The Medieval Evolution of the Cross

The world that was Medieval Europe was, by and large, governed by the Catholic Church. Everything from a person's daily diet to the treatment of various diseases were influenced by how the church interpreted the will of God in relation to these seemingly mundane daily activities.  In short, the ritual that is life had to be put in harmony with the ritual that was devotion to Jesus the Christ.

And as the Medieval world evolved over the centuries, the understanding and implementation of these various Christian rituals evolved as well. Church and secular leaders, spread throughout the continent, worked tirelessly to enact laws, publish decrees, enforce standards of conduct, and, in short, do all that was deemed necessary to ensure that those under their charge were living a life of pious devotion.

And though these laws did much to help shape the character that was the typical Medieval peasant disciple, it only had a superficial effect.  Medieval peasantry, though certainly influenced by the laws and decrees of their respective lands, were still free to believe whatever they ultimately felt in their heart.  And since things like reading scripture and other holy writ were forbidden (not to mention the fact that most peasants were illiterate), Medieval peasants were forced to find spiritual stimulation in other ways.  Certainly the liturgy of the Mass was quite influential, as were the various feast days, saints, etc.  But since reading was out of the question, this meant that the VISUAL religious experience took precedent in shaping how Medieval peasants understood their faith.

In his article, "From Triumphant to Suffering Jesus: Visual and Literary Depictions of the Crucifixion, 300-1200" historian Michael Stewart explores how the depictions of Christ's crucifixion evolved over a millenia, ultimately culminating with the Renaissance. These crucifixion scenes started with dark, abstract depictions, but eventually evolved to reveal a very human Jesus of deep suffering and agony.  As a result, many of these later Renaissance crucifixion motifs contributed to the persecution of Jews throughout Europe in the twelfth century.

One does not need to be an expert in Medieval history or the history of art to see the obvious changes in crucifixion art that took place over the course of the 900 years that Michael Stewart discusses in his article.  Take, for example, a few basic images:

This image, for example, is from approximately 850 in Spain and reveals what Steward calls "the triumphant Christ."

According to Steward, the earliest depictions of Christ on the cross portrayed a living Jesus.  The early Medieval world actually abhorred depictions of a lifeless, suffering Christ on the cross, which they saw as meaningless.  Instead, early Medieval crucifixion scenes were often like the one above.

In addition, Stewart provides an additional reason for why these early Christians avoided creating death scenes for Christ when he writes: 

The Roman Empire had long admired martial virtues as the primary components of an ideal Roman male's identity, which helps explain the lack of interest in Christ's suffering for a religion that was focusing on converting a population that venerated the deeds of military men.

As a result, it is far more common for us to find the following depictions of Christ from early Medieval Christians:

Mosaic of Christ as Roman Emperor, found in Ravenna, Italy. 

This image of Christ reveals a triumphant, heroic savior of mankind, dressed in traditional Roman clothing, which was precisely the image that early Christians wanted to revere.

For many early Christians, the manner in which Christ died was seen as "unmanly" and certainly not worthy of a great leader (crucifixion was seen as a humiliating way to kill enemies of the State). Is it any surprise that these early Christians would either avoid the crucifixion scene entirely or depict in in a non-degrading manner?

But as Western Europe continued to evolve, the manner in which Christ was depicted evolved as well.  During the 9th and 10th centuries, Western European Christianity became far less individualistic.  As Stewart points out, "One no longer made a deliberate choice to become a Christian." Christianity was, for the most part, now a requirement.  In addition, an increase in the emphasis on Old Testament teachings (Medieval peasants were finding less in common with the now "ancient" Roman world but greater interest in the idea of ancient Israel) brought with it an increased desire to see Christ as the typical "Christian soldier" of the Crusades.  For example:

 This fresco, found in the "Visoci Decani" in modern day Kosovo, came with the accompanying verse from Matt. 10:34 which states, "Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace but a sword."

Again, a triumphant, quasi-militant Christ was the desired imagery for a people who were more than familiar with violence in the name of religion.

With the dawn of the Reformation and Renaissance, however, the Medieval world experienced a shift in how Christ was portrayed.  As Stewart states:

By the 10th century, we begin to see the first examples of a new type of crucifix which emphasized Christ's anguish. The movement gained momentum in the eleventh and twelfth centuries...This period of consolidation and change, created the need for reformers to protect themselves against both clerical and lay opponents.  Jesus presented a focal point around which the reformers could rely, in doing, the reformers emphasized Christ's humanity, which increasingly became an object of devotion and imitation.

The poignant example of Christ being preferred for his humanity and suffering can be found in the poem by Hildegard of Bingen, a twelfth-century nun and writer, who wrote:

Now, we call on you, our husband and comforter,
Who redeemed us on the cross.
We are bound to you through your blood,
as the pledge of betrothal.
We have renounced early men,
And chosen you the Son of God.
O most beautiful form.
O sweetest fragrance of desirable delights.
We sigh for you always in our sorrowful banishment!
When may we see you and remain with you?
But we dwell in the world,
And you dwell in our mind.
We embrace you in our heart as if you were here with us.

The imagery created in this poem is not of a warrior Christ or an impersonal emperor of both heaven and earth, but rather of a personal, even intimate Jesus who suffered with his people.  Is it any wonder why the crucifixion art of this time would take on a human, intimate and suffering tone:

   

The suffering Christ, surrounded by devastated loved ones, reflect the changes that were flooding into Western Europe.  The Renaissance and Reformation brought with them a greater emphasis on individuality, humanity, and promoted the personal, intimate Christ over the warrior Christ.  There can be little doubt that such depictions of the centerpiece of Christianity had a very real and very profound impact on Medieval peasants, who were, for the first time, beginning to see themselves in a very different light.

