Kneel Here, Please

Ordination of Fr.Michael Galbraith October 23rd, 2015

Laying-on of Hands by the Priests of the Diocese

Photo by Brian Wallace

As a kid I grew up around the theatre.  My dad taught drama and stagecraft for a living as a high school and then a college teacher.  He did summer theatre too, and when I was old enough, I got to help out with putting together stage platforms, painting flats and hauling lights up and down ladders.  The aspects of theatre that appealed to me most had to do with all aspects of painting -- mixing colors, applying paint, texturing, working really big.  I tried acting in a few plays (such as the older of the murdered princes in Richard III) which was always problematic, combining acute anxiety (stage-fright) with a lack of coordination and an alarming but predictable tendency to step off the stage due to extreme nearsightedness (the little princes didn't wear glasses, it turns out.)

But really I admired and appreciated too all of the men and women working behind the scenes - the folks operating the sound and light boards, the costumers, the prop masters and most of all, the stage managers, whose role is to somehow to hold the whole everything together at rehearsal and especially during the performance.

I cherish the time I spent with my dad helping out in the summers but I never felt called to a life in the theatre (unlike my sister, Margaret, who became a circus clown and a tap dancer- she's really good, too!)  Which is why, I suppose that I could never imagine that as a deacon I'd find myself serving as a master of ceremonies (a stage manager of sorts) at the liturgy.

The sacred liturgy isn't theatre, of course, but in Catholic ritual, everyone has a particular part (ministry) assigned to them that they perform in the liturgy.  The MC's job is to make sure that the liturgy, especially a complex liturgy like an ordination, seemlessly unfolds according to the rite, with everyone involved standing, kneeling, moving, processing, praying at the appointed time.

Ideally, if the MC is doing his job properly, two things occur: 1. the assembly and ministers don't have to worry about what comes next, which allow them to enter more profoundly and prayerfully into the ritual action and 2. regardless of what might go ary, the MC remains calm,reassuring and encouraging.  And just as with iconpainters, an MC ideally disappears so that the icon of Christ (in this case, the Body of Christ at worship) takes, as it were, center stage.

Last Friday, I had the privilege of serving as MC for Deacon Mike Galbraith's ordination as a priest for the Diocese of Juneau.  Fr. Mike, who will be serving as an associate pastor at Holy Name Parish in Ketchikan, will be a great addition to the presbyterate of our diocese and has all the signs of being a wise and compassionate pastor of souls.  Ad multos annos, brother!

A Life Together

The Conception of Mary

The Wedding Icon

It's our thirty-third marriage anniversary today.  A life together that began with just the two of us but that has only gotten larger and fuller over the intervening years.  So many days as a couple, as spouses, as husband and wife, filled with countless, ordinary moments and choices and decisions made with passion and joy, hope and uncertainty, (with sadness, conflict and tears along the way, to be sure), that somehow have given us such extraordinary gifts, faith, children, ministry, community, each other.
With Christ at the center, an ever-flowing wellspring of grace that has sustained us along the way.

The Icon and the Belt-Sander

The Centre d'Etudes Russes, Meudon 

Twenty-three years ago this week, my wife Paula and I celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary in        Paris at the Centre d'Etudes Russes .  We were there with four friends and students from the Mt.Angel Iconography Institute.  We were there to study with Fr.Egon Sendler SJ (Pere Igor) as students in his basic course.

What a remarkable time that was!  Pere Igor's wisdom, enthusiasm and joy was inspiring,  I learned so much from him each day in the old German barracks (erected during the Occupation ) he'd converted into a classroom and a studio.  I chose the icon of St.Elijah ascending to heaven as the image I would paint.  He would, typically, inspect my drawing, pronounce it "Marvellous! " or Terrific!" And then proceed to erase half the drawing.  Usually he said very little to me, except a few imperatives such as "Simplify!" "Find the essential form!"  

When, after two weeks of diligent work, I completed the icon, he singled it out for effusive praise.  He held it up before the class and commented that he was a mere artisan, but that I was a true artist!  Then he declared in a very lighthearted and comical tone, that the only thing necessary to make it perfect was a belt-sander!  As you might have expected, this got a big laugh from the class.

While I hadn't really taken his artisan/artist comment seriously at all, I was perplexed and hurt (crushed, if truth be told) that he would say, even in jest, that a belt-sander would improve an icon I'd spent so much time and effort bringing to completion.  And which, in my (unspokem) estimation, surpassed the work of anyone else in the class, including, (I'm embarassed to admit) even the work of my master, Pere Igor.

