Editor’s note: Throughout July, we’re hosting 31 Days with St. Ignatius, a month-long celebration of Ignatian spirituality. In addition to the calendar of Ignatian articles found here, posts on dotMagis this month will explore the theme of “Finding God in the Unexpected.”
My family had a few hours before our flight out of Reagan National Airport after my godson’s First Communion, so we decided to stop in D.C. and wander the National Gallery of Art. Looking at art has been a family activity we’ve enjoyed together ever since my now teen sons were infants reaching up at Calder mobiles. These boys are now over six feet tall, and my youngest is an imposing (but skinny and gentle) specimen at six foot, six inches.
As we entered a gallery, the docent watched my son walk in, her eyes followed him, and her mouth unintentionally fell open. “How old are you?” she asked, unable to restrain her shock.
“Fifteen,” he answered, a little embarrassed by the attention. The docent jumped back in an exaggerated response, which made us all laugh. My son quickly joined my husband, and the docent grilled me on what I’ve been feeding the man-child and other related topics.
I eventually joined my family as we looked at a large-scale painting of Daniel in the Lions’ Den by Peter Paul Rubens. The lions encircle Daniel while he frantically prays for safety. I feel like that sometimes in our world and our culture.
Moving to another gallery, I quickened my pace as I saw paintings by my favorite artist, Vincent van Gogh, inside. The same docent had since moved to that room and saw me. “Yes, there are Van Goghs in here,” she said as if she read my mind. “Some say he was…” She pantomimed the international sign for “crazy” by her temple.
“Maybe that’s why so many people love him,” I said. “He struggled so much but was able to create so much beauty.”
She nodded. “I don’t know much about art. I just got this job, but I understand feeling like you are a little cuckoo.” Her tone had changed. We were no longer two women making pleasantries. Something shifted. I kept eye contact with her, and she slowed down the rhythm of her words, as if to emphasize them. “Every day, I have to ask my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to help me through the day. I can’t do it without him.”
Her words pierced my soul. I don’t often hear people talk about Jesus outside of church anymore. I long for it. I want to talk about and listen to people talk about him all the time. This was not what I expected walking into the gallery and making small talk with a docent. To me, it was a sign of hope. God is moving in the midst of us, even when we do not see it. We are connected in the Spirit to others out there in the world.
How did the docent know that I loved Christ too? But looking at her, I knew. “Yes, me too,” I responded. “In him I move and breathe and find my meaning. I am lost without him.”
“You can say that again, sister.”
I wanted to hug her right there next to the Monets and Cézannes. Such a small moment and interaction, but an encouraging one, an answer to prayer really. We are not alone. God is here with us.
Image: Daniel in the Lions’ Den by Peter Paul Rubens, courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington
As we begin 31 Days with St. Ignatius, read Three Ways St. Ignatius Was a Leader by Gretchen Crowder. Then use the hashtag #31DayswithIgnatius on your favorite social media channels to share the ways you’ve been touched by St. Ignatius and the spiritual outlook that bears his name.