Paul Revere, the "Immersion" of Jesus, and the Complex Nature of Early American Religion

This past month, officials with the Library Preservation Department of Brown University uncovered a rare engraving (seen on the left) from our nation's founding period, which I believe illustrates the complexities of early American religion.  This engraving, which was completed by none other than Paul Revere, is a depiction of the baptism of Jesus Christ by John the Baptist.  As you can see, the engraving illustrates Christ's baptism as being done through immersion. 

Paul Revere was well known in his day for several of his artistic engravings, the most famous of course being his depiction of the Boston Massacre.  As an artisan, silversmith and dentist by trade, Revere was exceptionally gifted with his ability to create these artistic engravings, all of which helped to gain him notoriety during the early years of the American Revolution. 

But this particular engraving of Christ's baptism is noteworthy not just because of the artist who created it, but because it also sheds light on some interesting aspects of early American religion and the personal creed of Paul Revere himself.  As the son of a very devout French Huguenot who had immigrated to Boston, Revere was raised in a very devout Protestant home.  The family's primary loyalty rested with Christ's Church (Old North Church) where the children were raised in the traditional orthodoxy of their day. 

And though orthodoxy was an important component in the lives of many early American colonists, the sweeping tides of the First Great Awakening had brought about new ideas regarding humanity and its place with the divine.  For a young and intelligent boy like Paul Revere (who seemed to have an inherent attraction to revolutionary ways of thinking) these new ideas seemed to strike a chord.  Though originally drawn to the teachings of the Church of England, Revere eventually began to align himself with the West Church, and its controversial pastor Jonathan Mayhew.  Mayhew's provocative brand to preaching, particularly his support of resistance to civil authority and opposition of British "tyranny" had earned him a large number of supporters within the Boston area, particularly the young fifteen-year-old Paul Revere. 

Needless to say, Revere's newfound faith did not sit well with his extremely orthodox father.  In fact, Revere's decision to give ear to the radical Mayhew ended with him being on the receiving end of a severe beating at the hand of his father, which caused the young lad to "repent" of his error and return to his family's church (though he stayed close friends with Mayhew).  But it wasn't Mayhew's political views that angered Revere's father.  According to Joel Miller, author of the book, The Revolutionary Paul Revere, Revere's father wasn't upset over Mayhew's political rhetoric but rather over his "heretic" teachings:

Mayhew's politics weren't as radical as they might seem. Mayhew was speaking from what was by then a long tradition of civil resistance, primarily from the Calvinists. While John Calvin himself opposed rebellion, his Huguenot heirs in France penned treatises defending it: François Hotman, Theodore Beza, and Phillipe du Plessis-Mor-nay and his famous Vindiciae Contra Tyrannos. Ditto for Calvin's Puritan heirs like George Buchanan, Samuel Rutherford, and John Ponet. These writers shaped Puritan and Huguenot ideas about civil power and rights and were hardly radical to those standing in their stream. John Adams spoke glowingly of them. "The original plantation of our country was occasioned, her continual growth has been promoted, and her present liberties have been established by these generous theories," he wrote, specifically referring to Ponet and the Vindiciae.  All this matters because Paul's family was Calvinist. His dad was a Huguenot refugee from France and married into a Puritan family in Boston. Mayhew's politics wouldn't have been radical to him at all, and preachers all over Boston echoed Mayhew's political sentiments. The problem for Revere's dad was the rest of Mayhew's theology. Mayhew was a winsome, exciting preacher -- and also a heretic. He denied some basic Christian teachings, such as the Trinity. From my reading, Paul got the beating for lending ear to a heretic. Mayhew's politics were actually pretty orthodox for their time and place, which was one of the reasons Boston so quickly fell into their resistance against England. (My emphasis).

It was Mayhew's infamous unitarianism, mingled with Christianity, that angered Revere's family so much.  Resistance to some distant king or some foolish tax was one thing, but resistance to the Holy Trinity or God's one true faith was quite another.  This is why I find the engraving above to be of such interest.  As already mentioned, Revere was raised to embrace a very orthodox view of Puritan Christianity.  As a result, one has to wonder why Revere chose to depict the baptism of Jesus as being one by immersion, when the Puritans/Congregationalists taught baptism by sprinkling (particularly at infancy).  Could it be that Revere was once again challenging the faith of his father? 

Of course, it is difficult to say with absolute certainty why Revere chose to make this engraving.  Perhaps, like many others of his faith, he believed that Jesus was baptized by immersion but that the same was not needed for his followers.  Or perhaps he was simply trying to profit from the growing revivalism in the early years of the Second Great Awakening.  After all, we know that Revere had profited handsomely from the growing demand for church bells, becoming America's best-known bell caster.  Could engravings like these also been the result of his desire to make an extra buck?

I don't think so.  First off, this engraving is only one of five known in existence today.  In addition, there is zero evidence that the engraving was published in any of the books or pamphlets of the time.  Instead it appears that Revere made a relatively small number of these engravings and sent them to close associates.  As a result, it would stand to reason that these engravings were more for sentimental value than anything else.  This makes sense when we consider the fact that Revere elected to further his studies of "infidel" Christianity at the hands of Mayhew and others. 

With that said, it is important that we be careful not to classify Paul Revere as a unitarian, closet unitarian, etc.  Revere maintained a very close alliance with Congregationalism throughout the course of his adulthood.  Boston's New Brick Church was like a second home to Revere, as he was a regular in Sunday church services.  Clearly Revere maintained a love for his family's orthodox faith.  As a result, I have no problem with those who wish to classify Revere as a devout disciple of Christian orthodoxy.  With that said, I do think that these apparent "heathen" blips on the radar are noteworthy because they reveal the fact that almost nothing about early American religion (or any religion of any era for that matter) is cut and dry.  Like many of his time, Revere was questioning and thinking about matters of faith.  Was God really the totality of an obscure Trinity?  Is infant baptism/baptism by sprinkling really a requirement for heaven?  Is there really such a thing as "the one true faith?"  In the end, these are questions that are just as relevant today as they were 200 or 2,000 years ago, which proves that Paul Revere was a pretty stereotypical Christian of his time.

