My friend spoke at a retreat recently, teaching about
the use of icons in prayer. She explained that icons are painted with skewed perspective – limbs jut off at
odd angels and the symmetry typically associated with beauty is often
missing. “The first thing we do when we see an icon is judge
it,” she said.
//
The quickest and simplest way to create distance between
ourselves and that which discomforts us is to cast judgment.
//
When I returned to complete my chaplaincy residency, just a
few short weeks after my oldest child was born, a new crop of summer students
had joined our small rotation. Among
them was a heavy-set woman with wild, frizzy hair and frumpy clothes. She talked loudly and out of turn, taking up
too much space both physically and verbally and worse yet, she seemed utterly
and completely unrepentant about it.
Oh, she made me bristle and cringe.
I was quieter because of her, hoping my own silence inspire her to follow suit. I was more restrained
in an effort to somehow make up for her exuberance.
I judged her quickly and harshly for all of the traits I found so disturbing and my judgment built a silent and sturdy wall between us.
In the program I was in, this kind of strong reaction was fodder for reflection. So I thought
about my reaction and talked about it with my supervisor. Eventually I came to see that this woman
seemed to somehow be a flesh and blood embodiment of my
shadow-self. She embodied the traits I feared
most and in judging her I was judging the most unacceptable parts of
myself.
If I dared to welcome, accept and even love her, how would I
keep myself in check? If it was ok for
her to be simply as she was, then maybe the same was true for me. Wouldn’t that just be giving myself permission to be loud,
large, and unkempt?
I wasn’t ready to let that happen, though, so I judged her
and parts of myself with her.
//
Icons are not pleasing because they often appear to be
somehow broken. To accept the image they
bear may require the acceptance of our own broken image. Perhaps icons disturb us in the same way our own deep brokenness does. In rejecting icons and the images they
bear, maybe we’re also rejecting the most broken and fragile parts of ourselves.
In this way, icons are similar to the sacred stories of Holy Week – stories filled with human sin, awash with that which we’d rather not see, hear, or touch.
Everywhere we look in this week’s gospel readings, humans are found behaving badly. They’re out of focus, skewed, and jutting off at odd angles in relation to the One
who walks quietly among them. Maybe this is why it’s so tempting for the reader to cast judgment or, better yet, look away.
//
“Icons are quiet paintings,” my friend continues, “They’re
not art, they are not meant to be beautiful.
In their quietness, they invite us in.”
Maybe this is how the stories of Holy Week are too.
//
May we lean in close this week,
my friends.
May we lift our faces, our
eyes, our hearts to that which disturbs us most deeply.
Let us withhold our judgment on the
brokenness we see lest we also judge ourselves.
Give us steady eyes, dear God, as we gaze at your image distilled across
the shattered surface of humanity. Grant
us grace that we might learn to see and be seen through eyes of love.
Nice post. Recently I have started exploring when I have knee jerk reactions…well any negative reactions towards someone else. I think no matter what, you can always find something about yourself there. Thanks for sharing.
Thanks Kelly. I wasn't even sure if this one made sense, but it was something I wanted to write about! I often find God through the back doors of my own anger, fear and judgment, that's grace for ya!
I saw someone while I was out shopping yesterday that repulsed me. My first thought was poor person, I hope I never end up like her. But then I felt the need to pray for her. I am sure there are things in her life that are out of balance, but I understood that I struggle with some of those same things. Evelyn
So true, Mom, the way that empathy and compassion can move us toward love and acceptance of ourselves and others. Thanks for commenting 🙂
Lovely, Kelly. And so painfully true – those reactive moments of discomfort and judgment are almost always in response to our shadow selves, I think. And that is a painful truth to recognize. Thanks for weaving the story of icons through out this reflection – I love the one at the top!
Thanks, Diana. Icons are a new topic for me, but like so many things, they connect to so much that I already knew/know and open me again to the truth in new and different ways.