At this morning's service at St. John's Episcopal Church in Ashfield, Massachusetts, my Icon of St. Clement of Rome was blessed by the Rev. Eliot Moss. Friday (Nov 23) was the Feast Day of St. Clement, so I am particularly content with how this has worked out, even though I know every imperfection in the Icon.
In many respects, today marks the culmination of a Tale of Three Churches.
The tale begins with the Church in which I was raised. St. Clement's Episcopal Church, "The Fisherman's Church," in Baldwin Harbor NY. It is the place where I began my Christian formation as a young child. It no longer exists as an episcopal church, but its seaside location left a forever-image - an Icon - in my soul.
The Second church would have to be St. Clement's Episcopal Church in Philadelphia. An Anglo-catholic church, their website contains an account of the legends associated with St. Clement. The rector mailed me palms held by the celebrant on Palm Sunday, which I burned and mixed the ashes with the pigments in the creation of the Icon. http://www.saintclementsphiladelphia.org/
And, finally, my home church of St, John's (top picture). At vicar Moss's suggestion, the Icon was set on the alter today and blessed using the Episcopal Occasional Service for such an event. We were able to discuss St. Clement's life at the coffee hour afterwards.
Christ is the icon of the invisible God; all things were created through him and for him.
The Word became flesh:
And dwelt among us.
Let us pray (Silence)
Almighty God, whose Son our Savior manifested your glory in his flesh, and sanctified the outward and visible as a means to perceive realities unseen: Accept, we pray, this representation of Saint Clement of Rome; and grant that as your people look upon it, their hearts may be drawn to things which can be seen only by the eye of faith; through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.
So be it.
Saint Clement Carol
1 It was about November-tide
A long, long time ago,
When good S. Clement testified
The faith that now we know.
Right boldly then, he said his say,
Before a furious king;
And therefore on S. Clement’s Day
We go a-Clementing.
2 Work in the mines they gave him then,
To try the brave old saint:
And there two thousand Christian men
With thirst were like to faint.
He prayed a prayer, and out of clay
He made the waters spring,
And therefore on S. Clement’s Day
We go a-Clementing.
3 An anchor ‘round his neck, they tied,
And cast him in the sea;
And bravely as he lived he died,
And gallantly went free.
He rests a many miles away,
Yet here his name we sing,
As all upon S. Clement’s Day
We go a-Clementing.
4 Our fathers kept it long ago,
And their request we make
Good Christians, one small mite bestow,
For sweet S. Clement’s sake:
And make this feast as glad and gay
As if it came in spring,
When all upon S. Clement’s Day
We go a-Clementing.
An iconographer's prayer reads,
"Teach me . . . to imagine the work without despair if it should turn out differently..."
It continues, "keep me from achieving perfection, for surely I would be lost in arrogance."
Well, surely that is not a problem.
I was impatient, I moved too quickly in the middle of the work, and I lost some of the potential beauty. My paint was too thick at times, and I lost some of the earlier color gradients in the ocean and on his robes...but overall I am content.
I set out to paint an Icon of St. Clement that was true to his person, and I am happy with the final image. It's not exactly what I had envisioned - nor is it as good as I think it can be - but it is an effort through which I learned much ~ more about myself, incidentally, than about the Saint.
I rushed, and it wasn't good. In my desire & excitement to finish, I moved too fast. The Icon grew sloppy. Areas I had completed looked awful because I overdid it. I had painted over areas before the first layer was dry, and the colors bled. And so, I had to revisit some areas.
The Pallium (Clement's bishop's stole) was a mess. I carefully painted over the errors, and I will add the anchors back on as a last touch. I used too much white on his robes, so I needed to paint some of them over and reapply lighter layers. And the best part was, I didn't get annoyed or mad at myself. It was just a time of learning that I needed to slow down, turn my attention to tiny details, and only paint a little bit in a sitting.
I wrecked the ocean water, too. Having completed it, I couldnt stop myself from applying one more layer, and it seriously degraded the look...and so, I had to re-paint all the white lines in the ocean waves.
I settled on the Scroll: "Seek Peace and Follow After it," from 1 Clement 22:5, was more than appropriate. It was a lesson I myself needed to learn as I grappled with the fact that I am not a particularly good painter, and have no reason to get annoyed at myself for mistakes. I simply need to learn from them, and correct myself as I am able.
Ironically, Clement wrote his first letter to Corinth because a group of young, impetuous hotheads had replaced the 'old guard' in the Corinthian church through some political maneuvering. In their haste to get things done 'their way,' they overthrew the established (and wiser) order. In many ways, my own painting parallels their impatience: skipping steps, moving too fast, not realizing the mess I was making. Clement advised the church members to 'seek peace, and follow after it' rather than create chaos.
Yes, my painting of this Icon is a living, contemporary example of the Corinthian 'problem,' and Clement's gentle admonishment.
I am recommitted to patience. I painted the outside border today, and am considering how I want to approach the inside border, in which I had planned to mimic Roman mosaics from the 1st Century. But that will be for another day. No need to do it all tonight....
