Mtr Mary Trainor

Dear friend,

In a church full of sacred art such as Saint Philip’s, it may come as a surprise to realize that Christians once went back and forth over the propriety of such items in a house of God. It may even be an argument that is not over for some, but for now, it seems the battle has been won--a victory that is owed to Saint John of Damascus. John believed that to deny physical representation of holy people and relics--for example, icons--is tantamount to denying the incarnation itself, perhaps the most elaborate “icon” of God.

Such thinking has even been extended to the notion of wearing “cross” jewelry. But I would be lost if that viewpoint every returned to mainline thought,

In 2003, after my first year of seminary, I spent a few days in El Paso visiting family. Their church had a lovely and fairly sizable store that was well stocked with James Avery silver jewelry. One of the items was the standard Avery cross ring, just my size. I had wanted one for a while, and this seemed meant to be. I bought it, and have worn it daily for the past eighteen years.

What I’ve noticed is that in times of distress or just stress, I find myself fingering the ring with my left hand, even tracing and retracing the cross cutout. It brings me peace, helps me focus, reminds me of what is of primary value to me. It is a piece of silver molded into a ring and bearing a cross. I do not worship it. I never thought of it as God. Its meaning is embedded in what it represents, not what it is.

For me, it is the same with Christian art, with a creche at Christmas, wth ashes on Ash Wednesday. with palms at Holy Week, with foot washing on Maundy Thursday, with an empty tomb on Easter morning. These physical items we use to recall Holy events are representational only. We do not worship them, for they are only implements that we associate with the real experience.

I am one among many who have said “I find God in nature.” It’s true. The breadth of creative design, the variety of creatures, of stone and mountain and seas and trees. In no other place do I feel as close to God as I feel out of doors. But nature is not God, is not the deity, anymore than my human-made cross ring is something to worship unto itself. Rather, in different ways, these phenomena point us to God, remind us of God, help us to focus on God. And I wouldn’t be without them.

It is very difficult for any human being to articulate the relationship between that which we worship, and that which only points us to that which we worship. Today, the church thanks John of Damascus for navigating these waters early and for insisting that we look beyond the tangible to what lies behind it.

Mtr Mary