Self-Portrait

I am not by any stretch of the imagination a student of art. I have, however, been to my share of art museums. Amid the wide variety of artistic works that are typically displayed in a museum, you will virtually always find at least a handful that are self-portraits. Self-portraits. An artist’s artistic representation of himself or herself. Whatever medium that self-portrait might be in—a painting, a line drawing, a sculpture, or even a photograph—an artist’s self-portrait always seeks to convey more than just appearance. In a self-portrait an artists seeks to express how he sees himself as a person or how she views herself as an artist. A self-portrait does much more than just represent physical features. A self-portrait communicates the artist’s self-image… things like passions, character, relationships, world view, sense of humor, interests.

I was reading about world events this week in the Christian Science Monitor. One article had a sidebar with this headline: Saddam in a sleeveless sweater. It caught my attention. It went on to describe the many ways that Saddam Hussein is represented in Baghdad. They are all self-portraits, of course, intended—just like an artist’s self-portrait—to convey much more than just physical appearance. These are just some of the self-portraits the reporter noted: Saddam Hussein waving at cheering crowds, praying, looking youthful in black-and-white, looking mature in color, talking on the phone and taking notes, helping farmers in the field, drinking tea, firing a rifle into the air with one hand, chairing a meeting, patting a woman on the head, wearing aviator sunglasses, riding a horse, and watching a children’s performance.

The same principles, of course, are at work here in our own country, especially during this season of TV political ads. Susan Collins sitting at her desk, presumably in the Senate office building; Mike Michaud with workers punching the time-clock at the mill; John Baldacci with coat and tie; John Baldacci with open necked shirt; Jonathon Carter dramatically, but simply, back-lit with no background props at all. Self-portraits, deliberately presented to convey more than physical appearance… Self-portraits intended to communicate personality, character, beliefs, ideals, priorities…

How would you paint your self-portrait? Would you be recognizable as a Christian? Or, assuming that your identity as a Christian is a given, how would you present your self-portrait as a Christian? What would you seek to convey beyond your physical appearance? What would your Christian self-portrait communicate about your character, your beliefs, your faith?

I can’t help but digress for just a minute. Bishops always have official portraits done. They are self-portraits, of course, in the sense that they record much more than just a Bishop’s physical appearance. Is the bishop seated in the bishop’s official chair at the Cathedral or standing like a shepherd holding the bishop’s staff? What is the backdrop? Is he holding a prayer book or perhaps chrism? Is she wearing cope and miter or rochet and chimere or a simple cassock? A bishop’s self-portrait will tell you much about how he or she views the ministry of a bishop.

But back to us. How would you, as an individual, paint your self-portrait as a Christian? Or how would we, as a congregation, paint our self-portrait as the Body of Christ? You may remember that a year or so ago, we were asked by the diocese to provide a picture of our church. We sent in a picture—not of just the church building—but of us, the people of St. Patrick’s standing in front of a building… A building which is not the church, but a place where this church (us!) gathers for worship and fellowship. I like to think our self-portrait was part of what motivated the diocese this year to ask for pictures of each congregation in action. All of these pictures were up at diocesan convention this past few days and it was especially fun to look at the self-portraits taken from the lives of different congregations. Self-portraits that spoke volumes about a particular congregation’s personality, its character, its priorities as a community. I hope you’ll tell me later what pictures you would have sent to provide this sort of portrait of St. Patrick’s.

Or maybe you would have liked to paint a picture (whether or not you actually have any artistic talent.) Photographs can convey much, and they can convey much beyond just physical appearances. But photographs are limited; they are limited to things that already are and events that have already happened. Maybe you wish your self-portrait of St. Patrick’s would somehow include hidden qualities or future hopes. A painting can make the hidden visible or the future real. How would you paint St. Patrick’s self-portrait?

In the portion of Paul’s First Letter to the Thessalonians that we heard this morning, Paul paints a self-portrait of his ministry. It is an interesting picture. "You yourselves know, brothers and sisters, that our coming to you was not in van, but though we had already suffered and been shamefully mistreated at Philippi, as you know, we had courage in our God to declare to you the gospel of God in spite of great opposition." What a mixture of emotions. It would take a truly inspired painter, I think, to capture and communicate Paul’s personal characteristics of faithful dedication and courage mixed with personal pride and self-righteousness. And yet the suffering and mistreatment that Paul mentions were very real. He was literally stripped, beaten and imprisoned at Philippi. A true self-portrait of Paul’s ministry would somehow need to illustrate his indomitable perseverance in the midst of seemingly overwhelming opposition. Conviction and perseverance in the face of very real danger. Imagine a painting where the evangelist’s words have the power literally to break down the stone walls of prison. That is Paul’s self-portrait as a Christian.

How would you paint your self-portrait? How would you portray yourself as a Christian? Our self-portraits will inevitably be different from Paul’s. Christians today do not face the threat of physical violence or imprisonment for their faith. Other things do threaten Christianity. One commentary I read this week outlined several contemporary threats, highlighting respectability in particular. Respectability threatens Christianity. The deadly weakness of respectability, this work said, is that "it makes no heroic demands. Respectability did not lift civilization to its present level. If the world had always been respectable, it would have permanently congealed. [Respectability] conforms, and does not question. It accepts existing standards, seldom asking if they are right. A community completely respectable would be a study in still life—like [many] churches." (The Interpreter’s Bible)

You see how I got started thinking about portraits. One of the greatest threats to the church and to our own faith today is when we paint our self-portraits as a still life. A still life painting can be exquisitely beautiful, but it is a still life.

Paul reminds us that the portrait of a Christian should be anything but still. He comes, he proclaims, he struggles, he appeals. And he loves. Like a nursemaid caring tenderly for her children. There are other people in Paul’s self-portrait. Always there are other people with Paul in Paul’s self-portrait. People whom he loves.

How would you paint your self-portrait? How would you like to paint it? All self-portraits contain a good bit of wishful thinking. They are the image that the artist or the politician wants to convey to others, whether or not they are always true to that image in their lives. Sometimes I think the self-portrait I would like to draw of myself is not so much a picture as a new high-tech video game. Not one with violence and gore, but one with action, adventure, a journey, a goal, choices and interactions with others.

Imagine the self-portrait you would like to create of yourself as a Christian… The image you would like to present of yourself as a Christian. Not a still life portrait of who you think you are, but an image of who you would like to be. And then, let us try to live the portraits we have created. Modern scientific techniques are showing more and more how the great artists reworked and revised their paintings again and again. Our self-portraits can be like that, works in progress… Always changing, evolving as we grow in our lives with God, until ultimately we come to see that our self-portrait is no less than the image of God.

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