The Shadowy Life of Robert Frost

If you were to ask the average person to name a 20th century poet, chances are that a large number of people would name Robert Frost. Frost’s poetry has become legendary in modern times. He holds a unique place in the pantheon of elite poets as one of the best (or at the very least most popular) of the modern era.

One of the many attributes that make Frost unique is his interpretation of nature. Unlike most people, Frost seems to be not only unappreciative of nature, but he also associates nature with sadness, as opposed to most poets/writers who view nature as a thing of beauty. For Frost, nature is not beautiful, inviting and warm, but rather a world of darkness and emptiness. In reading and comparing the poems “Desert Places”, “The Road Not Taken”, and “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” (two of his most popular works) one can clearly see Frost’s view of nature as dark, lonely, and cold. Frost’s depiction of nature is a result of his personal hardships that in turn define nature as dark, lonely, and cold but also give the reader the reassurance that eventually everything will be ok. By understanding this reality, one can come to a greater appreciation and understanding of what Robert Frost is trying to convey through poetry.

The best way for a reader of poetry to understand Frost’s poems is to realize that Frost himself was a man well acquainted with grief. Frost lost several members of his immediate family to death in various ways. His wife died in the middle ages of her life, and three of Frost’s children also passed away unexpectedly, one committing suicide. Losing so many members of his immediate family must have taken a toll of Frost and served as influential moments in his life that shaped his character. Along with losing so many people to death, Frost also saw one of his daughters and a sister, succumb to mental illness. Suffering such tragedies would surely affect the mind of any human being, and Frost was sure to reflect upon those experiences at length during his life. These events come to life throughout his poetry. His ability to use nature as an outlet for his grief is more than apparent, and as Frost himself stated, “I’ve never written a poem without a person in it.” 

Being that Frost was used to death and grief, it makes sense to see images of dark, lonely and cold places in his poetry. In the poem “Desert Places”, Frost refers to the darkness of nature in the first line when he writes, “Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast. In a field I looked into going past.” Frost relates the rapidly approaching darkness with the coldness of snow. The feeling of emptiness in this particular setting, and in Frost’s life, helps us understand the field Frost “looked into going past” as possibly looking back to better days.

The darkness of Frost’s work and its interpretation can also be applied to his poem “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” The ending of this poem states, “The woods are lovely, dark and deep/ But I have promises to keep/ And miles to go before I sleep/ And miles to go before I sleep.” Here the image of a dark, snow-covered forest seems enticing to Frost. He appears to be longing to enter them, but then realizes he has “promises to keep.” What promises? Clearly this is left up to the interpretation of the reader, but can be better understood when taking Frost’s life experiences into account. Perhaps the woods serve as an escape from the painful realities of life. This interpretation would help to explain Frost’s realization of the promises he has to keep, and the miles he must go before being freed from the pains of his life. Frost could have been thinking back on the promises he had made to dying loved ones. Thinking on those promises then serve as the strength to avoid the woods, and to continue on the painful, but correct path.

In his poem “The Road Not Taken” Frost writes about a traveler coming to a fork in the road, and having to decide which route to take. He mentions how the traveler justifies to himself that he can take one rout and save “the first for another day!” This justification eventually gives way to reality when Frost writes, “Yet knowing how way leads on to way/ I doubted if I should ever come back.” The traveler’s justification makes it easier for him to stay on the course that has been chosen. Undoubtedly, many readers will look to this passage (and this poem) and relate it to those individuals in life who have made good choices, which have made “all the difference.” Frost however, may have seen this differently. The passage might signify mankind’s ability to justify the decisions they’ve made, so that they are able to feel better about the things they’ve done. There is no doubt that a person who has faced grief and tragedy would reflect on such things.

Throughout these three poems the reader is able to see the picture of emptiness and loneliness that Frost has painted. There are however, reassuring tones that reach out to the reader and reassure him/her that everything is going to be alright. “In Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” Frost depicts the traveler as aloof in the world when he writes, “Between the woods and the frozen lake/ The darkest evening of the year.” Frost then mentions the fact that the traveler is not alone. The traveler’s horse, “gives his harness bells a shake/ To ask if there is some mistake.” The reader may interpret the horse to be confused as to why they have stopped, but perhaps Frost was trying to say something else. The horse could have been trying to reassure the traveler that he is not alone, and that he (the horse) is also along for the ride. This reassuring interpretation helps the reader understand why the traveler continued on his way, instead of stopping at the inviting farmhouse.

This theme of reassurance after the darkness of nature is evident also in “The Road Not Taken.” In this poem a traveler comes to a fork in the road. After choosing which path to endure the traveler looks back on the journey, realizing that the path he/she has taken was the correct one. Frost takes courage in the conclusion of this poem when he writes, “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-I took the one less traveled by/ And that has made all the difference.” After all the struggles and difficulties of choosing and enduring a chosen path, Frost proves here how everything works itself out in the end. By taking Frost’s life experiences into account, the reader can better understand what a dramatic and fulfilling moment it must be to choose the road less traveled, and all that was learned on the way.

Robert Frost is no doubt a man defined by his personal sufferings. The fact that Frost had to learn how to deal with such tragedies throughout his life helps us to understand the motives behind his poetry. In all likelihood, had Frost not endured such hardships, there is a good chance that his poetry would have been much different. It was only through enduring personal trials that Frost was able to portray nature in its dark, lonely and cold elements. In the end however, Frost’s ability to come to terms with the difficulties of life, give the added reassurance in his poetry that everything will be just fine and, “that has made all the difference.”

