Dear Art Dealers, 

From 1870 to 1871, impressionist painter Claude Monet lived in London, where he had arrived from Paris in self-imposed exile to avoid conscription in the Franco-Prussian War. That first exposure to London’s smoggy air inspired the young artist, who was fascinated by what the moisture and pollution did to the refraction of light. After returning to Paris, Monet was determined to revisit London, which he did many times over the subsequent decades.

Among his favorite subjects for painting were the Parliament buildings along the River Thames capturing the various angles of light and fog. Throughout his career, Monet captured those elements over 100 times. Same objects over and over, but very different paintings.

In 1904, Monet curated an exhibition of 37 of his Thames paintings in Paris. He personally constructed the frames to be identical and obsessively arranged the order and lighting for each painting, much to the frustration of gallery owner Paul Durand-Ruel, who had to delay the opening because Monet was continually fussing over the exhibit’s details. Finally opening months late, the show was a magnificent success, with every painting selling to collectors from all over Europe and the United States, and Monet never painted London again. What’s more, the collection of Monet’s London paintings was never again assembled as Monet intended—dozens of interpretations of the same objects differing only slightly in angle and perception but varying significantly in how the diffused light played against the water and the building’s silhouettes.

As a Presbyterian minister, I am often asked about our denomination’s distinctives. How are we different from Methodists, Lutherans, Episcopalians, Pentecostals, Orthodox, Roman Catholics? In my answer, I attempt to be emphatic about our shared expression of the same Christian faith, finding our differences in historical context, social origin and intellectual inquiry, but when I heard of Monet’s 1904 exhibit, I think I found the perfect metaphor.

Every one of Monet’s paintings had as its backdrop the same objects, but at the same time, every painting was unique. Their similarities and differences were best highlighted in that first and only curation; but as they were scattered far and wide across the Western world, each new owner believed to possess Monet’s singular vision of London. Each new owner was correct in believing they had an example of Monet’s perception, but not one collector possessed the fullness of the artist’s vision. To argue the superiority of one canvas over another was a matter of subjective taste or preference, not an absolute valuation of good or bad, right or wrong. Some examples were displayed in galleries, influencing thousands of visitors who believed they knew Monet’s eye; others were in private collections, seen only by a handful who also thought they had captured Monet’s genius. All of them were correct to an extent; none of them knew the full variety of impressions.

I believe denominations are like that, each bringing a unique combination of light, angle, fog and pollution to the subject matter being displayed. It’s important to remember there are other depictions—more portraits in the grand unassembled gallery of our traditions. Yet it’s also important to remember that none of our depictions is anything more than distant interpretations of an unseen reality. 

Behind Monet’s paintings were real constructed buildings and a genuine flowing river; the painting is not the thing itself any more than our dogma and traditions are absolute objects. They are interpretations, discernments, concepts overlayed on God’s creation through history and revelation. When we become too possessive, too absolute about our little paintings, too defensive about how we have been taught to see, perhaps we should venture out to other galleries and witness the vision of others.

Curating our own little gallery of tradition, I remain,

With Love,
Jonathan Krogh
Your Pastor