Jesus's Third Way Epiphany 7C

Jesus’s Third Way     Epiphany 7C

The Sermon on the Plain in Luke continues. As if the choices Jesus offered in his Blessings and Woes were not challenging enough to his emerging Community of Love, along comes the commandment to “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” [i] To love God, love neighbors, and to love ourselves is demanding enough for most of us most of the time. But our usual response toward enemies, whether within or beyond the Community of Love, is either to fight or flee – fight or flight. Love is about the last thing we might consider when confronted with those who hate us, those who curse us, and those who abuse us. 

Fortunately, Jesus offers some examples that help us to see that this “Love” he is talking about is less a noun, characteristic, or emotional state, than it is an action. It helps to know that Jewish teaching [Exodus 23:4-5, Proverbs 24:17; 25:21] commands helping and aiding enemies “in order to ‘subdue the evil inclination.’” [ii] Perhaps Jesus is suggesting a sense of fairness toward one’s enemies. 

Yet, the examples seem to point to the enemies of occupation: the legions and bureaucracy of Rome. By the time of Jesus there were reminders stretching all along the roadways of those thousands who had resisted the occupation now crucified and left as an example for all to see every day. By the time Luke was writing, the Temple and Jerusalem had been burned to the ground to quell the Jewish insurrection. It was common practice for a centurion or even a bureaucrat to slap an insolent person on the cheek. And it was typical of a landowner to demand of those indebted to him a cloak, an outer garment, as a pledge until the debt is paid-off. If you were to refuse, you might be taken to debtors-court. In either case, we tend to  hear this giving away, or turning the other cheek, as a kind of passive giving in to injustice and becoming a “Christian doormat.” Attempting to fight or flee would carry dire reprisals. 

Walter Wink, in his little book, Jesus and Nonviolence suggests that Jesus appears to be offering what he calls A Third Way. Instead of withstanding the punishing slap on the cheek, turn the other cheek. In a dominant right-handed world, the slap would be done with the left hand which in 1^st century society was the hand used for unclean tasks. Backhanding was the common way to admonish inferiors: masters backhanded slaves; husbands, wives; parents, children; Romans, Jews. But if you turn the other cheek, he is almost forced to slap with the palm of the hand or a fist, which is to acknowledge you are a peer. You rob the oppressor of the power to humiliate. And you seem to say, “Go ahead, try again! I refuse to be humiliated. You cannot demean me. I am a human being just like you.” Far from being submissive or passive, turning the other cheek becomes an act of nonviolent defiance! [iii] 

Similar with the debtor and the cloak. The poorest of the poor could have their only cloak revoked. It was often one’s only source of warmth on the cold desert nights. Again, Wink suggests, if you not only give up your outer-garment, but also your under-garment, now you are naked. If this happened in court, you would surely lose the case, but now you have turned the tables. You have refused to be humiliated, and registered a stunning blow against an unfair system that spawns onerous indebtedness. In any event, nakedness was taboo, and the shame fell not on the naked party, but on the person viewing or even causing the nakedness. You nonviolent act of defiance has unmasked the creditor not as a fair money lender, but rather as party to a ruthless system that reduces an entire social class to landlessness and destitution. No Christian doormats here. This is one way to love one’s enemies.” 

At the center of this portion of the Sermon on the Plain, is the imperative that in all situations in this life we are to be “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful… for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked.” Mercy is a central dimension of what it means to love one another, even our enemies. To which Jesus adds an example not only of the quality of mercy, but the quantity as well. As to the qualities of mercy and love, Jesus piles up the imperatives: do not judge, do not condemn, always forgive, always give, and as Psalm 37 commands, do not fret and refrain from anger. These are meant to be qualities of life within the Community of Love, as well as qualities of mercy and love we might do well to apply to ourselves if we are to have any chance of loving others as ourselves, and as God loves us and is merciful towards us. 