Jon McNaughton: Bringing Hate to a Canvas Near You

Unless you have been living under a rock, you are probably well aware of just how polarized American politics has become. It seems that you can't look anywhere these days without seeing some sort of a political spin applied to even the most mundane of daily activities. Everything from Dr. Seuss movies to Christmas trees has become fodder in the never-ending, supercharged, back-and-forth drama that is American politics. The 24/7 media blitz of talk radio and cable news seems to have only exacerbated the problem, as pundits spew hateful rhetoric that depends less on journalistic integrity and more on sensationalized entertainment and doomsday predictions. We have become a society where we prefer to listen to the man/woman yelling at us the loudest through their microphone instead of considering the quiet, steady reflections of level-headed and thorough thinkers.

But this rhetoric isn't limited exclusively to the spoken word. Though political rhetoric does depend greatly on the vocalization of a particular viewpoint, artwork too has an important seat at the table. Whether taking the form of cartoons, posters or campaign ads, the visual image is arguably the most effective and important arrow in the quiver of both partisan and politician. An inspiring painting, a poignant photo, a stirring motif, all have the ability to rouse the soul to higher (or lower) levels of thinking than almost any discourse or poem could hope to accomplish. As the saying goes, a picture really is worth a thousand words!

And sadly, some “artists” have embraced this reality to the point of virtual insanity. Case in point: Jon McNaughton. My Mormon friends are probably more familiar with McNaughton's ilk...er..."art" than are others. As a devout Mormon, his "art" is often a feature in stores like Deseret Book and (until recently) the BYU Bookstore (that is, until BYU became too "liberal" for the uber-sophisticated McNaughton and banned his crap). To put things as simple as I possibly can, Jon McNaughton is a troubled individual. He has taken what I would consider to be a truly remarkable gift (painting) and used it for nothing more than to make a series of cheap, lame, classless, tasteless, mindless, heartless, pointless, idiotic, rude, obscene, hateful and downright pathetic pieces of political propaganda. See for yourself:


Of course, for some, this "art" probably seems like an appropriate summation of "reality." To those of such sentiment I will simply say this: I don't begrudge you your right to your own political views, nor to I deny the fact that Mr. McNaughton has some real talent, but please, for the love of Karl Marx, QUIT BELIEVING EVERYTHING YOU HEAR ON THE DAMN RADIO!!! For once in your life, set your political beliefs aside and consider the following: 1.) Is Jon McNaughton's "art" uplifting in any way, shape or form? 2.) Is Jon McNaughton's "art" the type of stuff that invokes peace and harmony? Or does it breed anger and contention? 3.) Would Jesus, Allah, Buddha, Gandhi, Mother Theresa or any other remarkable person of great character choose to hang Jon McNaughton's "art" in their home? Or would they not even give it the time of day? If you can answer "yes" to any of these three questions, then chances are you probably hate my humble little blog for its "socialist" leanings and have already de-friended me from Facebook for being an evil fascist. That's ok, no hard feelings. Chances are you haven't even read this far into my post anyway, so you won't have the chance to hear me say, "I just won the Mega Millions jackpot and want to buy you a new car!"

The truth of the matter is this: Jon McNaughton is not the problem, but is the SYMPTOM of the problem. McNut...er...McNaughton is the end result of a society that has diluted its political discourse to little more than short, apocalyptic soundbites bent on spreading fear and hate for the "other guy." McNaughton's "art" is essentially a fancy political bumper sticker that tells the world, "My political views are better than yours. Na-na nana boo-boo" Simple-minded men like McNaughton are easy prey for all of the Limbaugh's Hannity's and Beck's of the world. They feel the "call" and begin their "quest" to "save" America from all that is evil in society, which, coincidentally, just happens to be everything found on the other side of the political isle. This is how they can justify creating "scary" pictures of evil, liberal Black presidents burning the Constitution, destroying our freedoms, and receiving the heavenly rebukings of Jesus Christ and our Founding Fathers (while, of course, those of conservative leanings are showered with the gifts of eternal life and always being right). American politics at its best!

We live in a world where religious fervor and political passion are virtually synonymous, so much so that it can be difficult work to separate the partisan politicians, priestly pastors, and philosophical professors from one another. And this convoluted mess has created a labyrinth of confusion that makes almost any sincere political discourse virtually impossible. Any rational or thoughtful inquiry is rendered completely helpless to the impenetrable wall of the prideful partisan mob mentality. This is precisely where Jon McNaughton resides. He is not a critical thinker. He is not a valiant voice crying in the wilderness. He is a bitter, hateful, silly little man. This may sound too harsh or hard but that's ok. I'm sure that Mr. McNaughton is familiar with the verse from the Book of Mormon which states: "the guilty taketh the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center." Besides, most hate-mongers rarely if ever realize that they are hate-mongers. They see themselves as brave voices of change who are misunderstood by the "evil" majority of their day. In addition, they usually rationalize their hate by appealing to religion as a justification for their actions (i.e. the KKK, Civil Rights opponents, etc.) But these weak appeals to religion serve as nothing more than temporary salves for their cankered souls. Hate, no matter how it is camouflaged, will always be hate.

In conclusion, if given the chance to meet him face-to-face, I would simply say to Jon McNaughton's the following: Don't give up on your passion for politics. Don't give up your religion. Don't give up on your amazing artistic talent. But please...PLEASE spare us this pointless nonsense. You have everything to lose and nothing to gain with the "art" you have produced as of late. As a professional artist, I am guessing that you are probably familiar with the RIDICULOUS work of one Andres Serrano. If not, let me introduce you to him. He is the IDIOT "artist" who created the "Piss Christ." The "Piss Christ" is a picture of a crucifix that was submersed in the artist's urine. According to Serrano, the purpose of the "Piss Christ" was to "get people thinking" and to "question what we believe." Shockingly, this pile of nonsense was even sponsored by the National Endowment for the Arts. Not shockingly, the public saw the "Piss Christ" for what it really was: cheap shock value nonsense masquerading as sophisticated "art."

