Musings On Light

I like horizontal light. Does that make any sense? Possibly not if you are an urban dweller, but perhaps if you live in a more rural setting you understand. Right now I'm sitting in my great room looking out through the windows at the trees - the windows face east and so the sun is slowly setting behind the house. There's this large stripe of light that is cutting across all the bare maple trees. The bottom third of the trees are already in late afternoon shadow. On my way home from work, Mangum Road cuts through this big open meadow, perhaps 5-10 acres lined by trees. A previous owner decades ago allowed them to run the road through his property but not the electric so the meadow is unbroken by poles and wires. On occasion the light will be just right. Low hanging dark clouds, grey sky, a big swathe of late afternoon sun running across the trees on the meadow's periphery, and the lower portion and snow in shadow. Perhaps some day I'll figure out how to paint and try to visually capture what I'm describing. I guess I have Monet to thank for teaching me about looking at light. I went to an exhibit many years ago at the Art Institute of Chicago and splurged on the audio tour. I had never understood why he did all those damn haystack paintings. This particular exhibit was the largest collection shown in one place of the haystack paintings. What I learned was that Monet was not painting the haystacks, he was painting the light. Morning light, winter light, midday summer light, rainy day light. I finally understood. The exhibit also included many of his famous water lily paintings. To the end of the exhibit you enter a gallery with enormous versions of these paintings. I actually started to weep - doesn't that sound strange? Monet was slowly going blind. The only way he could see what he was doing was to increase the scale of his paintings. I was very moved by these huge, beautiful canvases created in desperation due to fading sight, diminishing light.

A year or so ago we were having a discussion at this church gathering. One woman, a retired college professor, was sharing her struggles with her faith. She spoke of her doubt - in particular doubt over what is told in the gospels regarding Jesus' life. Because she did not completely accept what was told as "gospel," her faith felt diminished. Before you think I've taken too severe of a left turn here, my Monet experience came to me in that moment. I explained my faith to the group using the story above. For me, the New Testament stories are like the haystacks in Monet's paintings. Whether or not Jesus was actually born in a stable in Bethlehem, whether or not the miracles described occurred literally as written, the words ascribed to his parables, his death, the experiences of the resurrection...all of these are like Monet's haystacks. The point of the paintings is not the haystacks but the light. For me these bits of scripture are less important than the gospels' light - how do these stories reveal the love that is God? Don't worry about whether or not you believe these things happened, take to heart what they teach you about compassion, humanity, the Way. To me, THAT is faith. Well, now the horizontal light that triggered this has faded. Yet, it's already 6PM and still light. The light grows stronger every day. That is part of what occurs in the natural world as Lent progresses, bursting forth with the light of Spring on Easter morning. Life, spirituality, God - it works so much better as poetry, art, metaphor and emotion. Leave facts and history to Caesar. Peace.