Skip to main content

new lenten collage: seventh, and final, in a series


"into your hands i commit my spirit"
mixed media collage on stretched canvas (found papers, acrylic paint, markers, glue)
8" by 10"
april 2014
gregory a. milinovich

and so we come to the end of lent, and of my lenten discipline to engage the Biblical texts that we are dealing with in church each week in a creative and expressive way.  this collage deals with what might have been the very last words uttered by the mouth of Jesus, words that are part of a prayer found in the 31st psalm.  it would seem that as he hung dying, Jesus was praying this prayer, not having his life taken from him so much as still offering it into the hands of God, whom he knew would embrace and redeem him.  on this good friday, let us remember that while we are good at pointing fingers at the ones who killed Jesus, whether you want to blame the religious leaders of the jews, or the roman authorities, or even ourselves because of our own sinfulness, the truth is that Jesus offered his life.  he gave it.  he could have stopped it at any point, but he chose not to.  the gift of salvation is really a gift of love.  offered by Jesus to you.

it has been a fascinating journey for me these last 7 weeks to reflect creatively on the seven last words of Christ before his resurrection.  i have really enjoyed the discipline of making a collage each week to respond to or live into the text.  here are all seven together:


and the sides of them:


i hope you have at least enjoyed seeing the idea of possibilities.  we are so used to approaching the Scriptures in one way:  listening to a sermon.  or maybe reading it at our desk and underlining some things.  maybe we've even grown into meditating and praying through certain texts, or using other resources to study particular passages more deeply.  all of those things are good.  but i want you to see  that there are other ways, too!  you can reflect.  you can respond.  you can create and interact.  you can draw a picture or write a story.  you can write God a letter to ask your questions.  you can find bits of paper and glue them together!  there are many ways for you to have a dialogue with God about this word, which is like the very breath of God.  how will you breathe it?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

#thoughtsandprayers

i made these comments and prayed the following prayer at one of our worship services at SPWF yesterday, and had a few folks asked if i would post them, so there they are: 
It has been a season of terrible tragedy.  And I have noticed in the news a trending phrase: thoughts and prayers.  It even has its own hashtag on twitter and other social media, but net necessarily in a good way.  People are understandably tired of hearing about others’ thoughts and prayers, when that is only a thinly-veiled way of saying that our only obligation to those who suffer is a brief moment of silence, or nothing more than a tweet or public statement.  The truth is that, for those of us who follow Jesus, much is required when our neighbors suffer.  We are called to do justice where we can, to love kindness and mercy, and to walk with God through it all.  But let us be careful not to throw out the proverbial baby with the bathwater.  We are, as people of faith, those who know that prayer is not simply an em…

a divided tree

there is a tree in my back yard.  i'm pretty sure it's an oak tree.  at least that's what i think Shannon told me.  i don't know my oaks from my maples, my elms from my locusts.  to me, it's a tree: a corinthian column bursting up into life and glory.  full of sap and pulp and rings and bugs and cells pulsing with water and always reaching for something.  it is full of rhythm, reach and flourish then fall and die, and repeat. 

this particular tree, though, isn't of one mind. 

half of it's rusted orange leaves have given up their grip and surrendered -gracefully or not - to the pull of gravity and the threat of winter.  the north side of this inauspicious oak is just about bare naked, all sticks and straight lines, a skeleton of itself.  but the side that looks south is stubbornly resisting change.  no longer green, the leaves have compromised their summer vibrancy, but they are clearly not ready to concede death just yet. 

i feel like i can relate to this …

vote. and pray. but do not be afraid (the King is alive).

i'm not sure how many americans right now are feeling optimistic about the government.  i know i'm not.  in fact, while i didn't live through the civil war or anything, i have to think that faith in our elected leaders - indeed the whole system of electing them in the first place - is at one of its lowest points.  i just don't have a great deal of confidence in those individuals who have been elected, or in those who want to be.  i find myself slipping at times into what feels like a swamp of apathy: sinking, to be sure, but not sure that i care enough anymore to do much about it.  i see this attitude all around me: in conversations, on social media, and in popular culture.  perhaps there is no more clear indication of our nation's view of the government than this current election season, when we would teeter on electing liars and thieves, crooks and clowns. 

which is why i was so startled as i sat down to read psalm 72 this morning. as i read the ancient song, i…