And though you haven't urinated in any of your own art (more like vomit than urine), isn't your political "art" essentially the same thing, Mr. McNaughton? Like Serrano, didn't you also say that the purpose of your "art" was to "get people thinking." Aren't you just wielding your brush as a weapon of mass DISTRACTION that does nothing but piss people off? You may have avoided urinating on your art itself, but you have certainly pissed all over President Obama. Again, I don't begrudge you the right to your political views. You are entitled to believe what you want to believe. But is that really what you want to call the fruits of your amazing talent? If so, I pity you. But, if not, I look forward to your other art...your REAL art. The good stuff that I would be more than happy to display in my home:


“In the fevered state of our country, no good can ever result from any attempt to set one of these fiery zealots to rights, either in fact or principle. They are determined as to the facts they will believe, and the opinions on which they will act. Get by them, therefore, as you would by an angry bull; it is not for a man of sense to dispute the road with such an animal.” -Thomas Jefferson

"GRACE": My Favorite Picture

As a child, I distinctly remember going over to my Grandmother's house, on many occasions, and seeing this picture hanging in her home. Even at a young age I recognized the powerful imagery that was captured in this picture. I recall having feelings of gratitude for personal blessings as I gazed at the figure of an old man, alone, invoking the blessings of heaven for the humble meal he was about to enjoy. I could imagine this blue collared man, perhaps not highly educated or very sophisticated, returning home from a hard day's work to an empty home, but still finding the energy to humbly study the Bible and thank God for the day's blessings.

And now, though a grown man with a family of my own, every time I see this picture I am teleported back to the 1980s, sitting in my Grandmother's house, smelling the sweet aroma coming from the kitchen as she labored to prepare a meal for her family, and above all, feeling grateful for all that I have. Yes, it is safe to say that of all the lessons I have learned from the countless hours spent in my grandmother's home the most important thing I learned is gratitude; simple, heartfelt gratitude, and the importance of always expressing that gratitude. As Doctrine and Covenants 59:21 states:

And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things, and obey not his commandments.

For all of these reasons, this particular picture has become my personal favorite. Officially known as "GRACE", the image was originally captured as a photo back in 1918 by Eric Enstrom. On one particular autumn day, Enstrom had a chance encounter with a bearded, saintly, old salesman named Charles Wilden, who was busily going door to door to sell foot-scrapers in the local Minnesota mining community. But instead of buying foot-scrapers, Enstrom felt impressed to pull out his camera.

"There was something about the old gentleman's face that immediately impressed me. I saw that he had a kind face...there weren't any harsh lines in it," Enstrom said in recalling the 1918 visit of Charles Wilden to his studio.

It happened that Enstrom, at that time, was preparing a portfolio of pictures to take with him to a convention of the Minnesota Photographer's Association. "I wanted to take a picture that would show people that even though they had to do without many things because of the war they still had much to be thankful for," Enstom said.

On a small table, Enstrom placed a family book, some spectacles, a bowl of gruel, a loaf of bread, and a knife on the table. Then he had Wilden pose in an manner of prayer...praying with folded hands to his brow before partaking of a meager meal.

"To bow his head in prayer seemed to be characteristic of the elderly visitor", Enstrom recalled, "for he struck the pose very easily and naturally." As soon as the negative was developed, Enstrom was sure he had something special... a picture that seemed to say, "This man doesn't have much of earthly goods, but he has more than most people because he has a thankful heart." That Enstrom's camera had captured "something special" is an appraisal widely shared.

Needless to say, "GRACE" became an instant best-seller. A countless number of homes, restaurants, churches and hospitals became homes for Enstrom's infamous picture.

Initially, the first "GRACE" pictures were printed either in black and white, or in sepia (brown tone). Later, Enstrom's daughter, Mrs. Rhoda Nyberg, of Coleraine, Minnesota, began hand-painting them in oils, and interest in the picture mounted.

And today, "GRACE" continues to be a best-selling picture/painting. In fact, the State of Minnesota officially made "GRACE" the state picture in 2002. I'd imagine that Charles Wilden probably never thought that his face would be so popular today. But I bet he would be grateful to know that a countless number of people have been touched by the simple yet powerful imagery he helped to bring to life. Yes, it is likely that "GRACE" will continue to touch the hearts of future generations, who sit in the homes of their grandparents on those special Sunday evenings.

The "Legend" of Paul Revere

"Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year."

These opening lines to Henry Longfellow's epic poem "Paul Revere's Ride" have been recited countless times in classrooms across this country. In fact, most Americans only know of Paul Revere thanks to Longfellow’s 1860 poem, which was written almost 100 years after the actual event. Within the historical community, however, Revere's now famous ride has fallen under scrutiny. Was it really as dramatic and eventful as Longfellow's now infamous poem depicts? Or is Revere's "ride" more along the lines of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and an invisible treasure map existing on the back of the Declaration of Independence?

First off, we can all rest assured that Paul Revere never shouted, "the British are coming." To have done so would have destroyed the secrecy that was needed for the mission. British soldiers were afoot everywhere, with the intent of stopping riders like Revere. We can also be certain that Paul Revere was not alone on April 18, 1775. After receiving his initial instructions from Dr. Joseph Warren to warn John Hancock and Samuel Adams of the impending doom, perhaps as many as fifty other riders were caught up in the excitement of the moment and set out to warn the countryside. In addition, Revere was also instructed by Dr. Warren to gather intelligence on the strength of the British army, where others would signal by lamp light the direction the British army was heading (remember "one if by land, two if by sea?"). Here's Paul Revere's initial account of that evening:

I was sent for by Docr. Joseph Warren about 10 oClock that evening, and desired, “to go to Lexington and inform Mr. Samuel Adams, and the Hon. John Hancock Esqr. that there was a number of Soldiers composed of the Light troops and Grenadiers marching to the bottom of the common, where was a number Boats to receive them, and it was supposed, that they were going to Lexington, by the way of Watertown to take them, Mess. Adams and Hancock or to Concord."

