Every so often I enjoy looking at stained glass
windows. Most often, especially in churches, stained glass windows tell
a story. Our windows are not as elaborate as some others but they still
tell us a story by using symbols that for many of us are no longer understandable
or evocative.
Most people living in the Middle Ages were illiterate, but they were in
touch with symbols. Churches were built with this in mind and the story
of our faith was told in pictures and symbols. The windows and artwork drew
the faithful into an experience of salvation history - God active in human
history.
The people also learned about their faith and were in touch with
God through the use of sacramentals (the use of holy water, ashes, devotions
to Mary, pilgrimages, festivals, relics, icons, statues, and a number of
other rites and rituals) and the seven sacraments. They wove all of these
into their own cultural traditions, making them a part of their everyday
lives.
Literacy changed this approach to learning about our faith and being
in touch with God. Literacy brought with it individualism and symbols lost
their power to teach us. Now when we look at a story depicted symbolically
we need someone to interpret what the symbols mean and the story they tell.
We need the sacraments explained verbally to us instead of simply being
experienced. This is neither good nor bad, it simply is.
The difficulty
that it presents is that we no longer relate well with symbols. They no
longer provide us with a story to weave into our cultural traditions. They
are viewed in an objective and detached manner. Words have become our chosen
medium and, with words, analysis and explanation.
Hence, we seldom see a
mystery as an invitation to explore endless meaning. (This is the true definition
of mystery.) We instead approach mystery in the manner that we approach
everything - as a problem to be solved or fixed.
Seen from this perspective,
the mystery of the Trinity that we celebrate today becomes a problem to
be analyzed and solved rather than a journey to be walked or a relationship
to be developed. When the emphasis is upon solving a problem we can't live
in the mystery. The focus is upon me solving or fixing instead of the mystery
unfolding itself within me.
When we approach the mystery of the Trinity
as a symbol unfolding itself within us, it no longer is a reality that we
will never completely understand. The mystery of the Trinity provides us
instead with infinite understanding - infinite meaning. The mystery of the
Trinity (like all mysteries) teaches us that we need to live in what we
don't understand (no matter how painful this might be for us), rather than
trying to solve or fix what we perceive as a problem.
We can begin to learn
how to live in this way by occasionally viewing a symbol, be it a stained
glass window, a good painting, or a sacramental action, and resist the temptation
to immediately read or listen to information about it. Instead, allow the
symbol to reveal itself to you.
A few years ago I was visiting an art museum
and I came upon a painting that grabbed my attention and held it. I remained
gazing at the picture for several minutes. Then I found myself moving to
see the painting from different angles, and each move offered me something
new. Before leaving the museum I found myself returning to this painting
several times. Somehow this painting was connecting to something deep within
me that could not be conceptualized or verbalized.
Maybe this is a helpful
place to begin - learning how to gaze. Gazing is very different than looking.
When we look, what we are viewing is seen through colored lenses - our biases
and points of view. The seeing originates in me and our purpose is to analyze
- to take apart. When we gaze, we view what is being presented to us. The
seeing originates not in me but with the other and the purpose is to symbolize
- to put together. Most of the artwork depicting the Trinity begins here:
God gazing at Jesus, Jesus gazing at God, and the Spirit being the gaze.
|