Saturday, 20 July 2024

Witnessing beauty

 Second Sunday before Lent: 4 February 2024: 

Proverbs 8:1, 22-31,  Colossians 1:15-20 and John 1:1-4



Image Readers Digest


Mark Denman said of his work or art:  ‘photographers don't take pictures. They create images’.


Images are everywhere; we’re surrounded by visual representations.


Drawings, paintings and photographs; or for some of us, forming a mental image of something. 


Images conveying different meanings or feelings; or representing a concept or idea.


Adverts convey not only the brand of fruit juice, jeans or shampoo - but lifestyle, aspirations and status.


We might be concerned with our own self-image: how we feel about ourselves, how we’re perceived by others. 


We’ve become used to having a camera in our pocket: capturing moments, making memories. 


We balance being present in a moment of beauty with the urgency of capturing a digital image of what passes before our eyes.


Often we’re drawn to images of light: colour, brightness, shadows, reflections. 


Mark Denman reflects that ‘God creates the beauty. Through my camera, I am a witness’. 


Our first lesson from Proverbs reminded us of the way in which God rejoices in humanity and in the inhabited world. The wisdom of God delights in the depths and heights of creation; in springs of water, fields and mountains; in all that moves on the face of the earth.


There is a playfulness to such a description: something we want to delight in and hold onto in the images we take; but something that perhaps we miss in the pace of life; as human beings consume, develop and exploit; something we want to reclaim in all we conserve, research and protect.


Things are no longer the way they were; we long for the renewal of creation and for freedom from decay. The God who created all things seen and unseen is no unmoved-mover, but one whose love continues to reach out to us - to restore and to heal. 


The opening of John’s Gospel draws us into the great mystery at the heart of our faith: that the Word of God which was from the beginning became human, became flesh, dwelt with us. 


The one who brought life and light does not abandon our bruised and beautiful world; does not turn away from our hurting and hopeful human race. The light still shines in the darkness - and the darkness did not, and will not, overcome it. 


The nature of God is to love: to continue to reach out to us, even when we turn away; even when we get caught up in our own desires; even when we distort the truth for our own ends; even when we feel alone or uncertain.


Whether our hearts are full of joy and delight, or whether they carry hurt and sorrow, the pulse of love is there: holding us, guiding us, drawing us to its heart.


Perhaps we should worry less about how much love we have for God and embrace the truth that we are loved by God: something so simple; something we might spend a lifetime accepting. 


In Jesus we see God’s ways in human flesh: concerned to heal and willing to forgive; challenging priorities and use of wealth; sharing food and wine; putting the youngest at the centre; giving voice to the voiceless; bearing the pain with us; opening up new life; reminding us that we are children of God; inviting to risk loving and serving others.


In the Word made flesh we see the glory, grace and truth of God’s love.


What if we allow that seed of love to take root in us: to say we are loved; God delights in us. How might that change how we see ourselves, how we respond to others, how we use our time?


In Colossians, we hear Jesus described as ‘the image of the invisible God’: the one who was before the beginning, who creates and holds together. In him the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, in the substance of our flesh. In him all things are reconciled to Godself.


That work of reconciliation is revealed as love goes to the depths of human separation, pain and despair. The blood shed on the cross is the beginning of a new birth - the opening up of a way of peace as light and love confronts the darkness of death and is not overcome by it. 


The one who is the image of the invisible God is also the head of the body, the church. We are invited to have the mind of Christ in what we say; to show the compassion of Christ in what we do; to share the light of Christ when others struggle; to receive the love of Christ when we need each other - when someone else carries the light for us, so that we can find our way.


Jesus comes as the image of God not to condemn but to set free; not to punish but to heal and save. Therefore, the church is to embrace others - without prejudice or discrimination - but because in each human being we see the image of God. 


Everyone is part of God’s plan for salvation: we might not see it here on earth. Some things are fully reconciled when God is all in all. For now, we are invited to face the darkness recognising that the tragic and overwhelming are not the final reality. 


There is a light of new hope which gives us courage and strength; which enables us to make a new start. 


We have the image of God with us: love made real even when it hurts. We carry the image of God in us: holding the light and the delight. It is this wisdom that bids us eat and break bread together; that word that invites us to share outpoured wine and be blessed. 


It is God who creates the beauty - restores the hope and sustains the love. May the Spirit be at work in us as our lives become the witness to those things. 


© Julie Gittoes 2024