Cathy Abbott, student
Divine Energies
mixed media
“Divine Energies” began with a satellite photograph from NASA of a river basin (as seen from outer space) and a course on Creativity and the Image of God.  The photograph showed God’s creation in nature’s own colors of green, blue, and earthy brown—as seen from “the heavens.”  Rivers run through the Bible.  Eden has a river that divides into tributaries, and the book of Revelation tells us that a river flows by the throne of God.  Jesus spoke of the “living water” of baptism.  The Jordan River plays a central role in the geography of Jerusalem.  Many encounters with God occur by rivers, including Jacob’s wrestling, and Ezekiel’s transportation to the heavens.  Reading the Eastern Orthodox theologian Vladimir Lossky, I learned about the “divine energies” which pulsate out from God, seeking to lure us humans and all of God’s creation back into relationship with God and others.  I wondered what God’s creation (the river basin) might look like if we could “see” the divine energies.  It struck me that the marvelous intense palate of India—vibrant reds, shocking yellows, hot pinks, and deep purples---might well be the palate of the divine energies because they seem to pulsate with life

Jacob Wrestling with the River-Ladder
mixed media
“Jacob Wrestling with the River-Ladder” resulted from a semester-long reflection on Jacob’s journey, which I originally conceived as a series of scenes from the cycle of Jacob stories. Jacob’s life is full of both conflict and blessings (what Brueggemann calls “the power of life”): Jacob and his twin brother Esau struggle in the womb (even before they are born); Jacob steals his brother’s blessing and then has to flee from home to escape Esau’s wrath; while in flight, Jacob has a dream of a ladder (which turns out to be a gateway to heaven, a holy place, a place of blessing); and on his return home twenty years later, Jacob wrestles with God at the river Jabbok, while Esau and 400 men wait for him on the other side of the river. Early on, the image of a “river-ladder” came to me as a way of capturing the paradox of struggle and blessing in Jacob’s life. Both experiences of God came to Jacob at liminal times and liminal places, as he went away from and returned “home.” The idea of having Jacob wrestle (dance?) with the river-ladder came to me as a gift very late in the process—but after long hours in the studio working away at much less compelling images. I just wonder if the artistic process is a lot like Jacob’s/ Israel’s experiences with God: the tenacious quality of living in a “committed relationship---all the conflict, mistrust, and wrestling that are the “hard part,” so that one can get to that place where one accept God’s blessings as a gift, can trust the promises of God, and be a blessing to others.

I decided to execute my first version of the image using hand-made paper I brought back from India, so the palate and the materials used reflect my own “journeys”—journeys that changed me and took me far away from “home.” I executed the image in different color palates and papers because our interpretations of our journeys—especially our “crossings”---look different to us at different times in our lives. I am indebted to a photograph by Howard Schutz of a man dancing underwater as a model for the figure of Jacob (Water Dance, 125, edited by Beverly J. Orstein).

Theotokos
stained glass
“The Lord created me at the
 beginning of his work,
the first of his acts of long ago.

When he established the heavens,
I was there

I was beside him like a master worker;
I was daily his delight,
rejoicing before him always,
rejoicing in his inhabited world
and delighted in the human race.

For whoever finds me finds life.”
                          Proverbs 8:22-36

The image for my stained glass piece began with a friend of mine who was pregnant a number of years ago. While the image is about new life and the wonder of creation, it is about more than the wonder of human pregnancy and birth. I am struck by the recurring stories in the Hebrew Bible of women who are barren, and God’s action to grant them a child—often a very special child who will play a critical role in fulfilling God’s purposes for his people. In my image, the way the woman is holding her body signifies that THIS is a very special child. Could it be the Christ child? Perhaps. Certainly, the image connects with Genesis 1 (“In the beginning when God created…”) and John 1 (“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”) But most of all, the image connects with Woman Wisdom in Proverbs (see above). She was also there, at the beginning, with God, co-creating the world with God. And God made us in God’s image. So, the new life is about all of us being children of God, and made in God’s image.

The bearer of the child (who is in God’s image) might be a Theotokos, a bearer of God. Perhaps she is an icon, which grants us direct access to the divine---a window to a direct encounter with God. She is tattooed with motifs from the Ethiopian icon tradition. In Ethiopia, tattooing is a sign of reverence, which seems appropriate for She who was present at the beginning. I hope that those who encounter Her will find life.