And though Revere was not alone on his "ride", and despite the fact that things were not as poetic as Longfellow makes them seem, Revere's mission was far from simple. In fact, Revere faced danger on more than one occasion. Revere evaded a Royal Navy blockade, avoided being shot by British scouts, escaped capture at Charlestown and was eventually caught in Lincoln. Revere's horse was confiscated and he was forced to march back to town at gunpoint. In fact, Revere was never able to warn Samuel Adams or John Hancock that the "British were coming." Fortunately both men were warned by other riders of the impending danger that was approaching, as was the militia, which prepared for the infamous Battle of Lexington and Concord.

To be certain, Revere was an important figure inside Boston's revolutionary underground. He had been entrusted (along with many others) to carry out important assignments that were critical during the early years of Boston's rebellion. In fact, one of the most important things Revere ever did (and he's almost never remembered for it) was to create the all-important engraving of the "Boston Massacre", which Samuel Adams yielded as a powerful propaganda sword that pierced the heart of many fellow Bostonians. And yes, Revere's depiction of the Boston Massacre was every bit as over-dramatic as was Longfellow's infamous Paul Revere poem.

Thanks in large part to his devotion to the "cause of liberty," Revere was a welcomed member of several influential organizations within Boston, most notably the Masonic Lodge in Boston where he rubbed elbows with other key players in America's quest for independence. As a result, Revere's name became synonymous with bravery and devotion. And though his role was really no different than the other nameless, faceless "riders," Revere's legacy has stood out. It's no wonder why Longfellow would seize his story as the one to embellish through poetry. And though his now infamous ride may be entwined with legend and folklore, Paul Revere's involvement in the early years of Boston's revolutionary fervor are both influential and worthy of further study.

America's National Day of (Fighting Over) Prayer

If you've followed my posts over the past couple of years it should come as no surprise that I absolutely, 100% reject the "America is a Christian Nation" nonsense. My reasons for such a stance are many (and I won't dive into them today) but sufficeth me to say that I believe such as stance is actually quite anti-Christian in nature. With that said, I don't want to be misunderstood here. This does not mean that I believe religion played no role in the founding of America. Quite the contrary. I believe it was (and still is) a fundamental component of American republicanism; one that we cannot and should not do without. Religious freedom and diversity is as important to us as are our separation of powers.

And I don't believe I am alone in my beliefs. The role of religion has always been a difficult juggling act throughout American history. The question of when and how religion can be taken too far (or not far enough) in relation to government was a question even our Founding Fathers wrestled with. And in our modern era the story is no different.

Which bring us to May 6, 2010. Today is, by presidential proclamation, the National Day of Prayer. And as can be expected, the typical pro and con voices of "reason" have emerged to support/lament this time-honored practice of fighting over prayer, more specifically prayer being sanctioned by government officials. And though I tend to oppose the "Christian Nation" crowd on a regular basis, I am choosing to stand with them today. The National Day of Prayer is a good thing and the secularists need to back off. Here's why:

First off, let's travel back a ways to the era of our Founders. Yes, many of them were "Theistic Rationalists," "Unitarians," "Deists," "atheists" or any other "ist" you can think of. However, these same heathens LOVED to pray (it's true). Take, for example, the First Continental Congress. You all know the story. It was suggested that the first official act of business should be to begin with a prayer but when deadlocked over who should give that prayer, Samuel Adams (a pious man to say the least) arose and stated that he was "no bigot, and could hear a Prayer from any gentleman of Piety and virtue, who was at the same time a friend to his Country." Shortly thereafter, Jacob Duché, an Anglican minister, was selected to lead the group in prayer.

Fast forward to the war for independence. One of the first General Orders issued by General Washington required soldiers to adhere to a moral code that included prayer:

The General most earnestly requires, and expects, a due observance of those articles of war, established for the Government of the army, which forbid profane cursing, swearing and drunkeness; And in like manner requires and expects, of all Officers, and Soldiers, not engaged on actual duty, a punctual attendance on divine Service, to implore the blessings of heaven upon the means used for our safety and defense.

And then there is the case of John Hanson, president of the United States under the Articles of Confederation, who, in 1782, issued a proclamation calling for a national day of thanksgiving in which the nation was to "give thanks to God" for their good fortune during the war.

And let us not forget, despite the controversy over whether or not he said "So Help Me God", President George Washington stated in his first inaugural address:

No people can be bound to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which conducts the affairs of men more than the people of the United States. Every step by which they have advanced to the character of an independent nation seems to have been distinguished by some token of providential agency.

And then there are the numerous Thanksgiving proclamations made by several early presidents, each of which implored the American populace to give thanks to God through prayer. Bottom line: prayer, in whatever form, is as American as apple pie.

Of course not everyone liked the idea of prayer being sanctioned by government. In 1812, John Adams actually lamented his call for a national day of prayer and thanksgiving:

The National Fast, recommended by me turned me out of office. It was connected with the general assembly of the Presbyterian Church, which I had no concern in. That assembly has alarmed and alienated Quakers, Anabaptists, Mennonists, Moravians, Swedenborgians, Methodists, Catholicks, protestant Episcopalians, Arians, Socinians, Armenians, & & &, Atheists and Deists might be added. A general Suspicion prevailed that the Presbyterian Church was ambitious and aimed at an Establishment of a National Church. I was represented as a Presbyterian and at the head of this political and ecclesiastical Project. The secret whisper ran through them “Let us have Jefferson, Madison, Burr, any body, whether they be Philosophers, Deists, or even Atheists, rather than a Presbyterian President.” This principle is at the bottom of the unpopularity of national Fasts and Thanksgivings. Nothing is more dreaded than the National Government meddling with Religion."

-- John Adams to Benjamin Rush, June 12, 1812

And Thomas Jefferson:

Fasting and prayer are religious exercises; the enjoining them an act of discipline. Every religious society has a right to determine for itself the time for these exercises, and the objects proper for them, according to their own particular tenets; and right can never be safer than in their hands, where the Constitution has deposited it. ...civil powers alone have been given to the President of the United States and no authority to direct the religious exercises of his constituents.

