October 25, 2004
naked as we came
Anselm Kiefer, Zim Zum, 1990
acrylic, emulsion, crayon, shellac, ashes, and canvas on lead, 380.3 x 560.1 cm (149 3/4 x 220 1/2 in.)
i stood beside my dad keith in the national gallery looking at this
piece in all it's immensity while a woman discussed it with a group
nearby. i only remember one question she raised about it: is it the
end of the world or the beginning of the world? it's amazing that one
image can display both hints of destruction and creation at the same
time. i think it's both.
yesterday i had to read job's story to my group of middle schoolers at
church. his words to God, after losing everything of earthly value to
him, are embedding themselves in my mind. in his great grief job cries
out:
"naked i came from my mother's womb, and naked i will depart. the LORD
gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be
praised."
this line keeps returning to me: naked i came...
for a while i couldn't figure out what it was that was drawing me to
it. all the times i read job's story before, i never understood how he
could react so nobly in the face of such loss. i identified more with
his wife who told him to curse God.
but reflecting on these words the last couple of days, i realized job
isn't so foreign and inhuman to me now as he was before. there is
something about his state before God that i actually crave. it's
definitely not the grief, but it's the nakedness. the emptiness before
God. the extreme barrenness.
a dear friend of my family once held her fist clenched tight before
me, and then very slowly opened them revealing her empty palms. she was
telling me how she learned to loosen her grip on her life, and
open her hands vulnerably to God. the image stuck, and i prayed for
God to unclench my fist, because i still couldn't.
another friend once mentioned falling into God. that image stuck too.
i saw in my mind the terror of falling fast through thin air, but with
the realization that i was falling into such safeness. there is freedom in losing control.
psalm 31 says: "my times are in your hands." whether good or bad, i
can at least rest knowing who's hands are holding my days.
naked and empty before God, job could only praise him. that is what
draws me to job, that is what i long for with God. he wasn't in a
place of comfort, but he was alone and real before God praising him.
so i think about kiefer's art, and i find in it the same spirit that is in job.
they are both at a point between destruction and creation, and in that place there is no control but God's.
i want the safeness of losing control to God. i pray for death as well
as brand new life.
today i ask for the freedom of nakedness.
Posted by red clay at October 25, 2004 11:09 AM | TrackBackThe book of Job is one of my favorites in the Bible and I don't want to ignore those parts of your posting.
However I was transfixed by the artwork and see it differently from the guide.
I see a stone wall with a hole in it. What barrier does the wall provide? If we peer through the hole what can we see on the other side? Does this division cause us to decide on which side we will exist?
Cool picture.
Take Care
Michael
I feel like I know just what you're talking about. Nakedness before God...I've been craving that too.
Posted by: Deb at October 25, 2004 02:18 PMhey kel, i had a lot of catching up to do...i haven't read your blog in awhile. i dont know when i stopped checking it everyday, but you know how things happen. thanks for all the pictures you painted with your words. i could see myself in your busy house with all your family around. im sure my imagination sees everyone much differently than they are now...i bet that would be funny to you if you could see my imagination of everyone, just because my pictures would be so wrong. but anyways, so much has been happening, i will just have to write an email or something. but i just wanted to say thanks for always sharing your heart so honestly. it fills me will so many different emotions...comfort because i know im not alone, jealousy because i want your perspective, hope because there has to be hope, and a lot more. i love ya kel. i hope you really know that. ill talk to you soon. -erin
Posted by: Erin Weaver at October 25, 2004 11:39 PMWhat a great post to start my day. I don't know if you intended on it, but thanks for being so encouraging!
Posted by: Shannon at October 26, 2004 10:26 AMmichael. you should see it real life. it feels like you are standing inside of it. i think you're right about the wall...the part that looks like the end/creation is in the bottom center. you're wall, kind of looks like darkness either closing up, or being swallowed up by the center of the piece. there are so many ways to see this. unfortunately, i think kiefer would see it more through hopeless eyes--his work is all centered on the tragedy of the holocaust.
deb. it's very good to hear you say that.
erin. wonderful to hear from you. if you want your visual of the family to be clear, you should look through michelle's pictures of our last reunion: gypsy.chattablogs.com, she's good at recording everything through photos. we do have to catch up so i'll write you very soon. and, thanks.
shannon. thanks, and i'm glad it was encouraging. i think i did intend it.
Posted by: kelly at October 26, 2004 12:17 PMi thought i left a comment earlier - but it looks like it never posted. anyway - i wanted to say that i re-read this post today during my tenth grade class. my kids were all quietly working on the end unit exam for Lord of The Flies, and these words were like honey. thank you.
Posted by: amy at October 26, 2004 06:38 PMamy. i'm glad. thanks for your words on surrender.
...prayers for your students today, and a few in particular.
Thanks for stopping by my place Kelly and for your thoughts.
Reading this article of yours, I like Deb, love this idea of being naked before God but what you say about the freedom of it has been really pondering this facet of freedom. Also the safeness of losing control to God.
I think I need to journal more on these thoughts you have given.