Jesus is essentially in agreement with The Beatles when Paul sings, “And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.” But of course, this is Jesus Christ the Son of God who always challenges us to go one step further in our love and mercy for others: the measure of love and mercy you will get in return for loving others will be “a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back." We tend to overlook just what Jesus is really saying here. Whenever I in the past, or now in the present, have asked one of our children or grandchildren for a cup of flour when I’m in the kitchen, as Jesus says, they would always come with at least a cup and a quarter or more, spilling all over the counter, the floor, and all over my lap. It turns out the measure of love and mercy we give to others results in even more you get back from God our Father, who is merciful, gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. With no offense to Sir Paul, but the love you take will be greater than the love you make when you love God and love neighbors and enemies as you love yourself! 

There are always those who will say none of this is practical; fight or flight are the only things that really work; the Third Way of Nonviolence is pie in the sky. To which one might say, “Tell that to Ruby Bridges, or John Lewis, or Ghandi, or Oscar Romero, or Mother Theresa, or Dorothy Day, or St. Francis of Assisi.” There are those who have tried Jesus’s Third Way of Nonviolence and have made the world a better place. Again, Luke’s Sermon on the Plain presents a fork in the road; a choice to be made. Will I judge others, condemn others, be angry with others, or will I be merciful and love others, as our Father is merciful and abounds in steadfast love? 

Walter Wink concludes, “Many people have not aspired to Jesus’s Third Way because it has been presented to them as absolute pacifism, a life-commitment to nonviolence in principle, with no exceptions. They are neither sure they can hold fast to its principles in every situation, nor sure that they have the saintliness to overcomes their own inner violence…. We can commit ourselves to following Jesus’s way as best we can. We know we are weak and will probably fail. But we also know that God loves and forgives us and sets us back on our feet after every failure and defeat…Jesus’s Third Way is not an insuperable counsel to perfection attainable only by the few. It is simply the right way to live, and can be pursued by many. “ [iv]

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[i] Luke 6:27-38

[ii] Levine, Amy Jill, The Jewish Annotated New Testament (Oxford University Press, NY:2011) p.126

[iii] Wink, Walter, Jesus and Nonviolence, (Fortress Press, Minneapolis: 2003) p.14-16

[iv] Ibid, Wink, p.102-103

Which Way Will We Go? Epiphany 6C

 

Which Way Will We Go?

At one time or another, we all come to a fork in the road and need to decide which way to go. Often, we will sit down and make a list of pros and cons to help us to decide. In evangelist Luke’s version of the Beatitudes and Sermon on the Mount, Jesus seems to be doing just that: unlike Matthew 5:1-12 which lists 9 blessings, Jesus in Luke 6:17-26 presents 4 blessings and 4 woes. The setting is also different: Matthew places the teaching atop a mountain, whereas Luke describes Jesus, his newly chosen 12 disciples and other disciples, coming down from a mountain top to meet with people on a level ground. That is, he comes down to meet the crowds where they are. Where they are is in great need: in need of hearing him speak, and in need of being healed from various diseases; from what we might call various kinds of dis-ease. 

Jesus says that those who are blessed are poor, hungry, weeping, and reviled. To be blessed is not to be happy as we might look at it, nor is it to adopt a particular moral character. It is something more like “congratulations” or “fortunate” – as you might congratulate a friend who has won the lottery. Which seems like an oxymoron. Which seems outrageous and just plain weird. It seems equally foolish and weird in our culture to declare that those who are wealthy, well fed, happy, and of good reputation are in any way unfortunate. What is the teacher up to? 

We can be sure that the Jews in this highly diverse crowd from Gentile and Jewish territories recognize this. It is an important part of their past. They recall that the diverse group of former slaves who escaped from Egypt, after forty years, that is several generations, are about to cross the River Jordan into the land YHWH the God of the Exodus has promised to be their new home. Moses sits everyone down to make sure they (and we) remember all they have learned during their wilderness sojourn. He says there is a choice to be made: “I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him, for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.” [i] The crowd has been at this fork in the road before. They recognize Jesus is channeling Moses. Trust in the ways of the Lord, or succumb to the loneliness and death-dealing of self-sufficiency. 

