Jesus is the supreme artist, more of an artist than all others, disdaining marble and clay and color, working in the living flesh. – Vincent van Gogh
Vincent van Gogh was a broken man when he first picked up his paintbrushes and pen.
He wanted to be a missionary, to follow in his father’s footsteps as a pastor.
Giving away all his possessions, he lived with the peasants he ministered to.
That wasn’t deemed fitting for a man of God. It was deemed scandalous…and the church kicked him out.
In his brokenness, Vincent found a new purpose from God:
In that deep misery I felt my energy revive, and I said to myself, in spite of everything I shall rise again: I will take up my pencil, which I had forsaken in my discouragement, and I will go on with my drawing. From that moment everything has seemed transformed for me.
The becoming of Vincent van Gogh had begun.
He set out to paint sermons instead of preaching them.
Self-taught, Vincent professed he would rather paint people’s eyes than cathedrals, “for there is something in the eyes that is not in the cathedral.”
Later in life, as his brushstrokes became more bold, his colors violently vibrant, he wrote: “The uglier, older, meaner, iller, poorer I get, the more I wish to take my revenge by doing brilliant colors, well-arranged, resplendent.”
That’s coloring life beautiful. 🙂
Despite all the hardships and despair he suffered, and despite never receiving recognition for his art during his lifetime, Vincent van Gogh embraced beauty.
Henri Nouwen wrote of Van Gogh: “What beauty, what joy, and what ecstasy he was able to embrace. Mourning calls for dancing, dancing for mourning. Glory is hidden in pain. And in this mysterious duality that has become a duet, Vincent celebrates life.”
His brokenness became his art. His art, the sermon of his life . . . beautiful.
What sermons will you paint, write, create, and live today?
All the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross. Colossians 1:20 MSG
©Linda Crawford 2013
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