I realized that shrewd spiritual father that he was, he had intuitively grasped my secret sin (hidden, if not from him and my fellow students, then from myself.)  That sin was pride, of course, pride in my ability as an artisit, by which I sought to prove to God (and anyone else who might be interested ) that  I was a worthy person deserving of admiration and praise.

It wasn't the icon that required the belt-sander,  it was me!  The carapace of pride, which was hardening around my heart, needed to be humbled, to be scraped away.  I realized that whatever I managed to accomplish as an iconpainter was nothing , rubbish, actually, to quote St.Paul, compared the icon God had created me to be, being brought to perfect (still a daily struggle) by Christ Jesus.

Which is the only icon that for iconpainters (and everyone else) matters in the end.

Ver Sacrum

I was in high school when I first came across the art of the Austrian Secession movement and their magazine Ver Sacrum (Sacred Spring).  The art of the Secession, an outrider of modern art in fin-de-siecle Vienna used elements of classical mythology, Japanese design and European folk art in painting, architecture, textiles and graphic arts.  it was a repudiation of the academic art that was the prevailing (and state sponsored) style favored by the Hapsburgs.

I was particularly taken by Secession graphics with their  rhythmic patterns,  organic forms, solid matte fields of color, and  bold contrasts of darks and light.

The world of the Hapsburg Austria, (with all of its brilliance, decadence, and intractable contradictions) including this artistic movement, was swept away by World War I.  Sixty years later the bold contrasts, dynamic lines, asymetrical composition and repeated pattern of the Secession, took hold of my imagination.  Which, (athough I didn't realize it at the time) prepared me to appreciate those elements in thr traditional icon.

Mary, More Glorious Beyond Compare Than the Seraphim!

One of the hymns I have come to love over the years is the beautiful paean to Mary, the Mother of God that is sung at the end of the Great Vespers service in the Byzantine liturgy.  It is very brief, but what a wonderful hymn of praise:

" More honorable than the Cherubim and more glorious beyond compare than the Seraphim!  Without defilement you gave birth to God the Word; true Theotokos, we magnify you."

One of the many beautiful treasures that Catholics and Orthodox Christians share is a common love and veneration of Mary, the Mother of God.  In our iconography, divine worship, in our theology and in our life of prayer, we can't seem to find enough superlatives to praise the Mother of Jesus (and our Mother too).

Unfortunately, one of the controversies that sadly continues to divide our two communions is the Catholic dogma of the Immaculate Conception.  Unfortunate, because when Pope Pius IX definitivly declared in 1854 that Mary had been "preserved immune from all stain of original sin", neither Church thought well of each other.  Orthodox Christians, who were not consulted, largely regarded the dogma as yet another instance of papal presumption and aggression, especially after an abortive apostolic letter in 1848 calling on the Orthodox churches to union with Rome.

In the atmosphere of hostility and suspicion that existed between Catholics and Orthodox prior to the Second Vatican Council, this dogma, which was intended to confirm the faith of Christians, tragically deepened the schism.

For me, the language of redemption, applied to Mary, makes the most sense.   That is to say, she was redeemed by grace, prior to her birth (and prior to the birth of her Son, Jesus).  All of the faithful are redeemed, totally and entirely, in the waters of baptism.  This "new birth of innocence" in which every neophyte shares, was preserved in Mary, through her humble cooperation with grace.  Tempted by sin no doubt (as was her Son) but reliant on God and obedient to God's will in all things.

What makes her "more honorable than the Cherubim" was the humble obedience of the one "blessed among all women", who was glorified and made radiant by God's grace.

May we, through the intercession of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Theotokos, the All-Holy Mother of God, deepen the bonds of love and communion between our beloved Orthodox and Catholic churches!

Praying for Syrian Refugees

Today is the memorial of the Church Father and martyr St.Ignatius of Antioch.  For the past four years his feast day has been a particularly apt day to remember in prayer the suffering Church of Syria, as the majority of Syrian Chrisrians belong to either the Orthodox or Catholic see of Antioch.  It is also an opportunity to pray for the people of Syria, and the refugees within that war torn country and those seeking refuge in Europe. 

The late Fr. Basil Pennington wrote a wonderful little book on the rosary entitled "Praying By Hand"' which I would recommend to anyone seeking to deepen their meditation the traditional mysteries of the rosary.   

