God’s Canvas

Dear Friend,

About ten years ago I came across the writing of Christopher Pramuk in his book Sophia, The Hidden Christ of Thomas Merton. I’ve come across his essays in various magazines since then and his work has continued to help me on the journey of faith. 

In a recent essay published in the magazine “Give Us This Day,” he comes through again. He tells the story of his young daughter, a budding artist, and how she meets the challenge of not having ready access to art supplies, with COVID restrictions closing “non-essential” retailers. When her father discovers a large piece of plywood covered with spider webs under a pile of junk in the garage, she’s delighted. She deems it a “perfect” canvas and lugs it off to her room, prepared to create her masterpiece. 

Here Pramuk detects a hope-charged metaphor. He writes: “our lives…are the canvas upon which God seeks to paint love, light, and new creation into a despairing world.” In other words, Advent challenges us to see our own lives like that of Jesus – rough-hewn, seemingly abandoned - as the unlikely site for divine artistry. God is searching for us, though our feelings of abandonment tell us otherwise. I can see Mission Santa Barbara, too, as part of that broad new canvas, “perfect enough to begin the creation of something new.”

In this Sunday’s Gospel, John the Baptist speaks of one “coming after” him who will baptize with the Holy Spirit, the very Spirit and Wisdom that drew beauty from chaos at the dawn of creation. When Peter tells us in the second reading “be eager to be found without spot or blemish,” maybe he’s telling us to dust off the plywood. In Jesus Christ, God has new plans for us, a new design for our world.

Gratefully,

Fr. Dan ofm