The Light
by Tracy Young


Michelangelo Merisi, called Caravaggio, Italian, 1571-1610
Saint John the Baptist in the Wilderness, 1604-1605
From the collection at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

~John 1:6-9

My favorite painting at the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art here in Kansas City is Saint John the Baptist in the Wilderness by Caravaggio. It's one of those works of art that, as you stand before it, seems to be humming, sending off tiny vibrations that you feel through the floor and up through your whole body. It is not flat or motionless - it is trembling, just beyond perception, breathing, fluttering the air about your ears just enough to hear the echo of a whisper.

Or perhaps that's prose too florid to really describe what's happening with this painting and why I love it. So I'll write plainly: I love this painting because of the play of light and shadow. The baptizer's skin is illuminated by a bright light, the source of which we don't see. Just as parts of him glow, others are obscured by shadow. His down-turned face, for example, is well-hidden by the darkness, yet you can just make out his pensive expression: he appears almost melancholic. There is a weight to that expression, to that shadow. I love this painting because as you look more closely, you see clues about who John is and what he's been doing. I didn't see the animal skin peeking out from his cloak at first. I didn't see the fraying edges of the cloth. I certainly didn't see the dirt caked into his toenails on my initial viewing. I love this painting because it compels me to enter into John's story, to wonder what it is he is thinking, to consider the shadow, to revel in the beauty of the light.

It's a good painting for Advent. This time, in which many of us will light advent wreaths, witnessing the growing light week by week, is one of preparation. It is time to prepare the way - and ourselves - for the coming of the Christ-child. John's ministry, his voice in the wilderness, was to help people prepare. Get ready, he said. Repent. Make straight the paths. Someone is coming and it's a big deal. No wonder Caravaggio gave John such a weighty expression.

As we start this second week of Advent and the light grows brighter and shines upon us, what will in our hearts and minds and actions be illuminated? What hides in those dark corners? What hinders our preparation? Where in our relationships, our communities, our nation, our world, is there need for reconciliation, for forgiveness, for repentance? The light is beautiful, but the heat can hurt.

Prayer
Heavenly Father, the light is beautiful, but the heat can hurt. Help us have the strength to let the light into those dark corners. As we recognize how hard it can be to work for justice and pursue the way of peace, remind us of the child for whom we wait.

Path to Peace
You can view Caravaggio's painting online here. As you view the painting, reflect on John's ministry of preparation for the Lord. In a journal, on a post-it, or a note on your computer, write down two or three ways you can work for peace this Advent season as a means of preparing for the entrance of Christ. These ways can be very personal - such as extending a gesture of kindness/forgiveness or civility to someone with whom you've had a falling out - to more global, such as praying for and donating to peacebuilding projects you know about in the CRCNA.

Tracy Young is communications consultant for the Office of Social Justice.