The Church has traditionally been a patron of the arts, because the arts have the capacity to lift one's mind and heart to God. Art is not meant to reinforce our presuppositions about ourselves and our God, but to challenge those presuppositions, and to bring us into deeper communion with God. The work of John Collier (b. 1948), a sculptor and painter who grew up in the Dallas area, like that of so many great artists, asks us to reconceive our understanding of the mystery of God.
Our Lady of the Lake Catholic Church features a number of important pieces by Collier. His work has been exhibited at various museums and galleries in New York, in the Smithsonian Institution’s Traveling Art Exhibition, and at the Museum of Biblical Art in Dallas, as well as at many other churches and religious institutions. He is probably best known for his four sculptures, representing the patron saints of police officers, firefighters, and workers, along with St. Mary Magdalene, at the Catholic Memorial at Ground Zero in New York.
Collier's depiction of Mary and Jesus, located near the entrance of the church at the baptistery, envisions Mary as a young mother, sitting on a broken stool with her hair pulled back, showing that she experiences the normal messiness of life which constitutes the fullness of the human condition. Her humility is seen in her her artless posture, and in her bare feet. While Jesus is leaning away from his mother, she is not pulling Him back. Both Mother and Child are looking outward, anticipating the fulness of the Reign of God, when God will "cast down the mighty from their thrones, and lift up the lowly," (see Luke 1:52). That Jesus is giving a blessing at such a young age identifies Him as the Son of God, who comes that we might have life and have it to the full (see John 10:10).
Artists in every age have typically portrayed the Virgin Mary in the clothing of their contemporaries. The polychrome sculpture to the left, for instance, from the Church of Saint Jean l'Évangéliste in Liège, Belgium, depicts Mary dressed in the garb of a mediaeval Flemish matron, since that is when and where this particular piece of work was sculpted. Images like this one, depicting the Madonna who presents the Child Jesus to the world, are known as the Sedes Sapientiae, or the "Seat of Wisdom," since Jesus, the Wisdom of God (see 1 Corinthinan 1:24) is seated on the lap of His Mother. Virtually every major church, abbey, or priory built during the Middle Ages in France and Spain houses some version of the Sedes Sapientiae.
Collier's work, though decidedly modern, draws upon this long iconographic tradition. You are invited to contemplate this image as a way of entering into communion with the Lord, who, in the words of Saint Paul, "became for us the wisdom of God" (1 Corinthians 1:30).
Collier's depiction of the Return of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32), located in the Chapel of Reconciliation, is a poignant reminder of God's love for us. Collier has depicted the moment when the son, exhausted and hungry after living a life of dissipation far from home, has resolved to return to his father, even if he must henceforth live as one of his father's servants (Luke 15:17-19). Meanwhile, the father has been anxiously scanning the horizon for some sign of his son's return. When he sees him, still at a distance, "He ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him" (Luke 15:20).
The scene, as Collier has imagined it, shows father and son falling into each other's arms. The stooped posture of the father exhibits his relief at his son's return, and the stooped posture of the son, who is ready to fall to his knees in supplication, shows his sorrow at ever having left. Here, as in his depiction of the Madonna and Child, Collier is inspired by the work of artists who have gone before him, notably Rembrandt, whose depiction of the same scene from Luke's gospel, likewise portrays the relieved father stooping over to embrace a penitent son.
The story of the Prodigal Son's return to his father is meant to remind us that God is always ready to receive the sinner, no matter how far we have strayed, or how long we have been alienated. Moreover, our return to God is a restoration to our former status. Just as the Prodigal Son is welcomed back to the family which he had forsaken, so we are welcomed back by the Father. "I tell you, there will be rejoicing among the angels of God over one sinner who repents" (Luke 15:10).
