Rembrandt’s Crucified Christ

Rembrandt’s Crucified Christ

Rembrandt’s “Christ Crucified Between the Two Thieves” brings Christ down among the spectators. Soldiers, horses, mockers and followers are pressed upon each other. Horses seem to spill upon the crowd.

Grievers hold their bodies in wretched poses. The two thieves flank Christ on either side. They are within speaking distance of him, not shouting distance, as I imagined.

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Ash Wednesday: Guided by St. Clare of Assisi

Ash Wednesday: Guided by St. Clare of Assisi

“Just when I think St. Clare is too lofty for me, when I think she couldn't understand what the past year has been like for me and others, I read of the time she was infirm and bedridden. She could not join her sisters for Christmas midnight Mass, so she was miraculously treated to history's first livestreamed Mass on the wall of her room. Yes, she is the patron saint of television.”

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Finding God in Silence

Finding God in Silence

When I was young and somehow given the chance to stay home alone, I loved to sit in the quiet house and hear what I could hear. It was strange to me that even without my sisters playing or my great-grandmother’s television blaring, the house was not quiet. I could hear the hum of the refrigerator and the lull of the cars on the main street beyond ours — even our house crackled as it settled.

I wanted to get beyond those sounds to hear silence. I wondered what silence even sounded like and what I’d find there.

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Meditating with Giorgione’s painting ‘The Adoration of the Shepherds’

Meditating with Giorgione’s painting ‘The Adoration of the Shepherds’

Imagine: You are bundled in your warmest coat, hat and gloves. It is the week before Christmas in 1938 and you are shopping for the perfect gift for your loved ones along Fifth Avenue in New York City. You peak into the S. H. Kress & Co. department store window for a few ideas and instead come face to face with this early 16th-century painting, “The Adoration of the Shepherds” (1505).

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Imagining the infant Christ

Imagining the infant Christ

I couldn’t sleep. It was a cold and cozy December night. Maybe I ate too many cookies. Or had a list that wouldn’t stop unrolling itself in my head. All I know is I was awake. I left my husband snoring deeply in our bed, curled up on the living room couch with the remote and searched for something to watch on television.

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