Pauca Verba is Latin for A Few Words.
Showing posts with label Quinquagesima Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Quinquagesima Sunday. Show all posts

Sunday, March 3, 2019

Quinquagesima ~ Lent With Camille Pissarro




Quinquagesima is the last of the three get ready Sundays before Lent. It is roughly fifty days until Easter. The posts for the previous two Sundays can bring us up to speed. 

The spiritual life doesn't happen quickly, but rather gradually over time, like the growing of a tree and the ripening of fruit. And so the Church invites us to ease into Lent these three preparatory weeks before the full forty days of Lent called, the Quadragesima.

Here I'm proposing that each day during Lent, we take a few minutes to reflect on a painting of Camille Pissarro to inform us spiritually. I'm not an artist, not an art expert, not an art critic. As a priest, I'm  interested in how, during the Church's Springtime, Pissarro's paintings might help us to grow inwardly: how to become more docile-hearted persons.

Pissarro painted the self-portrait here in 1873, when he was 43 years old. Below, I've offered some key life-themes from Pissarro's life that suggest he knew what it means to live deeply through struggle, loss and suffering, and that this understanding would inform his painting.

Important note: The Salon (begun in 1667) was France's official art exhibition. It is said that from 1748-1890, it was the greatest annual or biennial art event in the western world. If you were a painter, you would want acceptance by the Salon in order to get your work and name known. When Pissarro's first paintings were accepted at the Salon he was identified as a student of the approved artists Carot and Anton Melbye. Subsequent and independent attempts to have paintings accepted were rejected because the new Impressionist technique was seen as too much of a departure from the great formal military, mythical and religious themed paintings of the day. One critic said of Pissarro's new technique, "It is good for wallpaper." 

Camille was sent away to a boarding school at age twelve. Can we imagine the loneliness? At age 23, Camille's younger brother, Gustave died.

When the Pissarro family moved to Paris, Camille fell in love with Julie, the Catholic kitchen maid.  The family objected and she was sent away. Years later they married, though the synagogue considered the marriage invalid.

Camille was still a young man when his father died. His work (indeed the whole Impressionist movement) was rejected by the Salon. Minette was born, but would die at age four. When Camille's paintings weren't selling he was forced to pawn his possession.

Camille was part of a plan with artist friends to show their new-styled work on the sidelines of the Salon shows, but the plan never materialized.

In 1870, France and Prussia were at war. The Pissarro family, along with many other artists, went into exile in London. Upon returning to France at wars end, they discovered the house had been plundered and all but 40 of the 1500 paintings Camille had left behind had been stolen.

The art dealers with whom Pissarro had arrangements were often disappointing; Camille becoming suspicious of them and the way they did business. When the first Impressionist Exhibition was a failure, Camille suffered a great financial crisis. A second exhibition also failed with few sales and harsh criticisms. At this time, Pissarro was reduced to painting ceramics, blinds and fans. Colleagues dropped out of alternative exhibitions.


Frequently moving from one apartment to another, looking for new subjects to paint and lower rents, he sold paintings at low prices to make ends meet. At age 50, a debilitating eye disease slowed him down. Repeated surgeries offered no long term healing. Eventually Pissarro could no longer work outdoors as the sunlight was blinding. 

Following the death of their mother, Camille's sibling rrelationships deteriorated over money. His relationship with Julie was also seriously stressed over finances. Only at age 62 did his paintings begin to sell well. Their son, Felix, died at age 25.

Do any of these kinds of human experiences resonate with you personally? And yet, through all of this, Camille Pissarro said, "All the sorrows, all the bitterness, all the sadness-es, I forget them and ignore them in the joy of working." 

And during Lent we will see this joy permeating his canvasses. I might suggest that even (or perhaps especially) his evolved brush-stroke technique suggests a forward and joyful energy.


Sunday, February 7, 2016

Quinquagesima Sunday ~ The Freshening Of Our Personal Atmosphere



Here's a little animated scene of Charlie Brown's friend Pig-pen, who lives perpetually in a cloud of dirt and dust. He even blackens the new snowman, seemingly oblivious, and apparently pleased to be living in a contagious atmosphere of dirt. 

Atmosphere: *the gaseous envelope surrounding the earth. *a pervading influence: environment, e.g. an atmosphere of peace. *the dominant mood or emotional tone of a work of art, as of a play or novel *a distinctive quality as of a place.


But I'd go even further, suggesting that we each carry around with us a personal atmosphere of our own creating. I knew a fellow years ago who lived in such an atmosphere of funny - that he never said anything straight, and so he couldn't be known or trusted. Someone might carry around an atmosphere of doomsday, suspicion, conspiracy or even hate, moral haughtiness or power. Conversely, one might carry an atmosphere of joy, generosity, inner peace, optimism, compassion.