Billie Abraham, student
Psalm 22
mixed collage
The medium of collage consists of collecting, arranging and layering thoughts and ideas, as well as paper, fabric, glue and pain. As a collage artist, I accumulate random materials that are available for creating a textual image. From the reservoir of what might appear to be discarded scraps, I build abstract or representational visuals that invite the viewer to engage with the whole as well as the parts that make up the whole.

The emotions expressed in Psalm 22 cycle through despair, petition, acceptance and affirmation. The verses of the psalm manifested layers and layers of passions built upon one another. The psalmist was not objectively observing a crisis occurring in someone else’s life. The psalmist was calling out his own primal reactions. The medium of collage allowed me to express the power of the psalm through the process of layering materials in response to the layers of emotion.

Joe Arnold, staff
Broken
wood, glass, steel
In Broken, I wanted to capture the intensity of feeling broken, alone, and wounded. I was sure going into the class that I wanted to make a crucifix. I think the Protestant church has too often forgone focusing on the crucifix as an image of our faith in favor of empty crossed that are tinged with the hope of Easter. The crucifix forces us to focus our attention on suffering and loss. It makes us ask how we stand with people in the Good Fridays of their lives when the span between Good Friday and Easter Sunday seems lost in eternity.
Meg Artley, staff
The Last Day in the Garden
oil on canvas
They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden at the time of the evening breeze, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden.
Genesis 3:8-9

For long ago you broke your yoke and burst your bonds, and you said, “I will not serve!”. . .
Yet I planted you as a choice vine from the purest stock.
How then did you turn degenerate and become a wild vine?”
                              Jeremiah 2:20-21

Abaya I
Oil on canvas

Abaya II
Oil on canvas
Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion for the child of her womb?
Even these may forget yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you
on the palms of my hands;
your walls are continually before me.
                                Isaiah 49:15-16

Mitchell Bond
Holy, holy, holy – Advent Seraph
stained glass
Far from the peaceful cherubic angels often associated with Christmas, the seraphim are described as mysterious and somewhat frightening creatures. In Isaiah’s prophetic vision, they surround the throne of God and sing “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of his glory.” This seraph was created for Advent as a reminder that the essence of the season is eschatological. As we wait for the coming of the Christ child, we also wait for the coming of God’s reign—judgment and justice, a new heaven and a new earth, in our midst and yet to come.

Evelyne Bohomme, student
Untitled
charcoal on paper
This portrait was drawn as part of an assignment in Sarah Demas’s “Faces as Form” class in the Art Studio here at Wesley. My gratitude goes to Sarah, a great artist and teacher, who is extremely devoted to her students. So, we learned about the forms of the face and its basic structures, as this work shows.

Rick Cotherm, student
Quoheleth’s Clock
Collage

It is a time to … 28 hour clock with 4 seasons and what was there before Creation—water, chaos, and wisdom (Sophia).

Penelope Crall, student
Blue/yellow/green meditation
oil pastels on paper
I like to play with color sometimes. I feel such play makes God smile. During this sketch, I was praying. Color play, to me, is a type of contemplative prayer.

Between Class Doodle
ink and paper
This is a doodle from my sketch book I carry around with me. Sometimes, between classes or when I have free time, I sketch to relax. I did this one in the refectory sometime in January of this year.

Fracture Flower
oil on board
I really like stained glass windows and felt the flower looked like colored glass, so I added the black lines. Usually it hangs in my kitchen

Sarah Dorrance
Spring 2003
collage
It seemed like spring would never come in 2003, when the cherry blossoms finally poked out their delicate petals. I just had to have a longer vision of them than what my short memory could remember.
 

Jason Fallin, student
You Will Not Surely Die
photography on wood
This was an assignment for the Holy in DC Art. We were asked to create a theologically focused art work. This piece is focused on the serpent’s conversation with Eve in Genesis. He told her that if she ate the fruit of the tree, “You will not surely die.” This is a meditation on the outcome of that assertion. It explores the idea that decay and entropy are not only physical realities; they are also evidence of a spiritual reality as well. If as Hopkins suggests, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God,” then it is also charged with the ugliness of sin.

Dawn Lockett Hobson, student
Pecola
clay/paint
Pecola Breedlove is a character from Toni Morrison’s book, “The Bluest Eye.” She is a school-aged girl who is told all of her life that she is “black and ugly.” What intrigued me about the character is that her story is an extreme response to the dynamics surrounding skin color and beauty in the history of the Black community. Like many, Pecola wears the “tag” she has been give by others like clothing. She owns it and it drives her crazy. If only she had the bluest eyes. Then she would be loved. Then she would be beautiful.