~Thomas Jefferson to Samuel Miller, January 23, 1808.

And James Madison:

There has been another deviation from the strict principle in the Executive Proclamations of fasts & festivals, so far, at least, as they have spoken the language of injunction, or have lost sight of the equality of all religious sects in the eye of the Constitution. Whilst I was honored with the Executive Trust I found it necessary on more than one occasion to follow the example of predecessors. But I was always careful to make the Proclamations absolutely indiscriminate, and merely recommendatory; or rather mere designations of a day, on which all who thought proper might unite in consecrating it to religious purposes, according to their own faith & forms. In this sense, I presume you reserve to the Govt. a right to appoint particular days for religious worship throughout the State, without any penal sanction enforcing the worship.

~James Madison to Edward Livingston, July 10, 1822.

And while most modern presidents have followed suit by declaring national days of prayer (Harry Truman even signed a bill requiring presidents to do just that), some presidents sided with Jefferson. Presidents Ulysses S. Grant and Theodore Roosevelt spoke up for what Roosevelt called "absolutely nonsectarian public schools." Roosevelt added that it is "not our business to have the Protestant Bible or the Catholic Vulgate or the Talmud read in schools."

Yes, truly the debate over prayer has a long and tedious history. As Diana Butler, author of the controversial book, A People's History of Christianity points out:

When it comes to prayer, Americans love to fight -- and our prayers have driven us apart. Arguing over prayer is an American tradition.

In the 1600s, Puritans rejected the formalized prayer of the Anglican Book of Common Prayer and founded their own churches as a way of protesting state-supported prayer. For their trouble, the Anglicans put them in jail. When they got out, they left England and settled in the New World. But the Anglicans were already there with their own colonies and outlawed Puritan prayers again. So the Puritans outlawed Anglican prayer in their own colonies. Quakers, disgusted with the Puritan-Anglican quarrel, rejected verbal prayers altogether, choosing to pray silently instead.

In the 1740s, during the Great Awakening, the new evangelical preachers practiced extemporaneous prayer. They rejected all written prayers in favor of being "moved by the Spirit" and making up public prayers on the spot. Many in traditional churches -- Presbyterians, Anglicans, Lutherans, and Congregationalists -- found extemporaneous prayer to be theologically shallow and "unlearned" and forbade its exercise in their churches. These groups didn't imprison each other over prayer. Instead, they consigned each other to hell and set up rival denominations to insure their own salvation. American churches split over prayer, leaving some to free-form prayer and others to written and ritualized prayers.

After the Revolutionary War, a puzzling question arose: Whose prayer would undergird the new nation? How might prayer be practiced in the commons? What words should bless state functions?

The political leaders (perhaps recognizing that prayer was above their pay grade) came up with a unique and practical answer: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof..." In other words, "We won't touch that prayer-thing with a twenty-foot pole. You are on your own, people."

Of course, the Establishment and Free Exercise clauses of the Constitution didn't solve anything. Congress, despite trying to avoid the issue, had chaplains -- most typically of the formal type -- who prayed for their work. And Americans -- even in the early period when most of them were Protestants -- kept arguing over whose prayer was theologically accurate and most spiritually effective. Entire denominations were formed on the basis of devotional style. And as Americans argued and denominations split over prayer, religious leaders and politicians continued to proclaim days of prayer for national unity.

And though it's likely that the debate over prayer's role in the halls of government is sure to remain for as long as the stars and stripes continue to fly, I believe it is important for us all to recognize one important fact: whether you favor prayer being intertwined with government or not we must acknowledge its role in American history. Americans are, for the most part, a prayer-loving people. I am reminded of the very first post ever done at my other blog (American Creation) entitled, "Did Washington Pray at Valley Forge?" In that post, I pointed out that the story of Washington kneeling in prayer (and made famous by Arnold Frieberg's now infamous painting) is surely a farce. Despite its obvious mythology, fellow blogger Brian Tubbs made an excellent point. He stated, in this blog's first ever comment:

Whether GW knelt in prayer at Valley Forge as depicted by the paintings is like asking whether he stood in the boat when he crossed the Delaware. GW probably didn't kneel in the snow at Valley Forge. But I'm sure he prayed at Valley Forge. That GW prayed in the exact manner depicted in the famous painting may be called into question. That he was a man of prayer cannot be challenged.

And so it is with prayer on a national level. Perhaps we are not a Christian Nation and that a separation of church and state does keep the men of the cloth from dictating policy. This truth, however, does not mean that we need to throw the baby out with the bath water. We have been, and probably always will be, a nation of praying people.

And maybe both the pro and anti-prayer advocates can appeal to Jesus for a resolution on this matter:

"Thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men...

"But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret." ~ Matt. 6:5-6

Did George Washington Pray at Valley Forge?

Nearly every American has seen this painting. In fact, it has become one of the best selling pieces of art in recent years. Thousands of homes, churches, office buildings, etc. have adorned their walls with this extremely powerful portrayal of America's first president/general kneeling in humble prayer. As is common with the legacy of our Founding Fathers, Americans today gain a sense of pride, reverence, and even patriotism when witnessing poignant recreations such as the one captured in this painting.
But how accurate is it? Did George Washington really pray at Valley Forge?

Officially known as "The Prayer at Valley Forge", artist Arnold Friberg chose to capture what he called, "The spirit of 1776" by painting this picture for the American bicentennial festivities of 1976. Since then, Friberg's painting has become one of the top selling pieces of American art and has inspired a countless number of "copycat" artists, who have capitalized on creating similar pieces of art. The painting has also become a source of controversy between Christian conservatives and secularists, who seem to be caught up in a constant battle over America's founding legacy.

So what are the facts surrounding the "Prayer at Valley Forge?"