It is the same choice the prophet Jeremiah sets before the people some six hundred years prior to the time of Jesus: Cursed are those who put their trust in mortals; Blessed are those who trust in the Lord. That is, life that is true life, life that is like a tree planted ‘by water,’ will be nourished in the ways of the Lord and able to withstand years of drought, years of anxiety, and know that in the end all shall be well. Those who trust in mortals “shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness.” [ii] Trust in the Lord, or succumb to the withering anxiety of a self-sufficiency that never believes there is enough. 

Psalm 1 offers a similar choice: “Happy are they who have not walked in the counsel of the wicked, nor lingered in the way of sinners, nor sat in the seats of the scornful! Their delight is in the law of the Lord, and they meditate on his law day and night.” [iii] The way of life and happiness is for those who delight in Torah, the teachings of the Lord gleaned in the wilderness sojourn. Not so for the wicked. The psalmist concludes, “for the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.” (v.6) 

It has been noted that the Hebrew word for ‘happy’ begins with the first letter of the alphabet, and the word for ‘perish’ begins with the last word of the alphabet. Psalm 1, in a sense sums it all up, from beginning to end, A to Z, Alpha to Omega, from Aleph to Tav. This happiness is not self- gratification or self-sufficiency, but rather means to be connected to the source of life thru the study of Torah, God’s instructions. One is happy when one is connected to the source of all life. Whereas the scoffers, the wicked, are those not open to instruction. They know it all. In either case, happiness is not a reward, nor is wickedness a punishment. Wickedness is simply a choice not to be connected to God and to others, since God’s instruction is all about how one is to live with and among and for others. In that sense, wickedness throughout the Psalms means to be self-centered and self-directed rather than God-centered and God-directed. In a word, wickedness is autonomy, which literally means you are “a law unto oneself.” [iv] 

Again, those in the crowd from Jerusalem and Galilee, at the center of Torah, God’s instructions, is Love. Love understood not as a romantic quality, but as the foundation of how one respects the dignity of every person, and seeks to meet the needs of others. All others. Which is what Jesus teaches – to Love God, and to Love our neighbors as ourselves. As to who is our neighbor, Torah and Jesus expand neighborliness beyond nearby friends and family to mean all people in need of healing, love, and care: the widow, the orphan, and even enemies like the Samaritans, and immigrants fleeing warfare, danger, drought, famine, repressive regimes, and all sorts of “natural and man-made” disasters. Later in Luke Jesus defines the unboundedness of such love of neighbor in the story of the Good Samaritan. A story rooted in the most ancient understanding of God’s love and solidarity with all those beyond the community of faith and of any and all ethnicity. Torah teaches, “The alien who resides with you shall be to you as the native-born among you; you shall love the alien as yourself, for you were aliens in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”[v] We are not taught to be self-sufficient, but to care for one another. This is the very heart of Torah. This is the Gospel – The Good News of Jesus Christ the Son of God. 

In his sermon on level ground, the words of Jesus rest on the conviction that when God created the world, it was good. Good means that there was enough richness, beauty, and abundance to nourish the whole creation and every creature therein. God made enough for everyone and everything to flourish so that everyone could look and say, “This is good. This is very good.” Richard Swanson recalls his grandmother saying, “God made enough for everyone’s need, but not enough for everyone’s greed.” Blessed are you who are hungry. God made the miracle of creation so that there will be someone to feed you. Woe to you who are rich. You have filled your pockets by refusing to share. “Give to everyone who begs from you,” says Jesus. “As you wish people to do for you, do the same for them,” he says. Love your neighbor as yourself and all will be blessed. All will be happy. I wonder, asks Swanson, if anyone believes Jesus’s words? [vi] 

We find ourselves at a fork in the road. Which way will we go?

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[i] Deuteronomy 30:19-20

[ii] Jeremiah 17:5-10

[iii] Psalm 1:1-2

[iv] McCann Jr, J. Clinton, Texts for Preaching (Westminster John Knox Press, Lexington: 1994) p. 145

[v] Leviticus 19:34

[vi] Swanson, Richard W., Provoking the Gospel of Luke (Pilgrim Press, Cleveland: 2006) p.108-109.