Ashley B. Hoover, student
Acts 2
fabric
This stole was created for the liturgical season of Pentecost based on Acts 2:1-6. During Pentecost, “they were all gathered together.” The different shades, designs and characters of each flame are intentional. “The sound came. . .” but I could hear the flutter of a “rush of violent wind.” That wind is expressed in movement by the flames used to further move the piece. The hemline of the stole is outline purposefully to imitate the flame as the center (Holy Spirit) of this stole at Pentecost.

Kim Jackson, student
Lily #1, #2, #3
photography
These were shot for a visual accompaniment to part of Handel’s Messiah, specifically the Hallelujah chorus. Each image progressively reveals what the image represents

Catherine Kapikian, faculty
Why
monoprint

Paradise Lost
colograph
Both of my works in this exhibition are a result of experiments with print making techniques. The work titled “Why” is a monoprint, created during the time of the December ’04 tsunami. It reflects my thought about one’s own perceived tsunami. The work titled “Paradise Lost” is a colograph. I printed an edition of six from the original plate.

Sandy MacFarlan, student
Underneath the Wings of the Lord of Spirits
fabric, feathers, glue
This work is based on “The Similitudes of Enoch,” Jewish apocalyptic writing from 4^th C. BCE to 1^st C. CE. Enoch travels to the heavens: “And I saw a dwelling place underneath the wings of the Lord of the Spirits; and all the righteous and the elect before him shall be as intense as the light of fire.” (39:7). The blue border represents 39:5: “Righteousness flowed before them like water, and mercy like dew upon the earth.” The angel shows Enoch mountains of iron, copper, silver, gold, colored metal, and lead: “…all of them, in the presence of the Elect One, will become like honeycomb that melts before fire.” (52:6).

All streams run to the sea,  but the sea is  not full
weaving, fabric, paint, embroidery cotton, dog hair

This work represents part of Ecclesiastes 1:7, with the river system woven in a continuous piece. Water imagery from the other books studied in the course is included. From left to right:
Song of Songs 4:15: “You are a garden fountain, a well of flowing water …”
Ruth 2:9: “Whenever you are thirsty, go and get a drink from the water jars …”
Lamentations 2:19: “Pour out your heart like water in the presence of the Lord.”
Lamentations 3:48: “Streams flow from my eyes because my people are destroyed.”
Esther (with additions) 10:6: “There was a little spring that became a river; and there was light and sun and abundant water …”

Michelle Markey, student
Rooted in Flight
bronze/ceramic sculpture
I created this piece as an embodiment of the myriad lived tensions and paradoxes: the release/tension interplay in dance; the desire to be rooted vs. the desire to explore; the growth and flight that sometimes come out of pain; the cross and the answering resurrection. For me, it has been a study of the possible impossibilities.
 

Vikki Montgomery, student
The Cry
porcelain clay
This bas relief sculpture was created as a reflection on Isaiah 5:1-7 for my Fall 2004 Hebrew Bible class taught by David Hopkins. The Isaiah passage tells the story of a vineyard planted that yields wild grapes, the disappointment that it engenders, and what happens as a result of this disappointment. The last section reads, “He expected justice but saw bloodshed; Righteouseness, but heard a cry!.” The concept of cry captured my imagination, so in this piece I attempted to embody the anguish expressed.

Let me sing for my beloved a love song concerning his vineyard:
My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill.
He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines;
He built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes. . . .
And now I will tell you what I will do to my vineyard.
I will remove its hedge, and it shall be devoured;
I will break down its wall, and it shall be trampled down;
I will make it a waste; it shall not be pruned or hoed,
and it shall be overgrown with briers and thorns.
I will also command the clouds that they rain no rain upon it.
For the vineyard of the Lord is the house of Israel,
And the people of Judah  are his pleasant planting;
He expected justice but saw bloodshed;
Righteousness, but heard a cry!
                                                        Isaiah 5:-17

Real Life
ceramic clay
I teach a college-level Introduction to Human Communication class, also known as Speech. I have often used a small chambered nautilus shell to show my students how to use and object in making a speech. It never seemed large enough for that purpose, so I decided to re-create one in ceramic clay while taking  Figurative Sculpture with Patrick Birge in the 2004-2005 school year. At first I was striving to make a “perfect” shell, but as I worked on it I overdid the hollowing out and caused some thin places that turned into holes. Patrick encouraged me to incorporate these into the design. When coating the shell, I used pearlized paint with a gritty substance. The end product looks as if it has weathered life in the elements; it embodies ruggedness and beauty. In a sense, it represents me.

