We pray that God would meet us where we are and move us on to where he would have us be
Amen
Melanie refers to http://www.rembrandtpainting.net/rmbrndt_1655-1669/1655-69_images/prodigal_son.jpg
Rembrandt was close to his death when he painted his picture of the Prodigal Son. It was probably one of his last works. It might not be too far fetched to see something of Rembrandt in the old father. A half blind old man, with a moustache and beard laying his large stiff hands on the shoulders of the younger son. What does the nearly blind father see as his hands touch the back of the returning son ?
He sees more than most of us -
An eternal seeing
A seeing that reaches out to all of humanity
He sees and understands how men and women throughout time are lost
He sees and knows the suffering of those who have chosen to leave home
His heart burns with a desire to bring his children home
How much he would have liked to talk to them
warn them against dangers they were facing
To convince them that they will find all they need at home
How much would he have wanted to hold them close
so that they would not get hurt.
But his love cannot force or push or pull.
It offers the freedom to reject that love or to love in return.
Part of that freedom is the chance to leave home,
to go to a distant country
to lose everything.
As father he has to allow this to happen
To let his children pierce his heart
From the place where love embraces grief, the Father reaches out to his children.
The touch of his hands seeks to heal.
The father's hands are at the centre of the painting.
Look at how the light is drawn to them
How each of the people standing and sitting
gaze on the father hands
It is in the hands that we have a visible sign of forgiveness, reconciliation, healing.
In many ways this is a self portrait of Rembrandt
Rembrandt the father who saw his wife, three sons, two daughters, and his two partners die. Rembrandt, like each of us, was created in the image of God.
He discovered through his long painful struggle, the true nature of that image
The image of an almost blind old man, crying, blessing his deeply wounded son.
Then there is the elder son – standing to the right in the picture.
He watches, withdrawn. He looks at the father, but not with joy. He just stands – stiff and erect, a long staff reaching from his hand to the floor.
The fathers hands are spread out, the son’s are clasped together, held close to his chest. The light on the Father engulfs the younger son. The light on the face of the elder son is cold, constricted. His figure is in the dark, his clasped hands in the shadows.
He is truly lost. He has become a foreigner in his own house. Every relationship is in darkness. He can be afraid or show disdain, he can submit or enforce control, he can oppress or be a victim. There is little choice for one outside the light.
Sins cannot be confessed. Forgiveness cannot be recieved, mutual love cannot exist, true communion is impossible.
Is there a way out ?
He needs light, but a light that can conquer darkness
and he cannot bring that about himself
He cannot forgive himself
He cannot make himself feel loved
He cannot bring himself home
He cannot create communion on his own
He cannot make true freedom for himself
That must be given to him
He is lost
To be found he needs to be brought home by the shepherd who goes out to him.
Then there is the younger son
we see him here returning
Coming back
But what about the leaving?
Leaving home in the society that Luke wrote about
meant abandoning community,
values,
tradition.
It was a radical tearing away and rejection of home.
it was a denial of God
Ignoring the truth that God has moulded me,
knitted me together
Leaving home is living as though I do not yet have a home
and must look far and wide to find one.
What are we searching for when we leave home?
A place to belong
A place where we fit
A place where we can find unconditional love.
Let’s focus again on those hands
Hands that have always been stretched out
Hands that give us the freedom to leave home
Yet, hands that are always outstretched to receive us back and words that are whispered
'You are my Beloved, on you my favour rests'.
A portrait
A portrait of Rembrandt
A portrait of each one of us
A portrait of humanity
A portrait of the love of God
What do we see as we gaze at the portrait ?
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment