Rembrandt Is in the Wind: Learning to Love Art through the Eyes of Faith

by Russ Ramsey

for Vincent, it wasn’t the value of his collection that plagued him; it was the question of whether or not his time on this earth would produce beauty that would transcend his days. Would anyone ever see anything of the fire that burned within him except for the wisps of smoke?

He was looking for something he would never find in this life, not because he died young, but because the glory, love, beauty, and peace he hungered for were not of this world.

Art has always been a means of shaping hearts and minds.

We are shaped by those who come before us, by those who invest in us, by those who teach us skills, by those who hand down convictions, and by those who pour love into us when we are young.

As a man of faith, Henry believed persuading one race to regard another with equity and love was a theological endeavor, one which required a biblical view of personhood—that all people are made in the image of God and therefore share an inherent dignity and worth that transcends any human construct.

Mary’s boy would grow to reign over the people of God as their Savior and King. The God who promised David so many years before that his royal line would see no end44 would keep that ancient covenant by bringing an heir to Israel’s throne through this young woman.

It is the potential of the story, not the absence of one, that draws us to Hopper’s work because as human beings, if there’s one thing we know instinctively, it’s that there must be a story. Everything has a story. Everyone has a story. And every story is, in some way, sacred.

There is discord between the world we have and the one we were made for.

God knows the distance they feel, and he doesn’t want it either. The great irony here is that the God they believed abandoned them had actually taken on flesh and dwelt among them for the purpose of eliminating this distance forever. He doesn’t just see our loneliness; he does something about it.

Loneliness awakens in us a passionate protest against isolation.

As much as Hopper’s works are an expression of loneliness, they are also a protest against it.

What is certain is that Lily developed into a warmhearted person with a gift of love and empathy that seemed to know no bounds.

Hardship often softens the heart.

When she came to believe that her gifts were not her own, she said the rudder of her life was set for the purposes of God.

Lilias made up her mind—she would give herself to serving the poor, and in whatever role her art played, she would use her creative instinct and imagination to create places where the downtrodden would find respect, support, and, if God allowed, Christ himself.

She instinctively knew there was such a thing as glory and that we were made for it, to be part of it. Michelangelo and Lilias both sought that glory by trying to make from stone hearts of flesh.

Service to the Lord is never wasted, even if people don’t see it. God sees it and uses it. This wasn’t just Lilias’s hope; it was her confidence.

She saw beauty everywhere. To read her journals and see her sketches and paintings is to see the overflow of a heart enamored with the world she inhabited.

Even in the toughest conditions, she marveled at the lilies that grew from the desert floor and saw the kindness and grace of God in every petal. The natural beauty happening around her reminded her that the Lord was at work.

Learn to contribute beauty to this world—modest though your part may be. It’s okay to be a slow learner. Just don’t bow out of the work of beautifying the gardens you tend. The world benefits from your voice, your touch, your vision.