When the editors set out to curate potential artwork for the cover of this issue, we were tasked with a bigger project than we knew. As with any issue of Conversations, we aim to connect the image on the cover to the theme of spiritual formation about which we’re asking writers to dialogue within the issue. In the case of Issue 11.1, there are galleries full of art that depict the element of water. Christocentric works. Historical paintings. Images of baptisms in rivers, or streams flowing through the Garden. We weren’t short on imagery for the topic “Streams of Living Water.” But the subtitle of this issue, that little phrase after the colon, “Celebrating the Great Traditions of the Christian Faith,” presented a bit of a conundrum in our search. That is, until we came across “Celebrant” by Tim Lowly.  

As you may have noticed, we have begun opening up the cover of Conversations to host artwork by contemporary and living artists. That isn’t because we’re moving away from historical and classical artwork. Instead, we have been intentionally choosing pieces that speak back and forth to one another across issues, with orthodox works like the Icon of the Trinity, followed by more abstract pieces like Makoto Fujimura’s “The Four Gospels.” This ancient/modern movement is meant to engage you, our readers, in an awareness that the community of Christ, those intentionally seeking transformation in the way of Jesus are formed and transformed both by our historical roots and our contemporary cultural settings. The representation of both ancient and modern art is another way the streams of living water flow through each and every issue of the journal. 

“Celebrant” arrested our attention, as we hope that it arrests yours. Not only does it embody the streams that represent the six great traditions of the Christian faith, but this image also evokes both place and story. There are questions asked of the viewer that don’t have immediate answers: How old is the girl in the piece, and why does she stand alone? What are we to make of the subtle implications of her economic standing, and how do we, as viewers of art, relate to that implied poverty? As the girl lifts her hands to heaven to receive the water from above, is she desperate for a drink or freely celebrating the life poured down from above? 

These and other questions complicate our interactions with “Celebrant,” just as the difficult questions of our life of faith seem to complicate our relationship with God and one another. This “complication” pushes into relationship with God in Christ, seeking His work, His power, His life in order to navigate without the formulas that would make life simple but sterile. 

The works of author Luci Shaw speak into this dialogue between viewer and painting with a different tone and perspective. Where the visual artist creates with brushstrokes, the poet paints with words. Shaw’s poems “Raining” and “Showers in the Foothills” companion “Celebrant” in another mode of tasting and seeing the themes of water, tradition, attention and redemption. Together, the three works form a Trinitarian relationship around the theme of “Streams of Living Water,” weaving into and out of one another just as the six great traditions of the Christian faith do—enriching, challenging, questioning and strengthening one another as they flow out of the life of Christ into our lives in the Kingdom of God here and now. 

§

01.  Joannah Sadler in Conversation with Artist Tim Lowly

We recently had the opportunity to ask Tim Lowly about the painting you see on the cover of this issue. Lowly is an artist in many forms; painter, musician, teacher, husband, father. He lives in Chicago where he is a professor and artist-in-residence at North Park University.  

 

Joannah Sadler: Tim, thank you for sharing your art with us! When searching for images to consider with the theme of “Streams of Living Water,” we were stopped in our tracks when we came across “Celebrant.” Our aim for this issue is to celebrate the streams (the six great traditions of the Christian faith as identified by Richard Foster)—which are all ways of celebrating life with God. Can you tell us a little about the painting? What inspired you? How did the title of the piece come about? 

Tim Lowly: The painting “Celebrant” was inspired by seeing a girl catching water coming off of the roof in a rain shower near where we were living in Grand Rapids, Michigan, in the mid-1980s. Upon reflection, I was struck by how her gesture resembled that of a priest (the celebrant) holding up the host during the Eucharist. On the board leaning up against the porch in the foreground are the words “only say t . . . ,” referencing the liturgy from the Eucharist: “Only say the word and we shall be healed.”  

I can’t say what my intention was exactly, but when I look at this image now, I see it as suggesting the significance of those people and actions that we might (dis)regard as culturally and otherwise marginal. 

Incidentally, there is another painting called “Communicant” that functions as a kind of companion to this image. It is a far more disturbing image: a kind of contemporary crucifixion image set in what appears to be Central America. In it a soldier drinks water tainted by the blood of a massacre he has apparently been part of—kind of a reflection on the cycle of violence.  

 

JS: Do you have any suggestions for the observer as they take in the image and reflect on what what’s happening in the painting? 

TL: Perhaps it would be helpful to try to think of art’s historical or cultural precedents, but that might not be the direction someone wants to go. Generally, I like it when folks make it up for themselves. 

 

JS: I’m relieved to hear that as an artist, you not only share your gift of creativity [with us] but encourage those that view your art to experience the creative process as well. Thank you for sharing “Celebrant” with us, and inviting us into an encounter with the Living Water through your work. 

