Monday, August 22, 2011

Sunday at the Museum

Chicago Art Institute

Introduction

 I had a wonderful weekend when I went to Chicago to attend a conference on Hispanic Ministry last week.  This was my very first trip to Chicago.  The conference was an Anglican 1000 conference, if you are an Anglican and are familiar with that program you will know that it was very important and meaningful for me.  Perhaps I will share some insights from the conference on another day.

What I want to share with you today is what I did on Sunday.  Sunday is, for sure, the Lord's Day in the Marker household, meaning the day we go to church no matter where we may be.  On this particular day, I decided not to go to Sunday Worship somewhere in Chicago, but instead I asked the Lord to bless me and speak to me in the Art Museum.  So the Holy Spirit and I went on an adventurous train ride from O'Hare to downtown Chicago and walked a few blocks to the Chicago Art Institute.  Trains are fun because you can pray for people around you without them even having to know you are blessing them!

I did indeed have a wonderful day seeing paintings up close that I have only seen in books and other visual media.  I love to see and study great works of art and in the past I spent many hours at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art in my young days, as well as other smaller museums.  When we visited Madrid, Spain I spent 3 days at the Prado and half a day at the Picasso Museum.  All those wonderful masterpieces by so many including Velasquez, El Greco, and of course, Goya.  Oh how I loved spending time with Goya.

Chicago Art Institute
Well, about Chicago.  The museum is lovely and has so, so much wonderful art within its walls.  I want to return to Chicago someday just to go to museums because there are many in this city and I only saw maybe one third of this one!  I had never seen so many Impressionists in one place.  I like to get up close and see brush strokes, but if you do, you miss the whole picture because it must be seen from a distance.  I asked the Lord what he wanted me to learn from what I saw and he said, "Look at all the little brush strokes, all the bits of color, each masterfully placed on the canvas, even though it looks so random.  That is how I created my church, that is how it all comes together as a hand selected, chosen and created masterpiece.  I am the Master and Creator."  Then He told me to consider all the strokes of the masterpieces I saw and think of the individual people in my Christian community and remember that all together we are what the world sees as his family.  Sometimes individually we don't look like much to each other but when seen from a few steps back, like these pictures, we are beautiful and lovingly created as a family.

I saw many Renoir, Degas, Gauguin, Manet and Monet, as well as dear Vincent Van of Gogh paintings.  Then I moved along to many other masterpieces, some by Rembrandt, and even some Spanish painters and all my favorite Flemish painters as well.  Then suddenly I came face to face with the painting I had been specifically brought to see this day.  This one I had never seen in my life!  I stood in front of The Repentance of St. Peter by Jusepe de Ribera, who I believe was a Spanish painter who painted with the Italian painters of his period.
I was so taken in that I literally sat in front of the painting with my eyes glued to St. Peter's face.  I felt as if I was right there with him in his repentance.  I felt as if I was looking through his eyes at Jesus, begging not only forgiveness but for mercy and restoration.  Scripture tells us that St. Peter had been confused by Satan as Jesus Christ had told him he would be when he denied him three times.  When that cock crowed after the third time, he knew what he had done and wept bitterly before God.  Tradition says that for the rest of his life, every time St. Peter heard a cock crow, he would weep.  And that is what I found happening to me, I wept and wept quietly from my left eye.  First I felt his remorse but then I also felt a sense of compassion, just a taste of what I can only imagine the Father felt as well. St. Peter had failings but he loved God.  His faith had failed him but he did not lose faith in God's mercy.  That is why these things are recorded, so that we too will remember to have faith in God's mercy in our times of need and failings.

I sat in front of that painting for probably 15 minutes.  When I finally came to the point of realizing I should move along, all the people who were in that room had changed, which is one way I know for sure I had been there quite a while.  All day I had been talking to the Lord about various paintings we saw together but this was the most wonderful supernatural experience I had all day.  How wonderful it is to be able to see the fruits of the gifts God gave to those who have lived before us.  You know they are really gifts that can still produce spiritual fruits, as this one did for me. 