All Those Fish! Epiphany 5C

 All Those Fish!

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;

And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,

When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

-Lord Byron, The Destruction of Sennacherib 

Freshman year in high school we had to memorize Lord Byron’s The Destruction of Sennacherib, a poem that describes the Eighth Century BCE Assyrian Deportation and resettlement of all of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, followed by the destruction of all the towns in Judea, the southern kingdom under Sennacherib, King of Assyria. The assault on Jerusalem was halted due to a divine intervention, but the deportation was completed. 

The time leading up to the deportation is when Isaiah was appointed by the Lord God of Israel to deliver the news. Isaiah is in awe! The house of the Lord is filled with burning coals, incense and smoke, and seraphim (seraph means “burning” ), each with six wings, two to cover their faces, two to cover their feet, and two with which to fly, singing, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory,” perhaps the oldest liturgical hymn, now the source of our Sanctus, and is sung every day by men and women in front of the Western Wall. Isaiah says he lacks the necessary credentials, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" [Isaiah 6:1-13]  And yet, when the Lord asks who will deliver the news, Isaiah famously replies, “Here am I; send me.” Isaiah then begins his prophetic career announcing the coming destruction. 

The Psalmist in Psalm 138, also lived in troublesome and dark times. He, or she,  sings I “will bow down toward your holy temple and praise your Name, your reputation, your character because of your love and faithfulness.” Further, sings the psalmist, our God  cares for the lowly and keeps the  haughty and arrogant at a distance. This is echoed in Luke’s Song of Mary to describe her child, Jesus. Jesus embodies God’s strange sovereignty, distancing himself from the proud and powerful in favor of the lowly. Psalm 138 is thus expressive of the topsy-turvy values that prevail in the reign of God where the last will be first, and the first will be last. Though God’s deliverance is always a present reality, we also acknowledge that it is as-yet to be fulfilled. Nevertheless, those who eschew self-sufficiency for their commitment to these values of the reign of God, are assured that despite the “not-yetness,” God will fulfill God’s purposes for us and for our world. 

Then there is Simon Peter and all those fish. This opening episode in chapter five of Luke is most often called Jesus Calls the First Disciples. The first thing one notices is, however, that he does not call them at all. Simon, along with the Zebedee brothers James and John, had been fishing all night and caught nothing. They landed their boats and were washing their nets. Along comes Jesus who commandeers Simon’s boat, puts out into the water, and teaches the crowds on the shore from the boat. We are not told what he is preaching, but earlier we are told he has been all over the place teaching about the kingdom of God, which he says “is at hand,” and involves the lifting up of the lowly and distancing oneself from the arrogant and haughty; here and now. 

When he finishes teaching, Jesus instructs Simon to put out to deeper water “and let down your nets for a catch." At first Simon tries to reason with him. After all, they have cleaned the nets and no fish were caught all night. But then, he says, “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." And that’s when it happens. The net is filled with so many fish that Simon has to call the Zebedee’s boat, and still there are so many fish that both boats are in danger of sinking! Simon kneels before Jeus and blurts out, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" Those first hearing this story will recognize that Simon Peter sounds a lot like Isaiah, and to us a lot like Mike Myers’s and Dana Carvey in Wayne’s World, “I am not worthy, I am not worthy!” Jesus replies, "’Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’ When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.” Whatever catching people means, Simon, James and John abandon everything, boats, nets, families, and follow Jesus to find out.

 Like Isaiah, all though it does not necessarily make sense, when Jesus says ‘let’s do this,’ Simon  and company do it. This is what following Jesus is all about. It may not agree with what we believe or understand, but as Nike used to say,  “Just do it!” You will always be surprised whatever happens! 

