“Repairing the Halo (of the publican, sinner, Pharisee, and saint)” // 11x17 linoleum cut on paper

The use of the halo in art has been in place for centuries to represent godliness, holiness, divinity, light and sainthood. So far as I can tell, the publicans, sinners, scribes, Pharisees, and Sadducees have never been represented with a halo of divine light. Not to be critical of the “masters”, but I believe all to have halos.
However, all of our halos take a beating in mortality. Tarnished, bent, lopsided, dented, ragged, pitted and some even nearly-dilapidated. To me, Easter represents the repairing of halos, the shot at second chances, the opportunity for redemption. Maybe this Easter, take a closer look to find the halos on those you’d least expect. Maybe you could even assist in some way to prop up another’s neglected halo, polish it off a bit, and aid in helping the divine light to shine brighter... your own included.

“The waters compassed me about, even to the soul.” —(12x18)— I started this cut the first Sunday of pandemic lockdown. Whatever religious tradition you come from, or none at all, surely you’ve heard of the ancient prophet Jonah. I have always liked his story, not only because of the whale with an appetite for rebellious seers, but because of the story of transformation. While interviewing my friend @niederbippboya few years ago for a project, he said something that has stuck with me. He said “sometimes you just have to be swallowed by a whale” — In other words, we learn valuable lessons in the belly of the beast we can learn in no other way. — This is so hard to keep at the front of our minds as we are being slowly, painfully digested by our trials. Jonah’s particular trial was self-inflicted. Ours often are as well, though certainly not always. Self-inflicted or life-inflicted, the transformative powers attached are nothing shy of miraculous. I believe strongly in an eternal perspective. This belief brings value to my struggles, when the waters compass me about, even to the soul. Remember... hungry whales ahead.

“I Shall Be Whole.” — Matt. 9:20-22, Mark 5:25-34, Luke 8:43-48 — We are in need of divine guidance. Today I am praying and fasting as my attempt to reach for the hem of His robe. “If {we} may but touch his garment, {we} shall be whole.” — That being said, I do not believe a loving Heavenly parent will simply make this difficult situation vanish or the forth-coming economic struggles to disappear. Just as I allow my youngest son learning to walk to have bruised knees and scraped palms, I believe we have a lot to learn from this unique season in history. I believe strongly in a contradiction... I believe we can be made whole even in times of shattering struggle, in fact, I believe we are made whole in the very shattering itself. I truly believe our time on Earth is a time away from Mom and Dad to go through a unique university in order to learn and grow. Some classes easy, others, very difficult. We are all subject to moments of maddening homework—so frustrating you want to rip your hair out. This homework comes in the form of “issues” like the woman in this story having an “issue of blood.” She had to mull over her homework for 12 years before she was graded. Others have less apparent issues they must wrestle with, sometimes for their entire lives. I’m certain, at one point or another, all humans throughout all of time have asked “why does God allow such sadness and struggle?” In other words, why would loving parents allow their kids to attend difficult classes at school where they will be subject to excruciating homework? How come God allows lectures in “Pandemics and Pestilence 1050?” Labs in “Disease and Death 1010?” Through the lens of mortality, these classes seem too difficult to finish... impossible... unfair. However if we swap to the lens of eternal growth, all of this homework makes sense as an essential part of who we are. In this really incredible plan we are the sum of all our experiences—good and bad— which ultimately makes us whole...complete. As the ancient prophet Isaiah put it, He will “give unto {us} beauty for ashes.”

“Behold, thy King cometh” — April 5, 2020 — Palm Sunday. Today Christians throughout the world symbolically celebrate the story told in the Gospels of Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem upon a colt where he was greeted by his followers (and surely anticipated by his enemies.) The symbolism is appropriate at all times in our lives but seems to have a stronger significance in the uncertain days we are in right now. In the ancient traditions of the near east, it was customary to cover the path of those thought to be worthy of the highest honor. In the gospel of John he specifies palm fronds and clothing were laid by Christ’s followers to cover His path. The palm has symbolized triumph and victory, yet he arrived on the back of a donkey. A king declaring victory would surely arrive on the back of a magnificent horse! Not this King, not that kind of victory. In battle, a general riding in on a donkey symbolized a declaration of peace. It is this symbolism I find fitting in our global time of need. A triumph of peace, victory over fear. I have peace knowing “my King cometh.”