Dear Bezalel,
May I write to you from many millennia hence?
I am in awe as I think of your life:
You were a man of exiled Israel, enslaved in Egypt
Miraculously rescued in the Exodus through the Red Sea
Sojourner in the wilderness with Moses and all your people.
It is said that you were filled with the Spirit,
The very first person of whom this was written.
And that God himself, the great Creator and Redeemer
Called and gifted you as a master artist and craftsman and designer
To create a tabernacle with beauty and excellence in the desert.
So along with Oholiab and your company of skilled women and men,
You hammered, chiseled, carved, engraved, and set in patterns
These things: gold, silver, bronze, wood, and sparkling precious stones
You also spun, wove, dyed and embroidered cloth for
The walls coverings and liturgical linens and priestly ephods.
And so arose the tabernacle, that moveable sacred space
For the Glory of God to dwell in the midst of his people
As you all wandered your way to the Promised Land
For forty years, gathering manna to eat,
Following a pillar of cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night.
Your very own hands built the Ark of the Covenant
Reliquary for all the Holy Things in the Most Holy Place.
And the angelic Mercy Seat to be sprinkled with the blood of sacrifice.
What was it like, Brother Bezalel, to bring into existence
The very first earthly dwelling for the Most High God?
This is why I am in awe all these thousands of years later.
Your work was an act of worship, an example of devotion
Yet now you and your beautiful and sacred holy tent are long gone.
So are the Jerusalem temples that came later.
Yet the Glory of God abides! Where?
The Glory dwells not in buildings made of human hands.
For God himself came down to earth in human form, Incarnate.
Tabernacled for a time in Mary’s womb,
This Jesus, too, sojourned in a desert wilderness
But he, the Bread of Life, had no manna to eat.
Walking among us, face to face, hand to hand, heart to heart
The Divine Son taught and healed and prayed.
And when he had offered himself as the holy sacrifice
And was resurrected from the dead, he ascended to Heaven
To build a house for us, a beautiful glorious home.
And then he sent the Holy Spirit to fill all of us
So that we, as his people, might be
The very tabernacle of God’s holy presence on earth.
Did you dream of this, dear Bezalel?
Could you even imagine what your tabernacle foretold?
And so in grateful remembrance of you, I think of how
I too can create spiritual space for people to meet with God
In the work of my hands, in the labors of my heart and mind
And like you, may I be freshly filled with the Spirit of God
And know the Glory of his presence in this place.
~*~*~
I write an Advent poem each year, missing only one year in the last 12 or so. Each year, I muse on what I will write, and each year, it comes to me on its own.
This morning, I was laying in bed reading a fascinating and inspiring book on my phone's Kindle app for one of my seminary classes. Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster explores several faith traditions in Christianity: Contemplative, Holiness, Charismatic, Social Justice, Evangelical, and Incarnational. For each one, he sketches a Biblical character, a historical example, and a more contemporary person who exemplifies that theme. I am in the final section, which includes the stories of Susannah Wesley (Mother of Methodism), Dag Hammarskjöld (Swedish diplomat who was head of UN), and Bezalel. I sighed with satisfaction when I saw his name as one who brought God's presence into daily life through tangible means. Though obscure, he's always been one of my favorite Old Testament heroes, appearing in Exodus 31-37 as... an artist! Here are excerpts from the Scripture:
Then the Lord said to Moses, “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills— to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts. Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you: the tent of meeting, the ark of the covenant law with the atonement cover on it, and all the other furnishings of the tent— the table and its articles, the pure gold lampstand and all its accessories, the altar of incense, the altar of burnt offering and all its utensils, the basin with its stand— and also the woven garments, both the sacred garments for Aaron the priest and the garments for his sons when they serve as priests, and the anointing oil and fragrant incense for the Holy Place. They are to make them just as I commanded you.” Exodus 31:1-11
He has filled them with skill to do all kinds of work as engravers, designers, embroiderers in blue, purple and scarlet yarn and fine linen, and weavers—all of them skilled workers and designers. Exodus 35:35I got interrupted while reading Streams of Living Water. Then, inspired by what I'd read of Bezalel there so far, I wrote the poem. Later I went back to finish the chapter in the book, since I have a paper to write on it this weekend. I was quite amused to see that Foster had also picked up on the idea of Jesus "tabernacling" in Mary's womb, as well as God's presence now dwelling in his people through the Holy Spirit. Sweet affirmation of my poetic thoughts.
I wrote the last stanza trying to bring it even further forward to the now. Yes, God's presence is available to each of us, but I wanted to acknowledge the role that creativity (especially the arts) still plays in the Christian faith tradition. I am not a professional "maker" but I dabble in many forms. I painted when I was in high school and college, and have tried to pick that up a little bit in my fifties. For visual arts, I mostly do calligraphy & lettering, photography, word burning/dyeing, and tie dye. I am also a poet, but I guess you know that already since you just read one of my poems. Most of my artistic/poetic work also reflects my faith, since I do really want to, as I said, "create spiritual space for people to meet with God."
Another facet of the Incarnational stream of Christianity is the use of liturgy and the arts. Last December I visited an Episcopal congregation, Church of the Incarnation, with a friend. We both stayed, and both now serve at the prayer altar and as Scripture lectionary readers. I love the liturgy. I love the small lakeside chapel in the woods with the Jesus icons on the wall. This past summer, I even attempted to make a very small icon painting of my own.
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| Icon from Stations of the Cross series -artist unknown- St. Augustine Chapel (Church of the Incarnation) Canterbury Retreat Center |
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| "Icon: Incarnation" by Virginia Knowles, 2019 Water color creams |
Speaking of Sacred Space, I am also a cathedral lover. You can find many cathedral photo posts on this blog (mostly from Paris and Geneva) but these two actually have liturgical poems that I wrote.
- God of Joy, I See Thee (photo on left, Washington National Cathedral in D.C.)
- Sainte-Chapelle, Nouvel Esprit (photo on right, Sainte-Chapelle in Paris)
If you'd like to read my other Advent poems, you'll find them in the links below.
- We Can Rise - 2018
- God of Joy, I See Thee - 2017
- Bring Me - 2015Pure Devotion - 2014
- Peace and Joy - 2013
- The Jesus Poem - 2012
- Christmas in Malawi, Christmas in America - 2011
- Invitation to Stillness - 2010
- Grace Will Lead Me Home - 2009
- The Story Did Not Start with a Stable and a Star - 2008
- Candlewick - 2008
- Shepherd's Tale - 2008
- Corpus Christi - 2007
- Rhapsody in M - 2006
- Psalm to Sweet Jesus
- Paradox
If you would like to see some of my other liturgical art, you'll find it here:
Here's a painting I did in college, depicting how the sacrifice of Jesus opened the way into the Most Holy Place.
Did you know that when Jesus died on the cross, the heavy curtain in the temple (which separated the worshipers from the direct presence of God in the Most Holy Place) tore from top to bottom. So we can enter in, receiving his abundant mercy and grace!
And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. Matthew 27:50-52
Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:19-25
And finally, here are links to some of my seminary posts from my Watch the Shepherd blog.
(Note: The colored woodcut at the top of this post is listed as "Bezalel and Oholiab Making the Ark of the Covenant" from the Nuremberg Bible Biblia Sacra Germanaica.)
- Lectio Divina
- Inductive Bible Study on Discipleship in Matthew 8-9
- Revelations of Divine Love by Julian of Norwich (Primary Source Analysis)
(Note: The colored woodcut at the top of this post is listed as "Bezalel and Oholiab Making the Ark of the Covenant" from the Nuremberg Bible Biblia Sacra Germanaica.)
