painting: • Where are the moments of unalloyed joy and celebration in our lives when we encounter Jesus? What is our equivalent of those Ghanaians waving their handkerchiefs, and taking the biblical story and bringing it alive in their own context? • As we view the painting we struggle to find and see Jesus; we don’t immediately notice his direction of travel. Are there experiences in our lives where on reflection we know that Jesus was present but we failed to notice him or didn’t have the patience to look more carefully? • How does this painting challenge our inward-looking national self-consciousness? Are we always aware that we belong to ‘another country’?
Norman Adams was born in Walthamstow in 1927. He died in 2005 and his obituary in The Telegraph described him as ‘one of the liveliest forces in British painting both as an artist and as a teacher’. This particular painting was commissioned for the Methodist Collection in 1990.
Norman Adams/Christ’s entry into Jerusalem from the Methodist Modern Art Collection, Š TMCP, used with permission.
Week Five – The Revd Bruce Thompson, Chair, Lincolnshire Methodist District As you prepare to reflect, you might find it helpful to read Matthew 27:32-44 ‘The Crucified one’ The loneliness of suffering is often agony beyond words. Which is why music and art can sometimes be the only means available to us of conveying the pain. A penetrating wail from deep within the body can communicate more than a thousand words, be they formed as prose or poetry. Similarly, a deafening silence can speak clearly of acute distress. Theyre Lee-Elliott’s ‘Crucified tree form – the agony’ stands in a long tradition of portraying the loneliness of the suffering Christ. The lyrics of hymns accompanied by an emotive tune can draw us close to Golgotha, but an image such as this is stark in the extreme. Some of us may have grown up with a more beautified crucifix; the white Europeanlooking Messiah somehow gracefully balanced on carefully smoothed timber, perfectly symmetrical in a kind of ordered drama. But of course the event itself was nothing of the sort. The slap-handedness of the executioners going about their daily job, driving nails through tendons and bones of wrists and ankles into wood already stained with blood from previous usage. If an attempt can be made to convey the visual impact of such a scene, the stench is impossible to replicate. Lee-Elliott picks up on the isolation and the silence, the abandonment and forlorn nature of the Crucified One as effectively as any other attempt I have seen. The drooping arms, the head too heavy for such a weakened neck to lift, and the exposed rib cage serves as a graphic presentation of the trauma of torture. The body itself is depicted in the form of a tree; the tree of life is now cut down in its prime, and the trunk is lifeless and rigid.
Whenever I look at this painting I cannot help but see the crucified Christ as one who is stranded in ‘No Man’s Land’, somewhere between the trenches of one side facing the trenches of another. There is something about the First World about it; the barbed wire draped across the body; the dark smudges effect the presence of smoke from battle; the featureless face conjures up the possibility that he is just another victim amongst the countless many. In this there is an element of solidarity. Christ suffers our suffering, experiences our loneliness and dies our death. Having visited the National Memorial Arboretum in Staffordshire, and having stood amongst the many monuments to the fallen, Lee-Elliott’s painting has taken on an additional perspective for me. There towards the back of the site is the ‘Shot at Dawn’ memorial which commemorates the 306 British Army and Commonwealth soldiers executed after courts-martial for desertion and other capital offences during the First World War. The main sculpture, of what appears to be a teenager, not yet physically mature, blindfolded and tied to a stake awaiting the bullets that would end his life on soil far from home, is surrounded by empty wooden posts with the names of those who were executed. It is easy for us, in what we think of as a more enlightened age, to feel the need to condemn those we deem responsible for the executions, but surely they did not fully know what they were doing. The Crucified One recognized the ignorance of his executioners and forgave them. But whilst it is not our place to forgive those who do wrong to others, nor is it our place to condemn them, for we too have enjoyed the scent of blood, from scoffing at the discomfort of those we do not like to making a contribution to their downfall by entering into gossip. The victim of unjust treatment, be they sentenced to death by the state or isolated by the crowd (or congregation) can be assured of the solidarity of Christ.
Theyre Lee-Elliott/Crucified tree form – the agony from the Methodist Modern Art Collection, © TMCP, used with permission.
Time for reflection What aspects of suffering does the painting convey to you? Who are the ones that suffer those aspects today? In your circle, church, community or world? Who is the onlooker? What is going through their mind? How far are they from touching? If it wasn’t barbed wire draped across the body or trunk what would you add? Why do you think the artist chose the background colour he did? What colour would you have chosen and why?
Shot at Dawn (photo by Bruce Thompson)
Visit and view the Methodist Modern Art Collection Passion in Paint, a special exhibition featuring pieces of work from the Methodist Modern Art Collection, will be taking place in Lincoln Cathedral and at The Collection, Lincoln, from Friday, 12th February – Sunday, 27th March 2016. As part of the exhibition there will be a range of guest speakers offering a series of special talks in the Cathedral Chapter House. The talks will be free and will take place at 1.15pm and 7pm on the following dates: Thursday, 11th February – The Revd Graham Kent (Secretary of the Trustees, Methodist Modern Art Collection) Wednesday, 24th February – Mr Ben Stoker (Arts & Heritage Consultant) Thursday, 3rd March – Prof. Peter Burman (Arts & Heritage Consultant) Wednesday, 9th March – Dr Jonathan KoestleCate (Art Historian) Thursday, 17th March – The Revd Bruce Thompson (Chair, Lincolnshire Methodist District) Wednesday, 23rd March – The Revd Dr Richard Davey (Coordinating chaplain at Nottingham Trent University)
Exhibition