A Parting Thought
Well, I missed the one painting I would have liked to see "in person";  American Gothic by Grant Wood as seen below.  It was just too far away and I had been in the museum for 6 hours and could not make my way to yet another building.  Now you might wonder why this painting was so fascinating to me.  I have also added a photo of Fr. Bruce Taylor and myself at Christ Church, in Lemoore, CA.  My kids, Sara and Daniel Marker like to make fun of the photo saying we remind them of American Gothic.  What do you think? 
 
Grant Wood (American).  'American Gothic,' 1930. Oil on board.

American Gothic is supposed to represent an upright hardworking couple.  Many say they are religious and serious with little joy showing forth on their faces.  People read all kinds of things into their faces.  American Gothic was painted 80+ years ago so I suppose they were upright for their time and season.  I think we are upright and hardworking in God's vineyard for our day and season.  

Much love and God's Peace to all of you!  Jeannee

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Sisters (Part 1)

Evelyn and Elsie Maytorena
These two pretty ladies happen to be sisters, and they happen to be my grandmother and great-aunt.  The taller one on the left is my grandmother, Grandma Lyn.  When I was little we called her Grandma Lina (Leena) because everyone called her Lina. I never even knew her real name was Evelyn until I was about 6 and I was helping pass out the Christmas gifts and the tag I read said "To Evelyn."  I didn't see anyone new around named Evelyn so I innocently said, "Oh, I guess she is not here."  Everyone laughed at me because I did not recognize the name of the woman I revered and loved more than any other woman, my Grandma Lina!  But grandma took me in her arms and said, yes, my real name is Evelina, or Evelyn in English. 

In the photo you might notice the stylish dresses they are wearing.  Grandma told me that they used to sew dresses for ladies in town when they were young.  They would travel on the bus from Santa Paula to Los Angeles, to buy fabrics and threads and then return to make dresses to sell.  They were very creative and used magazines to see what the latest styles were.  No patterns needed, they were seamstresses!

My Grandma was the younger sister.  We saw Tia Licha (everyone always had a nickname) every once in a while because it seemed she always lived far away (like in Gilroy) on some ranch with her husband and busy family.  I remember her husband was kind of mean looking and yet kind of handsome because he had very black wavy hair, but he was very dark skinned and looked more Native American than Mexican.  Well, they said he was half Apache (for real) and I believe it because many years later I lived for a short time in Arizona on the Reservation, and I always saw men who looked exactly like Tio Alonzo.  He and his boys were rough and rowdy drinking men, so I was kind of afraid of them. 

Grandma was married to a poor man too, but he was a pentecostal preacher, who traveled around to different churches, spreading the Gospel.  We also lived in the Los Angeles area and not the country.  Clearly these sisters lived very different lives.  But for better or worse, sisters tied together forever.    All of the experiences and the memories of those developmental years and the sharing of that Mommy and Daddy cannot be shared with anyone else like with a sister. 

My grandmother loved her sister very deeply.  They wrote to each other regularly and Grandma prayed for Tia Licha all the time.  I very clearly remember her praying for Tia's health, children, grandchildren and husband.  Her life was hard and poor.  Grandma always spoke to her about the Lord.  I remember when Tia Licha died and my grandmother's eyes were so sad , I wanted to be able to take away the hurt.  But I learned that day that she was also comforted that her sweet sister was at peace and that the hurt would lessen with time.

Sisterhood seems to skip a generation in our family.  My mother had no siblings at all and wanted so much to have sisters so she tried to substitute some cousins for sisters.  I have a sister who I will talk about in another sister blog.  My daughter Sara would have loved to have a sister to share growing up and life with but I have heard her say that her sister-in-law, Lana, is the sister she always wanted.   She loves her very much. 

Yesterday, my sister, Delilah, who is always thinking of others before herself, sent me a birthday card with a sweet message. 

Knowing we would share the special kind of closeness
and connection that will last until the end to time,
God made us sisters...
I will always be grateful to Him for you.

I share that sentiment about her and I believe that Evelyn and Elsie Maytorena, were also grateful to God for each other.  Except that I am happier knowing that the connection will last beyond the end of time on this earth and forevermore right into eternity!  Like my grandmother, I pray for my sister's health, her well being, her happiness and our relationships with the Lord.  I Thank you Lord for my sister and for my grandmother's simple example of how to be a sister.