 

*    *    * 

 

Water as an element, symbol, and mediator of the presence of God runs throughout the Biblical narrative. Genesis 1 begins with the Spirit of God hovering over the waters and flows toward the river in Eden that feeds the Garden of Delight. In Revelation, the Tree of Life straddles the River of Life that feeds the City of God, its waters nourishing and bringing about redemption. That same river runs through almost all the pages of Scripture, through the history of the Church, to us today. Its source is the Living Water that Jesus offered the Samaritan woman at the well (John 4:1–26). 

Spend a few moments just taking some time to relax and sit with “Celebrant.” Encounter this image in a type of visio divina. Slow your breathing down and don’t try to “make sense” of the painting right away—indeed, don’t be afraid to “make it up for yourself,” as Lowly says. Perhaps pray a short prayer before beginning this experience, giving this time to God and asking Him to speak to you through this visual and poetic meditation. 

Glance over the painting now, gently, without having to take it apart piece by piece. Notice with curiosity where your eyes travel to first. What draws you to this place in the painting? What might the invitation of God be through this to you in particular? 

Now, notice the streams of water flowing from the skies, onto the rooftop, and over the girl’s outstretched hands. How does that position of openness feel to you? Do you receive God’s living water in that posture, or do you currently feel less receptive? What might God be whispering to you through this girl’s openness? 

Then, consider the six great traditions of the Christian faith: contemplative, evangelical, social justice, charismatic, holiness and incarnational. Which of the streams do you see represented in “Celebrant”? Which are missing for you? 

If each of the spouts of water coming off the roof in the painting represented one of the six streams, which one would you be standing under most directly, like the young girl? Which ones seem to be a side spout to where you are at the moment in your journey with God? Dialogue with God about this, either by prayer or journaling. Is God asking you to notice anything in particular about your relationship with Him and with other Christian traditions? 

Now, spend some time reading poet Luci Shaw’s two water-themed poems, “Raining” and “Showers in the Foothills” (at the end of this article). Receive them as you would in the practice of lectio divina. First, read them through slowly, noticing if any word or phrase stands out to you, as if highlighted. Consider whether you’re drawn more strongly to one poem or the other.  

As you sit quietly with that word or phrase, ask God to reveal to you what He may be speaking as you read the poems again. What does this word or phrase mean to you, today, in your context? 

Read the poems a third time, noticing the smells, sounds, tastes, and touches. Invite the poetry to truly come to life. What do you experience in these poems that you didn’t experience before? What aspect stands out in this third reading? 

Finally, return gently to “Celebrant,” holding your words and experiences with both “Raining” and “Showers in the Foothills.” Spend some time viewing the painting once more, not to analyze all of its component parts, but instead noticing how your seeing of the image has changed after reading the poetry. What stands out more sharply? What has receded from view? What sensory experiences have you noticed that you didn’t notice before? 

Spend some time talking with God about these observations, asking Him if He has something specific to speak to you through them. If He doesn’t, don’t be concerned, simply return to either the poems or the paintings with gratitude. 

Finally, spend some time in silence, simply savoring your experience of the Living Water of Christ through the medium of paint, paper, water, and words. Give thanks to God for the breadth and depth of the life of Christ in you and in His whole Church. 

§

02.  Poems by Luci Shaw

These poems originally appeared in Luci Shaw, <I>Water Lines: New and Selected Poems</I> (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2003). Used with permission from the author.

Raining 

Like spun silk, water seeks
to find its end, a fluid form.
It shapes itself to multitudes of leaves 
and river beds, and overhanging eaves.
Gravity pulls the silver down, 
a fluid tent around the porch,
with filaments like fishing lines. Thin ropes 
of crystal beads (their shining drops
each singing its own syncopated sound
into the pail we set to catch the drips)
have raised the level so the pitch 
climbs higher every hour, in the round 
tin bucket, till it’s full up to the brim. 
Like rain or sorrow, loving takes its time 
to name its music 
or to find a rhyme.  

—Luci Shaw 

 

Showers in the Foothills 

Perhaps it takes a thunderstorm for me 
to hear the songs of showers. I am a tree. 
The clear rain pebbles touch each coin of 
my leafy greenness like a piano key.
Below, then, clouds and sky begin to shine
from pools and puddles as the falling line
of rain—the complication of the torrent—
moves off. Storm flinches, then abates, is spent,
is simplified into its glossiest sheen, 
leaves only music singing from the green.  

—Luci Shaw 

 

To view more artwork on this theme, “Streams of Living Water: Celebrating the great traditions of the Christian faith,” turn to page 6 and see what some of our readers submitted. We’ve also created a special gallery on our website for these submissions.