And like Pig-pen we can live in a great dust-up, but of complaint, grumbling and blaming. It's pervasive throughout our first-world culture, revealing a great discontent and ingratitude.We're perhaps not even aware of it within ourselves and might resent having someone point it out. But if we are aware of it, we might step up to this proposed fast (no grumbling, complaining, criticizing) and see if the spell can be broken by Easter. 

I'm acknowledging that this may well present a much greater challenge than the usual candy, music, booze, junk-food abstinence thing. But forty days is the biblical number that simply means a long time. So we have this long time to start something new. And that's what Easter is about, yes? Like the springtime, We can change into, or become, something new.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, scroll down to the posts below for the previous two Sundays titled: Sexagesima and Septuagesima. 

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Intercessions ~ Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time ~ Quinquagesima


Ice church in Sweden

There are seventy countries where young girls are threatened,/ attacked,/ violated and even killed for going to school./ We pray for the safety of the world's girls/ and the conversion of anyone who would harm them./ We pray to the Lord

Lent begins this Wednesday./ We pray to leave the past in ashes,/ setting out on the forty day journey to an Easter transformation./ We pray to the Lord.

February is Black History Month./ We pray for the healing of our country where racial hatred endures/ and there is inequality and sorrow./ We pray to the Lord.

We pray for healing and reconciliation where families are in crisis./ We intercede for the elderly who are alone,/ for those who are homesick/ and for children who are waiting to be adopted./ We pray to the Lord.

We ask the blessings of good health,/ safety and well-being for Pope Francis,/ for priests,/ deacons and seminarians/ and for the Church where it suffers by internal weakness or outside threats./ We pray to the Lord.

In the winter time we pray for the homeless poor./ the unemployed,/ those who must work outdoors,/ and all who help where the winter brings suffering./ We pray to the Lord.

For the sick,/ those in constant pain,/ those who daily manage handicaps and special needs,/ those who struggle with addictions,/ and for the healing of destructive anger./ We pray to the Lord.

For terrorists who take life,/ and for their victims./ For all who have died this week around the world/ and for the comforting of mourners./ We pray to the Lord.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Quinquagesima Sunday ~ Christ Heals Spiritual Blindness




IT IS ROUGHLY FIFTY DAYS UNTIL EASTER. Lent begins this week. On the old calender, today is Quinquagesima, the last of the three Get Ready Sundays. The traditional gospel is Luke 18: 31-43 ~ Jesus cures the blind man on the road to Jericho. The blind man of course is all of humanity, fumbling in the dark world of  ignorant unknowing, pretension, power-grab and selfish consuming.

Some people will emphasize the human blindness in terms of not knowing the saving doctrines of Christ. With all this talk of the New Evangelization these days I don't think the world is able to hear the Good News of the Gospel because there's no felt need for Christ. One Cardinal even questions if it's possible for Christ to be made attractive to the world today.

Instead, I'd suggest the global blindness takes the form of hatred. The account of Cain and Abel suggests it has been this way since the earliest days of the human story. Rather than rehearsing it all, anyone who pays attention to the news is aware of how deep, ugly and persistent hatred is.

Fundamentally, hatred is strong feelings against the other. Hatred needn't necessarily wish someone dead. Hatred feels, we could do quite well without you. Hatred at least secretly believes we are not all equal. That could mean: straight people over gay people, Americans over Mexicans, me over my in-laws, Christians over Muslims, my people over the people down the road.

Alice Herz-Sommer was referenced here in a post on February 25. Upon her death at 110 years of age, she was the oldest known Holocaust survivor. She lost all of her relatives, but her son, to the Nazis, and was only kept alive by them because she could play the piano. The Nazis liked to be able to put on concerts for the International Red Cross as proof of how well-off the Jews were under their care. Alice has left us some rather amazing quotes to ponder, as we remain behind, living in a world often saddened by hatred.




After the war German journalists tracked down Alice hoping for an interview. Expecting she would hate them, they stayed in the outside hallway. Instead she invited them in and offered them hospitality. She said:

"Hatred only feeds hatred. I try to find the best  in everybody. Behind each person is hidden a  life story and I like to listen to it and learn from the experience."
"We are all the same. What the Germans did, any group could do. There's good and bad in  every person; I have chosen to pay attention to the good."

Some people never admit to their hatreds. Or they minimize, rationalize or defend it. Some are simply blind to themselves. I'm putting myself on a news blackout for Lent. It's almost all agitating bad news anyway that makes me opinionated and negative. I have a feeling that television news weakens us.

Instead, I'll read more this Lent. Ah! maybe I"ll listen to Chopin. Alice played and mastered Chopin after the Nazis took her  relatives away and the neighbors stole everything right from under her, everything but the piano. She played Chopin while in the Terezin camp. She likened Brahms, Chopin and Beethoven to religion, as their music kept her from bitterness and  hatred.

Maybe for Lent we could put Alice's quotes on the bathroom mirror and other strategic places around the house. Perhaps we could listen to Chopin. Or Mozart. It's said that for all his personal troubles, Mozart was an angel in disguise.