Von Angesicht zu Angesicht
Face to face: imagining Paradise
Left to right, texts illuminating: Isaiah 35, Matthew 6:19-21, 1 Corinthians 13:12-13, and Psalm 84
This project began out of a partnership between my church and a beautiful church in Berlin, Projekt:Kirche. They invited us to visit with them and present an art exhibit in their space. I asked their pastor what they'd be preaching on for the duration of the exhibit, and he shared that they were considering digging in to the concept of Paradise.
I went on a retreat in April to discern and pray and begin work on this small collection of paintings. Over the next six weeks, the collection grew to thirteen paintings, and I shipped them to Germany in May. In June, we had a beautiful opening with church and neighborhood members attending.
I went on a retreat in April to discern and pray and begin work on this small collection of paintings. Over the next six weeks, the collection grew to thirteen paintings, and I shipped them to Germany in May. In June, we had a beautiful opening with church and neighborhood members attending.
ABOUT THE WORK
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know fully, as I am fully known. Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is love.
-1 Corinthians 13:12-13
These verses from 1 Corinthians 13 are part of a text that is often read at weddings, since they convey the importance of the virtue of love. But for me, these verses speak to something much deeper and more radical than the notion of romantic love, and they became the grounding verses for this small collection of paintings inspired by the idea of Paradise.
I believe that Paradise is not simply a place where sorrow and suffering are forever eradicated and where hope, beauty, and goodness reign forevermore. I believe that Paradise is also available only in the presence of a particular person—Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. It is through him we are able to begin the process of drawing closer to being face to face with God, being seen to the deepest depths of who we are, deeper even than we know ourselves, and loved fully in a way that transforms our experience of reality so completely that it can begin to bring paradise into the present moment.
The concept of heaven can bring a lot of baggage with it for many people who have had negative experiences of the church. I know it did for me, for many years. When people shared their faith with me when I was younger, it was often framed with an argument that was fear-based and tended to go something like this, “You had better accept Jesus, or you will go to hell.” That message did not feel loving, transformative, or helpful. It felt like fear-mongering. Later in life, I encountered Jesus, and when I began to see what he had actually done in his earthly ministry, and more intimately, what he had done for me, I fell in love.
That love has begun the process of transforming me, my relationships, and the way I experience life in this world. I have been a Christian for around thirteen years, and in those years, my suffering and struggle in this world have only intensified as they often do with age. And yet, the joy and wonder and beauty I have experienced have deepened beyond my imagination’s wildest desires. Somehow, these present sufferings are transmuted into something else, in brief moments or for whole seasons. “Something else” often looks like joy in the midst of sorrow, deep places of empathy and knowing with my fellow humans who I can support in ways I would never have been able to without such personal experiences of suffering, and a closeness to Jesus in his own suffering that is a gift I could never receive through a painless and self-fulfilled existence.
And so I am thankful for Jesus, and his love for me and all of creation, which gave him the strength to suffer unimaginably on our behalf. And I am thankful that Jesus was not just a man, but God in flesh, and that his suffering was not meaningless, but so transformative in its power that a wilderness as bleak as the grave is itself transformed into a lush paradise garden where we will live in the presence of love forever. In that place we will be seen, loved, and known at such unimaginable depths that shame and sorrow will be cast into the depths of the sea, never to be seen again.
For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know fully, as I am fully known. Now these three remain: faith, hope, and love—but the greatest of these is love.
-1 Corinthians 13:12-13
These verses from 1 Corinthians 13 are part of a text that is often read at weddings, since they convey the importance of the virtue of love. But for me, these verses speak to something much deeper and more radical than the notion of romantic love, and they became the grounding verses for this small collection of paintings inspired by the idea of Paradise.
I believe that Paradise is not simply a place where sorrow and suffering are forever eradicated and where hope, beauty, and goodness reign forevermore. I believe that Paradise is also available only in the presence of a particular person—Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah. It is through him we are able to begin the process of drawing closer to being face to face with God, being seen to the deepest depths of who we are, deeper even than we know ourselves, and loved fully in a way that transforms our experience of reality so completely that it can begin to bring paradise into the present moment.
The concept of heaven can bring a lot of baggage with it for many people who have had negative experiences of the church. I know it did for me, for many years. When people shared their faith with me when I was younger, it was often framed with an argument that was fear-based and tended to go something like this, “You had better accept Jesus, or you will go to hell.” That message did not feel loving, transformative, or helpful. It felt like fear-mongering. Later in life, I encountered Jesus, and when I began to see what he had actually done in his earthly ministry, and more intimately, what he had done for me, I fell in love.
That love has begun the process of transforming me, my relationships, and the way I experience life in this world. I have been a Christian for around thirteen years, and in those years, my suffering and struggle in this world have only intensified as they often do with age. And yet, the joy and wonder and beauty I have experienced have deepened beyond my imagination’s wildest desires. Somehow, these present sufferings are transmuted into something else, in brief moments or for whole seasons. “Something else” often looks like joy in the midst of sorrow, deep places of empathy and knowing with my fellow humans who I can support in ways I would never have been able to without such personal experiences of suffering, and a closeness to Jesus in his own suffering that is a gift I could never receive through a painless and self-fulfilled existence.
And so I am thankful for Jesus, and his love for me and all of creation, which gave him the strength to suffer unimaginably on our behalf. And I am thankful that Jesus was not just a man, but God in flesh, and that his suffering was not meaningless, but so transformative in its power that a wilderness as bleak as the grave is itself transformed into a lush paradise garden where we will live in the presence of love forever. In that place we will be seen, loved, and known at such unimaginable depths that shame and sorrow will be cast into the depths of the sea, never to be seen again.
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