Jesus as God's work of art

There’s a prayer we say every Sunday in the vestry, with the choir and the servers, before the service begins. It goes like this: “O God, whom saints and angels delight to worship in heaven, be with your servants who seek through art and music to perfect the praises offered by your people on earth, and give to them even now glimpses of your beauty and make them worthy at length to behold it unveiled forever more, through Christ our Lord.”

It’s a prayer acknowledging the gift of music given to us by God to offer back in praise. It’s a prayer acknowledging the gift of art, of hangings and linens, brass and silver, bulletins and original prayers, which beautify our worship every week, turning our hearts to the God who created the heavens and the earth, so that we, with equal joy, might create in return. 

It’s a prayer that echoes the opening line from our Psalm this morning: “Ascribe to the LORD, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength. Ascribe to the LORD the glorious name; worship the LORD in holy splendour.” Indeed, we “ascribe to the LORD” the honour due unto God’s name when we make art and it’s on the theme of God as artist that I’d like to reflect on this morning.

What if the Baptism of Jesus were God’s way of saying to the world, “this is my Son, the beloved, my most profound work of art”? In Jesus’ baptism we see God, the artist and creator of the universe who at the beginning of space and time, when the earth was a formless void, picked up a paintbrush and, by the power of the Spirit moving like wind  over the waters said, “Let there be light.” 

So also, when Jesus is coming up out of the water, the sky torn open, the Holy Spirit coming down like a dove, so also a voice like that of an artist reflecting on their life’s work, says, “You are my Son, the Beloved. With you, I am well pleased.” The God who showcases their art at the beginning of creation likewise showcases their art at Jesus’ baptism. Jesus: fully divine, fully human, the One who for all humankind is fearfully and wonderfully made. 

Today, we have the privilege of blessing a sacred work of art that has been made by human hands to the glory of God. These vestments, worn for the first time today, were commissioned in memory of Suzi Smith. Suzi, the beloved wife of David, a faithful member of this community. The vestments were designed and hand sewn by Thomas Roach, a textile artist. Thomas, who says that he taught himself to sew at age six because he couldn’t draw! Thomas uses stitching, dyeing and cloth as a medium to explore spiritual themes and community stories. He seeks to evoke the liminal spaces between this world and that of the Divine. I’ve always imagined that artists like Thomas were present at the baptism of Jesus.

Last year, the Parish Council did a visioning exercise to inspire the design for these vestments. David offered two words that, for him, captured Suzi’s spirit and zest for life. The words were “play” and “whimsy.” As a Parish Council, we shared stories of play and whimsy. We heard about soccer and piggyback rides with the grandchildren; the giggles of a newborn baby; the deep-belly laughs shared amongst friends around the dinner table. We heard stories of going to plays, of theatre and ballet and concerts: the feeling you get when everyone in the crowd knows the words, the euphoria of a standing ovation.

David and I relayed these stories to Thomas and he came back to us with this design. I’ll invite Thomas up in a moment, but I wanted to invite Christopher and Peggy to stand at the front as I share some of the words that Thomas offered to David and me, which I think really grounded the themes of play and whimsy in this St Clement’s community. 

The first was the importance of bringing the outside in, which is a feature of Thomas's work. He encouraged us to imagine play and whimsy situated in the natural world right outside our doors. So, you’ll see on the vestments, cedar and fern. There’s also the way, when the priest, deacon, and server are standing together at the altar, that the design reflects trees in a forest. Then there's the Iona abbey cross, which reflects David and Suzi’s time repairing a section of the abbey during their time in Scotland.

Early on in the design process, we had to make a decision whether or not the three vestments would reflect the Roman style of vestments, with the ranks of each order—priest, deacon, server/subdeacon—indicated with bands across the front of the vestment. We learned about what’s known in church art as the “Abbey movement” where instead, the vestments complement or parallel one another, the deacon and the server’s having a similar cut and design, with the lines in the centre on the priest’s vestments drawing the eye towards the Sacrament, the bread and wine on the altar. This design draws more on what the three orders, priest, deacon, and lay, have in common than what makes them distinct. 

As you can see, we went the “Abbey” as opposed to the Roman way, and for me as a priest in this community it’s an important symbol of two things: first, that liminal space where heaven and earth meet that we hear about in Jesus’ baptism, where God isn’t up  here and humanity down below, but God and humanity together, held in common in the body of Christ. And, second, how, through our own play and whimsy at St Clement’s, rather than competing, say, for rank and order, we seek to celebrate and share what we have in common. 

Now, you might be wondering, why on earth we would go to such great lengths for a project, that I suppose, might seem frivolous or extravagant? I think what art in church does, particularly vestments, I think they say about what we do here—that it’s worthwhile, that it’s worth making beautiful and spending time on (the lining for each vestment took about 3-4 hours to sew because they were hand-stitched). And, for the people who wear these vestments, particularly I want to point out the youth who will wear these vestments, it says that you are worthwhile, that what you do here—your offering to God and to your community is valuable. 

I’ve spoken far too much on a day that’s really about letting the art speak for itself, so I’d like now to invite Thomas to say a few words and, after that, David and Ginger, I’ll invite you to join us for the blessing of the vestments.


A prayer of dedication for vestments for the liturgy*

As I pray, “Clothe your ministers with righteousness”, please respond, “Let your people sing with joy.” 

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.

Almighty God, we thank you that you have put it into the hearts of your people to make offerings for your service, and have been pleased to accept their gifts. Be with us now and bless us as we set apart these vestments to your praise and glory.

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.

Bless Thomas, may the stories he tells, more than anything, be spaces where he meets you, the Living God. In each draft, abandonment, completion, dream, may he find altars. Rocks of remembrance. Intimacies. May his art be fun! May darkness be unto him seeds of light, and may he never walk the darkness alone. 

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.

Almighty God, we remember before you today your faithful servant Suzi. We pray that through these vestments, her memory would be blessed, and, that having opened to her the gates of everlasting life, you will receive her more and more into your joyful service, that, with all who have faithfully served you in the past, she may share in the eternal victory of Jesus Christ our Lord.

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.

We bless your Name, O Lord, because it has pleased you to enable your servant David to offer this gift for your worship. Remember him for good, and grant that all who benefit from this gift may show their thankfulness to you by using it in accordance with your will.

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.

O God, at the baptism of Jesus, you revealed your Son clothed in majesty and glory: Accept these vestments for the use of the clergy and lay ministers of your Church, that, being clothed with humility, they may show forth your eternal splendour.

Clothe your ministers with righteousness.
Let your people sing with joy.
Amen.

*Adapted from: The Episcopal Church, The Book of Occasional Services (2018)