But then, in any art museum, I am a seeker of the Savior.  It’s hard not to be.  Scenes of his life and ministry dominate – up to a certain point in history.

Detroit’s Art Institute is no exception.  It has an impressive range: from early Christian art, with its stylized iconography to 19^th century Sunday School seriousness.  What strikes me, as I wander the galleries, is how dominant Scripture was to art and society for a millennium and a half.

I know that it’s probably wrong to assume this is because the artists were all devout.  For much of that time, secular scenes were frowned upon (excepting Greek mythology).  But knowing, first-hand, of the meditative nature of making art, I have to believe that these painters wrestled deeply with how to get to the essence of a passage of Scripture.

Much like we do in our own Bible studies.

So, when I see an intense, idealized Jesus, I appreciate the honor being given.  He makes the sign of the cross in one hand and holds the ‘celestial sphere’ (the universe) in the other.  Jesus, the Lord of all creation.

And I applaud Rembrandt’s attempt to make Jesus more accessible.  Since the artist lived at the edge of the Jewish quarter in his city, he used a young Jewish neighbor as his model.  I love the tilt of the head and attentive gaze, as if he is listening intently to us.  Or looking right into our needy souls.  Jesus, our loving Savior.

In the case of the magi, they knew what they were looking for but not who.   And they only had a vague sense of where.

Now after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea in the days of Herod the king, behold, wise men from the east came to Jerusalem, saying, “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews? For we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him.” (Matthew 2:1–2)

They were driven by an inner need to find this new king – not just to see him, but to worship him.  To become his loyal subjects.  Not only to give him their three physical gifts, but to pay him homage.

Later in the museum, I come across the factory murals of Diego Rivera.  They are immense and overwhelming, portraying humans as tiny cogs in a huge, impersonal machine.  I focus my camera on just one small vignette: a line of tired, grim workers trudging home from the assembly line.

Even in a world that has left behind a common knowledge and interest in Scripture, people are still seeking Jesus. They may not know it.  In their pursuit of significance, they may turn to a myriad of other sources – work, family, security, or making some kind of permanent mark (that one often calls to me) – but these are all the false roads I mentioned in the last post.

Christ is the only true king for which our hearts were made.

And so, we come humbly before the Savior like a wise man approaching the infant Christ.  We have no gifts to give but our poor, distracted, inconsistent souls, submitted in homage.

Which is the very reason, incredible as it seems, that he came.

Jesus, you are the One who everyone seeks, whether they know it or not.  We bow before you, presenting ourselves as a gift.  Use us for your glory.

Reader: What art brings your mind to worship this time of year?

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