Then there is the abundance. Superabundance really! We know about the water turned into 180 gallons of wine. We know about bread and fish leftovers after feeding in excess of 5,000 people. Now it is fish! And even if Simon Peter has no idea what Jesus means by fishing for people, this event foreshadows what happens Luke’s Volume 2, The Book of the Acts of the Apostles: On the day of Pentecost Simon Peter addresses a slightly hostile crowd who accuse the disciples of being drunk first thing in the morning. Lo and behold: the result of his speech, thousands sign-on to follow in the Way of Jesus. Pentecost is his first success as fishing for people. 

Then there is the ending. They leave everything – boats, nets, and all those fish – and leave to follow Jesus. This is Luke’s curious commentary on the use of possessions. It speaks of a radical unconcern for possessions which seems to be integral to being a disciple. They leave it all behind to follow someone they don’t really know yet, and surely do not understand. Once again, the story of all those fish foreshadows what takes place in the book of Acts where the growing community of Christ shares all things in common and redistribute everything as others have need. All this sharing and giving in Acts attracts more and more followers. 

Most of all, the story means to speak of the awesome presence of God in someone who is a person, a human, just like us all. Simon recognizes this presence, even if he does not understand it. There is no conversation about “who are you?” or “how did this happen?” Simon and others in the crowd, recognize the awesome presence of God just as Isaiah experienced it nearly 800 years before, and as the psalmist in Psalm 138 recognized the love and faithfulness of God. A love and faithfulness that cares for the lowly and distances itself from the arrogant and haughty. 

It is what the Bible sometimes calls “fear of the Lord,” or even “the wrath of God. It is to recognize that I don’t really deserve to be in such a presence, and yet, this is what God’s presence is really all about. Fear of the Lord, or God’s wrath, writes Maggie Ross, is “God’s relentless compassion pursuing us even when we are at our worst.” [i] This is what these stories are really all about. As to all those fish they left behind? I’m not sure, but to this day when in Tiberias along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, you will see that every restaurant has a sign outside featuring St. Peter’s Fish!

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[i] Ross, Maggie, The Fire of Your Life (Paulist Press, New York:1983) p.137

Love Like a New-born Child Candlemass 2025C

 Love Like a New-Born Child

Since I first viewed it, I have long been drawn to a painting of the Christ Child by George de la Tour, working in Lorraine, now eastern France, around 1648: The New-born Child. Unlike so many earlier paintings depicting the Christ as a tiny, king-like figure, surrounded by distinguished visitors offering gifts, including incense to be used by all kings and emperors when they would visit the poor towns of their subjects, La Tour depicts a simpler child. A more human child. In fact, none of the usual iconography of halos and such are present, so one might not at first glance recognize this image as a holy picture at all. 

Yet, there is the light. The woman looking on, perhaps a mid-wife, is holding a candle, shaded from the viewer by her hand. The way in which that light reflects from the head and shoulders of the swaddled child makes it look as if the light emanates from him – the one evangelist John says is the light and the life of the world and all people. There is a silence and a stillness to the image. His mother and the visitor look down at the equally silent and still infant. Then, there is the swaddling. So still, so pale is the infant, that one might think the swaddling bands to be a funeral shroud, much like those wrapped around the mummies of Egyptian pharaohs. As the visitor looks on, Mary looks at her child with somewhat muted, mixed emotions: humble pride, reverence, joy, tenderness, and a sort of sad apprehension. As reported in the gospel accounts, she ponders these things in her heart. 

La Tour, influenced by the Franciscans, presents us with the miracle of the Incarnation of God come to us as one of us, the Light of the World made Flesh and Blood. This infant is like any other new-born child, such that La Tour seems to insist that this child, this Christ is universal, “in and of each one of us, not because he rules the world, but because he chooses to be born just like every one of us.” [i] The swaddling shroud suggests the baby is born to die like one of us as well. And like all of us, this infant is dependent on human love – our love. The same love of Christ that St Francis and his followers spread throughout Europe, serving the poor and neglected folks, and feeding themselves on the scraps they would beg when going from door to door. Francis, like Christ, lived not as a king, not even the life of a rich merchant into which he was born, but a life of servanthood to the lowliest folks like those La Tour depicts in this painting. 

