There I Am

A few weeks ago, I ate lunch under a large framed print of Carl Bloch's Sermon on the Mount painting. It's a very familiar piece to me since a lot of Carl Bloch's artwork is displayed in LDS churches and temples. It's also on the cover of the Gospel Art book.

I remember reading in a Dan Brown novel (I find them interesting - don't make fun of me) that in art, the hand pointing up, as it is in this painting, is a symbol of enlightenment, knowledge, or understanding. Dan Brown used the example of Horatio Greenough's sculpture of George Washington, but I immediately thought of the image of the Savior teaching on the Mount. 

As I sat under the painting enjoying my sandwich, I started looking at each of the people in the painting, wondering which one is me.

In truth, I see a little bit of myself in all of them. 

Sometimes I am this woman hiding my face and wallowing in my doubts, fears, insecurities, and weaknesses. 

Sometimes I'm this guy, sitting with my back toward the Savior but still listening over my shoulder just in case He says something I like. I kind of look at this man as the one with the FOMO. He's there just in case it ends up being good, but he's not "all in." 

Sometimes I'm this man in the background. I'm there, but I'm not listening all the way. I'm thinking about something else or leaning too far into my own intellect.

Other times, I'm one of these people whispering in the shadows. I'm listening but with the intent to gossip or scrutinize.

And then there's this guy. He's listening, but his body language suggests that there is part of him that is closed off from what he's hearing. It's like he's saying, "This is nice, but I'm not ready to give up this or that to follow you." He's listening, but he wants to take what he hears and process it on his own and then decide if it's what he wants. Sometimes I am him.

Sometimes I'm this man - listening intently but worried that I might be reproved. Ultimately, I'm on board with what the Savior says, but I'm on the edge of my seat because I don't want to feel chastened. I listen with equal parts hope and nerves.

Sometimes I am this person - wanting to be there to hear the message but lingering back just a little bit in case I'm not worthy. I want to be with the Savior, but I don't have the confidence to let Him see me up close.

Sometimes I am this child - innocently distracted by a butterfly (read more about Bloch's use of children in his paintings here - it will give you a fun, new way to look at his work).

Fortunately, despite all my other personal connections with this painting, I also see myself in this man - giving the Savior his full attention and getting as comfortable as possible because he's in it for the long haul. Yes, that is me, too. I hope to be this man more than I am anyone else in the scene.