42.23.34

As we enter Holy Week, we approach the end of Lent. I have not always been a fan of the liturgical calendar, but it is slowly growing on me. I think it has something to do with getting older, years blending, and time (age) being less important. For me this blending comes with a sort of nostalgia for the repetitions of existence. Maybe it was just the circles I am traveling in this year, but Lent took on new potency. In a large part because of the “hit” of Atheism for Lent, as it shed some alternative perspectives on what Lent might look like for individuals.

I am not very good at giving things up for Lent, nor have I found doing so to be a formative experience. Therefore, this year, rather than giving up something, I decided to intentionally reflect. I was not sure what that might look like at the beginning. But as Lent progressed, I found myself thinking a lot about the void, nihilism, and the abyss. This is not an uncommon state of reflection for me, nor was it disconnected from my academic studies. I read Feuerbach’s “The Essence of Christianity” for class, in which he argues all of Christianity is just projection of Man onto the Heavens. This can be troubling for some to view their beliefs as nothing more than projections of themselves, yet for me it was a devotional endeavour. Examining beliefs, finding myself within them, analyzing what might be me, what might be “other” than me, was an interesting process. In this reflective state, there is a lot of time to view one’s own evil, sin, loss, failure (whatever you want to call it). This posture leads back to my own emptiness, the hollow shell of life, the meaninglessness of existence, and often the pervasive experience of the absence of God.

When I stare into the void, I am either wooed in, or propelled outwards. The abyss has the ability to offer a strange sense of solace, in the absence of all there is deep calm. OR, my surroundings propel me back into the sensual reality around me. The necessity of food, life, light, routine all act as forces pulling me back into space and time. It is a dance, to and fro.

These reflections were furthered by Kierkegaard’s book, “The Sickness unto Death.” In which he argues that the self’s relation to itself, by necessity, must be realized through an external third. Thus, everyone is in despair if that third is not God. Yet even if you think you are relating to God, you are probably not, because it might be your own piety, or any number of Idols you think are God, but will in fact be revealed to not be God. (Peter Rollin’s new book “Idolatry of God” explores some ways of thinking about this; considering that God is often an idol of certainty and satisfaction, not in fact God). In this, the void is ever present; it is just beneath the surface of the things that pull away from the void. Beneath the joy of one moment is the emptiness of the next.

The final part of my reflection was writing the paper I posted two weeks ago, “Is Evangelicalism Worth a Bailout.” In which I consider the intersection of Capitalism, atonement theory, the rise of Evangelicalism, and environmentalism. While dwelling upon this topic, I was once again confronted by the horrors of human action, the stark depravity of the systems we have created, the rape of Mother Earth, and the blame we all must own due to our complacency with such systems.

It was a Lent full of lament.

I often find myself thinking in images. As I was considering the world, reflecting upon Lent, and the death of Jesus, I was drawn back to two of my favourite artists. First, Kazimir Malevich, who confronting despair, anxiety, and life reduced things to geometric shapes. (See Black Square, my first interaction with Malevich).

The second artist is Emily Carr, which is probably due to living in Vancouver. One of her paintings is probably my favourite rendition of the crucifixion. The three trees remain after a clear cut. They draw the viewer into the heavens. The painting confronts one with the horror and ecological destruction of clear cutting the magnificent old-growth forests of BC. Simultaneously, however, the viewer is being drawn out of one’s horror and into the light.

I took some time this reading break to work on a project of depicting my Lenten reflections by bringing together these two artists. I painted a crucifixion scene. It is a grey cityscape, which doubles as a Malevich inspired Cross. I think the rest is self-explanatory. I have found it helpful as an Icon leading me into the despair of the cross. In the spirit of Atheism for Lent, I encourage you to use it as an Icon of despair this Holy Week. As we move towards Friday, try to experience it without the knowledge that Sunday is coming. Experience the week as if Friday is the END.

42.23.34: “Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.’”

I would love to know your thoughts, questions, comments, and emotions, regarding this piece or anything I wrote.