Honoring the saints of the New World, this triptych, located on the west side of the church, centers on Our Lady of Guadalupe, Patroness of the Americas. La Morenita is flanked by some of the prominent saints who ministered in the Americas. John Neumann, the first American bishop to be canonized and the founder of the first diocesan Catholic school system, and Peter Claver, who ministered to slaves on cargo ships landing in Cartagena in what is now Colombia, are in the large panels to the right and to the left of the central panel. On one side of Mary is the Dominican brother, Martín de Porres, traditionally painted with a small animal – in this case, a cat, because of his belief that even the lowliest creatures are loved by God, accompanied by Anthony Mary Claret, known for his missionary work in Cuba. On the other side of Mary stand Elizabeth Ann Seton, the first native-born American to be canonized, and Mother Frances Cabrini, who gazes out at the viewers, welcoming us into the Communion of Saints.
Sanctity knows no limitations. All followers of Jesus are called to be saints. A saint can be male or female; a saint can be rich or poor; a saint can come from the Northern Hemisphere or the Southern, from the East or the West. A saint can journey to the furthest ends of the earth, or live and die in the same village in which he or she was born. A saint can speak English or Spanish, Kiswahili or Mandarin, Nahuatl, Quechua, or any other language. What makes someone a saint is the power of God operating in the concrete circumstances of that individual's life, moving him or her to respond to the grace of God with joy, with energy, and with conviction. The Second Vatican Council taught that "all Christians in any state or walk of life are called to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of love, and by this holiness a more human manner of life is fostered also in earthly society" (Lumen Gentium, 40).
As you contemplate these saints – their joy, their energy, and their conviction – ask yourself how you can respond to the power of God operating in the concrete circumstances of your life. How will your holy way of life foster a more human manner of life in society?
Collier has depicted the Crucifixion as though it is taking place place on the flat, featureless expanse of the North Texas prairie. The cedars which dot the landscape as Collier has painted it are reminiscent of the many cedars which can be found in Rockwall County. The vast blue sky resembles the celebrated skies of North Texas which can glow with a light that seems supernatural. To situate the Crucifixion as though it were taking place in North Texas is to remind the viewer that the Paschal Mystery of Jesus' death and resurrection is not just an event which took place over 2000 years ago outside the city walls of Jerusalem, but one that resonates across every age and every culture.
Collier's depiction of the Crucifixion incorporates elements both from the Torah and the Prophets, as well as from the Gospels, particularly the Gospel of John. The dead serpent on the ground in front of the cross is a reference to Genesis 3:15, where God punishes the serpent for having tempted Adam and Eve: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers. He will strike at your head, while you strike at his heel." Abraham and Isaac are shown with the ram who replaced Isaac as a sacrifice (see Genesis 22:1-14). The ram is wearing a crown of thorns, foreshadowing the sacrifice of Christ, and signifying Jesus' identity as the Lamb of God (see John 1:29, 36). The cross itself is a doorpost with a hinge, pointing to the connection between the Passover and the Paschal Mystery.
In the distant background, Collier has placed the figure of Isaiah the prophet, whose oracles were compiled between 750 and 500 years before the life and ministry of Jesus, and whose four Suffering Servant Songs feature prominently in the liturgies of Lent and Holy Week. The tree next to the cross is the tree of life, but the tree appears dead, showing how earthly life was poisoned by original sin. On the right side of the tree of life, however, Collier has depicted faint signs of blossoming, signifying that the suffering and death of Jesus brings life to the world. As St. Paul puts it, "just as through transgression condemnation came upon all, so through one righteous act aquittal and life came to all" (Romans 5:18).
Maxmillian Kolbe, the Franciscan friar who gave his life in place of a stranger’s in a Nazi concentration camp, is a post-crucifixion witness, along with Therese of Lisieux and Francis of Assisi. As in so many artistic depictions of the Crucifixion, Collier has included the Mother of God, the Beloved Disciple, and Mary Magdalene, shown in her traditional pose embracing the foot of the cross. An angel hovers above the scene on the left, foreshadowing the neaniskos who will announce to Mary Magdalene and to the other women that Jesus has been raised from the dead (see Mark 16:5-7).