It is such simple folks who greet Mary and Joseph as they arrive at the Jerusalem temple some forty days after the birth of their child. The fortieth day is designated as the time to Present a first-born male child to be dedicated to the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and to offer a sacrifice for the Purification after giving child-birth, Mary, the infant’s mother. Evangelist Luke tells us that Mary and Joseph purchased a pair of birds to offer for the appointed sacrifice. What Luke does not tell us is that the appointed sacrifice is an unblemished lamb. The birds are an alternative for those people, which was most people, who cannot afford the lamb. Once the birds are purchased, the young mother, her older husband, and their infant child, will be identifiable as poor people. And once they would open their mouths to speak, their distinctly Galilean accent would further identify them as country hicks from the northern region of Israel. [ii] 

It is reasonable to think that given how people will look at bird-people they may want to get in and get out as quickly as possible. That is not happening. Before they get to offer the birds, they are approached by an old man. An old man who is waiting to depart this life for the next, but has been assured by the Holy Spirit that he will see the salvation of his people before that day arrives. Not only that, he takes the child from his mother’s arms! And not only that, he becomes a theological and liturgical poet: "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." And not only that, but the old man Simeon is revealed to be a prophet when he declares not only will this child to bring God’s saving grace to Israel, but to Gentiles as well. To the whole world. 

Then as he hands the infant back to his mother, Simeon adds: "This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed-- and a sword will pierce your own soul too." Reinforcing the appearance of the swaddling as a funeral shroud. As Mary no doubt ponders all this in her heart, there is an old woman. This old woman was also prophet, Anna the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. After her husband died, she, like the old man, spent day and night at the Temple worshipping, praying and fasting. Suddenly she begins tell everyone awaiting God to do something to save them from the iron rod of Rome that this is the One. This infant is the One for whom we have been praying, fasting and worshipping here day and night. 

I want to believe at some point Joseph intervenes to say, “Thank you very much, but we really need to get on with our rites of Presentation and Purification, so we will be on our way.” And he, Mary and the child offer the birds, and return to Nazareth in Galilee, where the child grows up to be strong, and wise, and the Spirit of the Lord was upon him. The experience was anything but still and silent as George de la Tour would paint some sixteen hundred years into the future. 

The future. This is what it was all about that day in Jerusalem. The old man and the old woman recognized the future in this child Simeon had snatched from his mother’s arms. Mary could see it too. You can see it in her face as la Tour depicts it the child newly born. Something new was about to happen in Israel. And throughout the rest of the world. Something like the same Spirit would inspire in another young man some 1200 years later. Francis of Assisi. 

Francis would hear Jesus on the cross speak to him: Francis, repair my church. The chapel at San Damiano was falling apart, and at first Francis rebuilt it stone by stone. Then Francis realized, it was the Church Catholic, the Church Universal, that was in need of repair, having drifted far from following Christ in serving others and become the power behind the Empire. Francis abandoned his family’s wealth,  gathered a following of others who would commit with him to serve the poor – the bird people. In no time at all he had 5,000 followers, and Clare of Assisi gathered women all over Europe as well. Georges de la Tour saw the faithfulness of all these Franciscans and was moved to paint an infant Christ as a new-born child to remind us, one and all, who would ever see his image, that the Light of Christ shines in us all if we are brave enough not to hide it under a bushel. 

As Francis prayed before the Crucifix in San Damiano, when we see this painting by La Tour,  we see the light of Christ – the light of Christ that shines through and beyond all darkness. We see our common humanity in this infant who is dependent on human love – our love. This Christ is universal, in and of each one of us, not because he rules the world, but because he chooses to be born just like every one of us, shining his light on us and through us so that we, like Francis and Clare, may bring his light and life to others who, like us, are dependent on his love. 

May God for us, whom we call Father; God alongside us, whom we call Son; and God within us, whom we call Spirit; help us to bear the light of Christ to those to whom you send us, through and beyond all darkness. Amen.

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[i] Macgregor, Neil, and Erika Kangmuir, Seeing Salvation: Images of Christ in Art, (Yale University Press, New Haven: 2000) p. 45-48.

[ii] Luke 2:22-4