Friday, August 28, 2020

“The Discarded Garment”

Copyright © Edward Riojas

While working on the tail end of a mountain of illustrations, one of them blindsided me.

I have for years been plowing through hundreds of Christian symbol drawings for a back burner book project. A recent visitor to my “studio” managed to put a flame under me to get the project going again, so for the past few days I’ve been tackling symbols of the patriarchs and prophets – one of the last large groups on my to-do list. And then along came Hosea.

Most of the Old Testament prophets had a lot to tell the Israelites. While they weren’t slamming the people of God for going after other gods, the wizened men were consoling the sad-sack captives that they would one day be rescued by a Savior and their captors would be pounded in the dust. So naturally many of the symbols associated with the prophets show, in some way, either the Temple, the city of Jerusalem, or some detail of either. The symbol for Hosea, however, takes a different tack.

Copyright © Edward Riojas
The prophet Hosea has for his symbol a discarded garment. At first it seemed to me a rather innocuous item. The only image of the symbol I could find was dated. It was in a book that wasn’t exactly scholarly. In fact, there was no information at all about the symbol. The drawing was of a garment nicely laid out, as if waiting for a closet hanger. The only description I did find was in another book of symbols which had no illustration of the symbol. That book explained in a simple phrase that the garment signified Israel’s discarding of the Lord. Not entirely satisfied, I went to Scripture and scoured through the prophet’s inspired words.

There isn’t anything in the book of the prophet that specifically mentions a garment. Neither does it mention a tunic, nor a frock. It mentions moths and rust, so only a slight inference is there. The idea of a discarded garment didn’t quite fit. And then I thought of Hosea’s wife.

Gomer's name alone causes us to snicker. Her waywardness, however, wipes the smile off our faces. Her part as the harlot prophetically points to Israel going after other gods. Discarding God starts to make sense.

But the symbol I found was a bit too neat and tidy. When I re-drew it as something truly discarded; as something thrown on the ground. Then what I saw hit hard. The implication of a discarded garment is that someone is very naked. Put two and two together and the prophetic picture of Gomer makes more than perfect sense.

But the prophet’s warning goes beyond wayward Israel and gives stern warning to Christians when considering the thing with which we are clothed. In Holy Baptism, we are clothed with Christ’s righteousness – not our own, for we have none. If we discard that garment and abandon it for something else, then we stand truly naked before God, as did the Israelites. And that is not pretty.





Friday, August 21, 2020

“Lift High The Cross”

Copyright © Edward Riojas

It is clear that the hymn writer had a processional crucifix in mind when he penned the words to "Lift High The Cross," (LSB 837). Even the hymn’s tune, “Crucifer,” is named for the acolyte responsible for carrying the crucifix in a procession. It’s also clear that the hymnist was writing as a member of the Church Militant; as a Christian still fighting the world and its temptations this side of heaven. The words are militaristic, as in the stanza, “Led on their way by this triumphant sign, the hosts of God in conqu’ring ranks combine.”

Processional crucifixes are special pieces of liturgical art. They come in a variety of forms, but typically show the crucified Christ. While not always found in Lutheran churches, they are somewhat common, and tend to be more so in “confessional” or “high” churches. Sometimes budgets don’t allow them, and sometimes they do. Those in the pews shouldn’t, however, worry that processionals are “too Catholic.”

In my experience, processional crucifixes are used not only to process into and recess out of the sanctuary, but they are also used on special occasions during the Gospel readings, in which the Gospel is read in the midst of the congregation. It’s understood, with proper teaching, that the congregation should always face the crucifix as it enters and leaves the sanctuary. This is a sign of respect. So also is the act of bowing as it passes by. Rome has no monopoly on showing respect to the Lord – even a poor representation of Him – and Lutherans will do well to get off their duffs and bow when given the chance to confess their King.

This brings me to an unveiling of my latest piece, a very special processional crucifix. It was not commissioned by anyone. I occasionally allow myself the freedom to create something apart from a client’s wishes. In this case, the idea had been floating around in my mind for some time.

This is not the average processional crucifix, and nothing like it will be found in any church supply catalog. Every part of it was custom made by me, and, while I am more than satisfied with the results, I won’t create another identical to it. That’s not how this artist works.

The crucifix’s uniqueness flows through every component, and it is highly confessional through those same components and as a whole. The corpus – the body of Christ – is the second of three bronzes I had cast from my own wax model. The first corpus was used in a processional crucifix commissioned by First Lutheran, Boston. This corpus, however, has a different patina. A matching tabula ansata – the piece on which Pontius Pilate had an inscription written – hangs above the sculpted image of Christ.

The cross on which the corpus hangs, along with many other components of the piece, are of black walnut. Supporting the crucifix, both structurally and symbolically, is a 3-dimensional representation of the Church. The four Gospel writers have been carved into the four sides of the church's facade. Supporting this is a stout walnut staff with a steel core. If the walnut church or the staff were cut horizontally, a cross would be revealed.  In the words of one of my sons, “[I] must hate acolytes,” for carrying the whole takes more than just reverence – it takes the muscles of a young man. Then again, there is something to be said for substance and weightiness, and the same can be said of what we believe and confess.

The incredibly-heavy base into which it stands is arguably the most “Lutheran” part of the design, although any Christian denomination that clings to Holy Scripture can certainly appreciate it. It is a representation of an open Bible. The pages are oak, and the “cover” is walnut. Walnut inlay is used on the open pages in a VDMA cross design. VDMA is an acronym representing the Latin phrase, “Verbum Domini Manet in Aeternum” – “the Word of the Lord endures forever” (1 Peter 1:25). The phrase was used during the Lutheran Reformation, and still serves as a sort of rallying cry among confessional Lutherans. Well, okay, perhaps the Roman crowd may take umbrage, if only out of ignorance.

Symbolically, the fact that “We preach Christ crucified” (1 Cor. 1:23) is supported by the Church, whose Gospel always proclaims the same. This is, and always will be, immovable through the enduring Word of God, Who is, indeed, the living Christ Jesus Himself. This we will fight to proclaim, “...Till all the world adore His sacred name.”
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For those interested in purchasing this processional crucifix, or for more information, please email me at edriojasartist@gmail.com.  Because of the time and materials invested in this piece, the firm asking price is $15,000, plus shipping.

Details of the four Gospel writers from Processional Crucifix. Edward Riojas. 2020. (Copyright © Edward Riojas)






Friday, August 7, 2020

Works in Progress

Copyright © Edward Riojas

In spite of what’s been going on in the world and in spite of little ‘hiccups’ with family matters, I am still very much at work. The Lord has blessed me with a mountain of work, along with projects that continually materialize.

A quick glance at my “tote board” may give the impression that I’m way over my head where work is concerned, but I am well accustomed to dealing with slow-moving church councils and the occasional project that temporarily gets shelved. Several projects are waiting for congregational approval, so my attention has switched to other projects.

I’m currently finishing up a book project and I’m starting to tinker with a second. Behind that are perhaps three other book projects. If those aren’t enough, some folks are kind enough to urge and nudge and poke me to resurrect a book project of my own on Christian symbolism.

I am still doing design work for Ecclesiastical Sewing. The most recent projects have been interesting, including the replication of a mesoamerican motif.

While all those things are cooking on various burners, I’m also taking time to work on an non-commissioned piece that had been swimming around in my head and is only now coming to fruition. This project, however, is a creative dessert – a lot of other things must necessarily be cleared off my plate before I can fully enjoy it. I’m not quite ready to give sneak peeks just yet, but I will say that both I – and it – will get carried away.

And now that you’ve heard it, it’s time for me to get back to work on the mountain.