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But he also sugggested that individuals are free to meditate while praying the rosary on other incidents from the life of Jesus or themes drawn from his earthly or resurrected life.  As the US Catholic Bishops wrote in their pastoral letter, "Behold Your Mother"' :

"Besides the precise rosary pattern well-known to Catholics, we can freely experiment... New sets of mysteries are possible."   

Which is why in my own life of prayer, I have been meditating five incidents from the Holy Family's on flight into Egypt as a means of binding myself in prayer to the refugees fleeing from Syria, Iraq and elsewhere.

1. Herod Orders the Massacre of the Innocents.

    Prayer Intention

     -- for all of the victims and perpetrators of violence in Syria and Iraq

2. In a Dream the Angel Warns Joseph to Flee with his Family.

    -- for all those faced with abandoning their homes, livelihoods and communities

3. The Holy Family Make the Perilous Crossing of the Desert
    -- for all those risking their lives crossing the conflict zones, deserts and the sea.
4. Jesus, Mary and Joseph Find Refuge Among the Egyptians
    -- for all those working daily to assist and welcome the refugees
5. The Holy Family Are Able to Return to Nazareth
    -- for an end to the conflict and peace with reconciliation in Syria

This is just my way.  But in whatever way you.  Choose to pray, please pray for the refugees and for an end to the war in Syria.

Why I Always Use Red Bole

It turns out that burnished water gilding, that is applying gold leaf to a bole ground and then polishing it with an agate (or a dog's tooth) burnisher until it shines, is actually easier than you'd think it would be.  The secret is to apply a thin coat of gilder's clay mixed with size to the gesso, sand and polish it, and apply the gold leaf.  Piece of cake --  sort of -- as long as everything goes exactly right.  But if the clay/glue ratio is off, or its too dry or too humid, or there is unusual solar flare activity, forget about it going as planned.

But lately I've been able to manage to get pretty good results gilding and burnishing haloes.  Not bad for 35 years of effort!  Pretty OK.   Not perfect-the gilding is NEVER perfect, there's inevitably a flaw, a fault, a thin spot or a pinhole if you look carefully enough, which why bole is usually red. (The red makes the faults disappear.)

Seems to me an apt, if homely metaphor for grace .  The color is wrong, of course -  it is our sins that are like scarlet, not grace, but isn't it grace that covers over our faults, failings and sins and makes them disappear?

The Egg and I

Had a few minutes last evening to paint in the studio, where I'm working on two little icons - one is of the Mother of God of Kazan, the other is of Christ.  They are both on egg tempera, a painting medium of great antiquity by which earth or mineral pigments are bound together with egg yolk and applied to a wooden panel that has been surfaced with plaster.

Which got me to thinking about my first encounter with egg tempera back when I was in high school.  The DeYoung Museum in San Francisco in 1972 had an exhibition of the paintings of the 20th century American painter Andrew Wyeth.  His subject matter didn't particularly appeal to me, but his painting medium, which was egg tempera, certainly did.

At the exhibit, it was possible to get up very close to each of the paintings and to look carefully at how he handled the paint.  (So much is lost in a photographic  reproduction of a painting!)  The transparency of the colors, yet their saturation and vibrancy immediately appealed to me.  Unlike in an oil painting, in an egg tempera painting, gradations of color are not made by blending colors on the palette  but with hatching lines, applied in overlapping strokes of pure color onto the panel.  Wyeth's palette was largely earth colors - yellow and red ochers, green earths and various umbers and siennas, (which, unbeknownst to me at the time, is the foundational palette of iconpainting).

Fortunately for me, my dad taught theatre and stagecraft, and had bins of dry pigrment, which, mixed with hot glue, were at that time, used for stage painting.  And our refrigerator had a carton of eggs, so I set out to paint an egg tempera painting on a sheet of masonite primed with acrylic gesso (knowing nothing about supports and grounds!)   It turned out OK, but my life and my life as an artist took a different direction until a decade later I found myself learning how to paint icons -- in egg tempera!

Breaking Radio Silence

After two years of radio silence its time to start blogging again.   Its not that I ever stopped writing - far from it.  Rather, all of my writing, all the time seemed to be for work.  Which is important writing to do, but all the energy for my own writing, for this blog, drained away.  I hadn't exactly lost my voice, but I was having trouble finding it. 

A lot to share.  Stay tuned.