NSFW: Grace

NSFW = Not Suitable For Work (for internet non-mavens)

Sometimes I get carried away as I write about images or experiences. This post is NSFW if you are offended by disturbing allusions to spirituality, iconic religious symbols, theological language, or things so sublime I must resort to metaphor for their expression. If so, stop reading! You'll only harm yourself.

If you choose to ignore my warning, as you read, remember that I was a scientist for nearly forty years and I thought of myself as pretty hard-nosed and clear-eyed. But in this new artistic phase of life, I find myself learning new things, encountering the unexpected, surprised by joy, thinking less about the "what" and more about the "why" of things.

Photography has taken me to some surprising discoveries. Not just to beautiful locations, it has lead me into places of the soul that I had long forgotten, disdained, discounted, or refused to respect, to consider. But as the journey continues, I find myself confronting more frequently the "why" of creativity, the "why" of a given image. So it was a few years ago I posted here a blog entitled, Why take a photograph? One reason, for me, is that it gives me joy, perhaps a joy that can be shared with another. But usually, when I am out taking pictures, I am not thinking at all, I am being. In the moment. The camera becomes an extension of myself, my eyes, my hands, my brain. Sure I think about exposure, shutter speed, f-stop, and composition; you might call it the "what" of photography. My recent discovery, however, is that the "why" often reveals itself after I go back through a series of images asking myself, what is it that intrigues me about this or that photograph? Why did the subject call to me? What was it inside me that caused me to press the shutter? What was I trying to say? If a picture is worth a thousand words, what are they? Where do they come from? On with the story!

It was our last day in Iceland and returning to Reykjavik, we stopped at an odd small church, a chapel really, its roof covered in sod and dandelions. Dismounting from our tour bus with my colleagues, I remember thinking it a tawdry little tourist stop. Boring as it was, I went through the motions, snapping away. Our return schedule was tight and I was the last one climbing onto the bus because something had called to me at the last minute. I stopped, adjusted the settings on my camera, composed, pressed the shutter, and trotted off to the coach, not giving it a second thought. Covering is the result you see below. Not a great photograph, but I hope you find it has an interesting story.

Covering

I shared this picture with my mother's youngest sister, Connie Patrick, knowing she would like a "church" picture from Iceland. You know it's a "church picture" because of the cross, right? Again, I didn't give it a second thought. But in a return email, Connie asked me, "Why did I choose that title? What were you thinking when you took this?" Honest questions, they deserved an honest answer. As you know I alluded to above, I wasn't thinking much about anything when I captured this! And this is where I get to the surprising part about where photography has taken me, sometimes unsuspectingly, which the following describes.

When I processed this in Photoshop, two months later, I don't know why I was thinking about grace. Serendipity really, I wasn't trying to make a statement, the image just guided me. Grace covers us and without it, none can stand. Often, we go unaware of the gracious covering we enjoy, from our spouses, our co-workers, our friends, our bosses, even, our Creator though few seem to believe anymore. What do we have that has not been given to us? Of course, the photograph is full of symbolism. The sun covers us in warmth and yet the trees and atmosphere cover us and shade us from the dangerous effects of solar radiation. So too, the sky covers the earth and all that live upon it. The roof covers the chapel and is itself covered with sod and a thick splattering of flowers; it covers and insulates, it decorates! It is oddly beautiful. The cross stands over and covers the entrance to this quaint little church. It reminds us of, yet covers, our estrangement from the Creator; some call it sin, others moral failure, the desperateness of the human condition, the things about our existence that make us weep. It is a gracious covering that shields us from the righteous demands of justice and compassion and love, responsibilities before which we always seem to come up short. Secular humanism has no recourse for woulda, coulda, shoulda, no need for forgiveness.

Grace. It is an image loaded with unintentional symbolism, but really it was grace that allowed me to be in that place at that time and grace that enabled me to see. I didn't set out to discover it, more that it found me. Some would say lucky, but I cannot; that implies something haphazard and I cannot believe that. Fortunate I was and fortunate, I am. And, most importantly, grace shared, covers us. It is the greatest of gifts and something to keep in mind as we face the new year.

I don't know if it is the season, the awful discourse of our national politics, the shame of our world's condition, or simply my advancing years. We could all use a little covering, a little grace, and if this inspires you, let's spread some of it around, wherever grace seems to be needed.

If I have somehow offended you, please know that it was not my intention. Some people consider such subject matter impolitic. Truth is sometimes like that, but you can always put me in the SPAM folder!😉