The original story of George Washington kneeling in prayer comes from a source that is questionable to say the least. The story allegedly originated from a young man named Isaac Potts, who is the supposed eyewitness to this event. It is said that Potts was riding along one day when he came across General Washington, hidden in the woods and caught up in deep prayer. Potts, who was originally against the war, stated that he experienced a change of heart upon seeing the General in prayer. The story then went unreported for roughly 40 years until Potts allegedly revealed his experience to his pastor, Reverend Nathaniel Snowden. Reverend Snowden then purportedly copied what Potts had told him in his journal, in the hopes that the story would be protected for posterity. Here is an excerpt from Snowden's journal:

I tied my horse to a sapling and went quietly into the woods and to my astonishment I saw the great George Washington on his knees alone, with his sword on one side and his cocked hat on the other. He was at Prayer to the God of the Armies, beseeching to interpose with his Divine aid, as it was ye Crisis, and the cause of the country, of humanity and of the world.

Such a prayer I never heard from the lips of man. I left him alone praying. I went home and told my wife. I saw a sight and heard today what I never saw or heard before, and just related to her what I had seen and heard and observed. We never thought a man c’d be a soldier and a Christian, but if there is one in the world, it is Washington. She also was astonished. We thought it was the cause of God, and America could prevail.

The powerful imagery of General Washington beseeching God to bless and protect his army is moving to say the least. The problem with the story, however, is that there is little to no proof of its veracity. First off, it is highly unlikely that Reverend Snowden ever knew or associated with Isaac Potts. Family history records have proven that the Potts family did not move to the Valley Forge area until 1800 (Washington was dead by then). Also, it is worth noting that Reverend Snowden's journal account records the name of Potts's wife to be Sarah, when in fact her name was Martha. In addition, Snowden's journal states that he heard the story from a man named "John," not Isaac Potts. Simply put, Reverend Snowden's journal is too unreliable to support the Valley Forge story.

Along with the questionable journal entries, it is worth noting that Isaac Potts never had a change of heart when it came to the war. In addition, several critics of Snowden claimed that the Reverend recanted his story when presented with the evidence.

So why would Snowden lie?

It is a known fact that a number of religious leaders from several different churches attempted to "claim" George Washington as their own. After all, Washington was a living legend in his time. To have the religious endorsement of America's first general and first president would be extremely impressive in the eyes of the common citizenry. As a result, scores of religious leaders of the 18th century have distorted the true nature of Washington's faith.

While it is true that Washington was known for attending church with some regularity, it is important to recognize the fact that Washington was far from being an orthodox believer. First off, though Washington attended several religious services over the course of his life, he refused to be confirmed a member of any one denomination. Washington strongly opposed an orthodox allegiance in religious affairs (as he did in political affairs as well). It is also an established fact that Washington refused to take communion of any kind when attending church services. In fact, a number of religious leaders expressed disappointment at the fact that Washington would not participate in communion. During communion, it was common of Washington to simply walk out of church in the middle of the ceremony. Even Washington's ecclesiastical leader while in Philadelphia, the Reverend William White, recognized that Washington regularly refused communion:

In regard to the subject of your inquiry, truth requires me to say, that General Washington never received communion, in the churches of which I am a parochial minister.

In addition to Reverend William White, Dr. James Abercrombie also took note of Washington's habit of avoiding communion:

O]n Sacrament Sundays, Gen'l Washington, immediately after the Desk and Pulpit services, went out with the greater part of the congregation, always leaving Mrs. Washington with the communicants, she invariably being one, I considered it my duty, in a sermon on Public Worship, to sate the unhappy tendency of example, particularly of those in elevated stations, who invariably turned their backs upon the celebration of the Lord's Supper. I acknowledge the remark was intended for the President, and, as such, he received it. A few days after, in conversation with, I believe, a Senator of the U. S., he told me he had dined the day before with the President, who, in the course of conversation at the table, said, that on the preceding Sunday, he had received a very just reproof from the public, for always leaving the church before the administration of the Sacrament; that he honored the preacher for his integrity and candour; that he had never considered the influence of his example; that he would never again give cause for the repetition of the reproof; and that, as he had never become a communicant, were he to become one then, it would be imputed to an ostentatious display of religious zeal arising altogether from his elevated station. Accordingly, he afterwards never came on the morning of Sacrament Sundays, tho', at other times, constant attending in the morning...

...That Washington was a professing Christian is evident from his regular attendance in our church; but, Sir, I cannot consider any man as a real Christian who uniformly disregards an ordinance so solemnly enjoined by the divine Author of our holy religion.

The father of our country, whenever in this city, as well as during the Revolutionary Was as during his presidency, attended divine service in Christ Church of this city...His behavior was always serious and attentive; but as your letter seems to intend an inquiry on the point of kneeling during the service, I owe it to truth to declare, that I never saw him in the said attitude.

White continued his appraisal of Washington's faith by stating:

I do not believe that any degree of recollection would bring to my mind any fact which would prove General Washington to have been a believer in the Christian revelation; further than as may be hoped from his constant attendance on Christian worship, in connection with the natural reserve of his character.

Despite these facts, the "Prayer of Valley Forge" legend has received incredible publicity and attention over the years. In 1866, artist John McRae was commissioned by the United States to create an engraving of this event.

Later, the Valley Forge Park Commission was given a grant to create a statue of McRae's engraving, which was to be placed at the entrance to Valley Forge Park. The Park authorities refused, stating that there was ample evidence to suggest that the Washington prayer story was a hoax. Despite the decision of park authorities, tours were conducted until roughly 1930, which took travelers to various locations where Washington had allegedly knelt in prayer.

And even though the story behind the painting is an utter fraud, it is important to recognize how powerful the symbol of America's first Commander-in-Chief kneeling in prayer has become for modern Americans. Despite all of the damning evidence that refutes the validity of the "Prayer at Valley Forge," it is likely that this painting will continue to grace the walls of homes, schools, churches, etc. for years to come. Besides, isn't the myth sometimes more appealing than the truth?