Marginal Christianity

Entry into the City John August Swanson The gathering clouds, the many soldiers, the kinetic energy of the painting, create a sense of foreboding, that something is about to happen to Jesus. Likely not good. The following reflection seems apropos for this Good Friday. A God Torn to Pieces: Good Friday, Nietzsche, and Sacrifice By Adam Ericksen 4 -16-2014 Friedrich Nietzsche is a favorite whipping boy among Christians. It’s difficult to blame my fellow Christians for this. After all, Nietzsche is known for many provocative anti-Christian statements, but his most provocative statement might be that “God is dead.” And yet, in his latest book A God Torn to Pieces: The Nietzsche Case , philosopher Guiseppe Fornari makes a claim that is just as provocative: “In the end [Nietzsche] was much closer to Christ than many who would claim to be Christians.” Wait …Nietzsche was closer to Christ than many Christians? How could that be? Niet...

The Entry into the Holy City John August Swanson For this Maundy Thursday I offer the following fine reflection from Frederick Schmidt. Swanson's painting has about it an air of mystery which ties in nicely with Schmidt's thoughts. The Thursday of Holy Mysteries April 13, 2017 by Frederick Schmidt 1 Comment Some weeks ago I began yet another painting project at home, the third room so far. I have a piece of advice to share with you: Never say “never.” I’ve said, “Never,” to painting two or three times, to no effect. Anyway, I find painting exceedingly boring, so I usually troll through old movies that are dialogue heavy. They are distracting and I can follow them, without actually watching the TV screen. One of my more recent weekend choices was “Paper Chase.” It’s the story of a new law student named Hart and his struggle to clear the hurdles associated with what is called 1L and, in particular, his struggles with the imperious Professor Ki...

Entry into the City, John August Swanson, 1990. Wednesday of Holy Week 2017             The central figure of Swanson’s painting is, of course Jesus riding into town on a donkey.  But . . . “Have you heard the legend of the Christian donkeys? This is the story that has been told about the little donkey who was Jesus’ mount on Palm Sunday. “It is said that a donkey carried Mary to Bethlehem and is also referred to as a Nativity Donkey.   The Nubian burro has a cross on its back because it is believed that these donkeys carried Jesus to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. “To ride on a donkey signified coming in peace, this symbolic event served to reinforce what Jesus had told the people of Israel: “Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem: behold, thy King cometh unto thee: he [is] just, and having salvation; lowly, and riding upon a donkey, and upon a colt the foal of a d...

          Why is there so little passion/enthusiasm in the church today? This was a question asked on FB today. I responded, “Our God is too distant, our Christ is too small, and the Holy Spirit is elsewhere. Our churches do not know who or what they are or what they are to do in the world. Otherwise everything is just peachy.” I was not being flip. That is what I really believe.           Shortly after another post came up on my feed from Mike Frost about the greatest Easter painting ever. He proposes The Disciples Peter and John Running to the Sepulchre on the Morning of the Resurrection or simply The Disciples (1898). Its artist is little known Swiss, Eug ѐ ne Burnand and the painting is hung in an old railway station in Paris on the left bank of the Seine.                    John and Peter are rushing to the tomb having ju...

Is this the greatest Easter painting of all time? by  Mike Frost  | Apr 12, 2017 |  Homepage  |  1 comment It has the imposing title,  The Disciples Peter and John Running to the Sepulchre on the Morning of the Resurrection. More often than not it’s just referred to by the shortened form,  The Disciples  or  Les Disciples. You won’t find it in the Louvre or the Met or the National Gallery. It hangs tucked away in an old railway station in Paris, now the Musée d’Orsay, on the left bank of the Seine. It was painted in 1898 by a relatively little known Swiss artist named Eugène Burnand. He was something of an old-fashioned realist at a time when all the cool kids were embracing modernism.  The Disciples  didn’t make a splash when it was first hung. Burnand’s style was already considered passé by the 1890s. But those who take the time to find it in the d’Orsay come away saying that viewing the canvas is akin t...

Entry into the City, John August Swanson, 1990. Tuesday of Holy Week 2017 Luke 18:15-17 “People were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them; and when the disciples saw it, they sternly ordered them not to do it. But Jesus called for them and said, ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of God belongs. Truly I tell you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.’”           Swanson’s painting captures this truth with the gaggle of children he has positioned nearest to Jesus. Boys and girls waving their palms are conspicuous by the position the artist gives them. It is they, perhaps, among all the people gathered to this moment, who give Jesus the truest and purest welcome to Jerusalem. “Truly I tell you,” Jesus says, “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will never enter it.” ...

Entry into the City, John August Swanson, 1990. Monday of Holy Week 2017 John August Swanson’s wonderful painting “Entry into the City” captures in its large scope, multitude of images and characters, and in particular the setting sun amidst the dark and roiling clouds, much of the pathos of the gospel accounts of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem and the beginning of the last week of his life on earth, the week we call Holy Week. Swanson’s painting will form the focus of this year’s Holy Week reflections. In their book  The Last Week   (2006),   Marcus Borg and Dom Crossan think it is probable that there were  two processions   into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday – one of the regnant Roman power and the other of Jesus enacting his upside-down kingdom.   Whether or not this happened on the same day so as to provide such a poignant point-counterpoint event may not be as probable as Borg and Crossan suppose. But both processions did occur and it is fi...