Shelly O’Connell, student
Sunday Morning Beauty
(from the collection of David Pederson)
Watercolor
The peacefulness of Sunday morning in the village is conveyed in this work.

Autumn on the Farm
Watercolor
This is the fourth painting I have done. I’ve discovered that I really love painting trees. Their beauty shines through.

Tranquil Sailing
(from the collection of Janet Ware)
Watercolor
This is the first painting I ever did. I had never painted or drawn prior to doing this one. Painting allows me to enter the stillness.

Janet Salbert, student
Let me be empty for Thee
paint, chair
I painted this chair to use for healing services, rather than have those who are ill try to kneel at the altar for prayer. I wanted to provide a place for them to be comfortable during anointing with oil and laying on of hands. The doctrine of creation is the starting point for the way I understand prayer, and I painted the chair to reflect that. I love the “stillness” of the image of a chair, but I did not want this chair to appear immovable. Prayer is active, a turning to God. The images and the process reflect that. When we empty ourselves in prayer, there is room for God’s love to fill us.

Carroll Saussy, faculty emerita
Koi in Tandem
watercolor
I first saw a watercolor weave at an art show in Potomac and was intrigued. Then I wove flowers, geese, hummingbirds, crabs, vegetables, and finally koi. Woven koi have been my favorite because the fish swim and the water moves, and weaving two, more or less, duplicate paintings together brings new possibilities and delights to the eye. I visit koi ponds whenever our paths cross. Koi enthusiasts at the ponds or shows ask me if I raise koi, and I reply, “No, I paint them.”

Christopher Schafer, student
The Snake Handler
acrylic paint on drywall
This was a piece done for my sociology of religion class at Shippansburg last spring. I researched the Church of God and Signs following known for their snake handling. The piece was originally intended to be placed in front of white drywall on a stand behind the altar, to give the appearance of a real snake handler in a simple church.

The style was done in a folk style of the people with the real focus on the trance-like state of faith that snake handlers go into when holding the snakes.

Sarah Shepherd, staff
Untitled
fused glass
This was created at Penland School of Crafts in North Carolina. I first created a clay form, cast it in silica plaster and used the plaster cast to create the piece. I have long been attracted to the spiral shape – a symbol of the feminine divine. This piece can also be used as a finger labyrinth.

Untitled (bowl)
fused glass
This piece is created almost entirely from scrap pieces of glass fused together in a kiln at temperatures close to 2000 F. I first created the square in the center, then made it into the dish shape and finally slumped it into the bowl shape. This piece was created as part of my experience at Penland.

Matt Smith, student
You Cannot Follow
acrylic, collage, ink on foam board
You see a lot of post-resurrection scenes where an impassive Jesus is distancing himself from Mary. I took a print of one of those paintings and riffed on it while preserving the emotional distance. The grid overlay reminds me of the way old sci-fi used to depict the future or electronica music today.

Eschatology
acrylic, photograph, collage, cardboard, aluminum foil, etc. on foam board
The individual panels are Calculus (red with a dove), Sinner’s Prayer (light blue), Solipsism (green man in center), Final Victory (dead dragon), Of Course (red/orange with cross), and Eye of God. I used these works to help process ideas from Soulen’s Systematic Theology last year. Careful viewers can find The Late Great Planet Earth, Terry Schiavo, the Twin Towers, two Beatles, “O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing,” and Missouri.

Deborah Sokolove, faculty
Becoming Human
acrylic and copper on board

All Things New
acrylic and copper on board

Cosmos
acrylic and copper on board
These works are from my Creation Series, which began as an extended meditation on the stories found in Genesis. In them, I try to evoke the sense of eternity and the divine presence that I find in the traditional art forms of many cultures, as well as in the gleam of flickering candles, or in a night sky filled with stars. Borrowing techniques and images from a variety of sources, I employ a limited palette of mineral pigments that might have been available to pre-industrial artists. Instead of the traditional egg tempera, however, I use a modern, acrylic medium that is somewhat more forgiving. The resulting clear, brilliant colors suggest to me a mystical world that is lit from within, defying the physical laws of gravity and optics.

Harold Wheat, student
Berrigan,
pencil on paper
Dan Berrigan once said, “I imagine a way out. Then, put a foot in it.” Testimony. I meditated on his faith-filled activism as I drew this picture.