The Mississippi
News
reports out of Kenya indicated that 10,000 people have been left homeless by
flooding from the Sabaki River. Too much water in the
wrong place and at the wrong time has been the source of devastation throughout
history.
In 1927, the Mississippi River broke through 145 levees, flooding more
land than the entire state of West Virginia.
Herbert Hoover, then Secretary of Commerce, called the flood “the greatest
peacetime disaster in the history of the United States.” John Steuart Curry grew up in the Midwest, and witnessed the awesome
power of natural disasters. Painting what he saw, 
he
produced The Mississippi in 1935.
What
is the worldview of The Mississippi?
Even as it leaves some questions unanswered, this painting affirms a biblical
worldview of creation, fall, and redemption.
You may question why that is so
remarkable, but consider the time period in which Curry painted. During the
first half of the 20th century, abstract art in its’ many forms was all the
rage in the arts. Curry, as a
participant of the Regionalist movement in American painting, rejected
modernist art theories in favor of a new form of realism. While not a perfect
theory of art, regionalism at least marked a return to creating a recognizable
subject. A bowl of fruit looked like a bowl of fruit, not a jumble of
triangles, squares and squiggles.
The Mississippi depicts real people – a
father, mother, children – expressing the emotions of the moment. The imago dei, the
image of God, is found in their depiction. Authentic human dignity is on
display. Humanity has not been abstracted away into nothingness.
Having
acknowledged the reality of creation, The
Mississippi goes further to tell us that something has gone terribly wrong.
We see a battle between man and nature, and nature appears to be winning. Will the family drown? If not, what will
become of them after the flood subsides? Why is there such pain and sorrow?
It
is at this very point that modern man finds no answer to the ultimate questions
of life.
When a meteorologist takes the place
of a theologian as the voice of truth about reality, who can explain the fury
of the flood? Living in the shadow of
the Enlightenment, we throw everything under the microscope, looking for an
answer that science cannot give.
Writing
about the rise of secular naturalism, Christian scholar Hans Rookmaaker wrote, “Science had been the way to acquire
insight into the structure of reality, into the way this world is built, to
find out the greatness of God’s creation. But now it was elevated by the
rationalist into the tool to know all truth, the foundation of all knowledge.
But the world was no longer open to a transcendent God. It had become a closed
box, and man was caught in that box.”
As
Christians, are we to remain conformed to the thinking of the world in this
area? I am not suggesting that we can know God’s specific purposes for
particular weather events. However, when our frightened children curl up in our
arms during a thunderstorm, do words about God ever fall from our lips? Are we
content explaining meteorology apart from doxology?
The Mississippi proclaims the reality of
a broken creation. The proper beauty and function of water becomes an
impersonal force of destruction. All nature feels the pain – both vegetation
and animal life are crushed without mercy. With great artistry, Curry painted
the emotions of the moment onto the canvas.
Dark grays and blues swirl around in violent commotion. You can feel the
fear of the family. This is no utopian view of the cosmos, living in denial of
the curse of the fall. Death stands close at hand, hoping to pull the figures
into the darkness of the waters.
But
this is not the end of the story. If we ‘read’ the painting from left to right,
we come to the end of the sentence, and what do we see? What are we asked to consider? Curry shows us
that we are not alone in the box, for the father lifts up hands in prayer to
God. The Lord who “sits enthroned over the flood” (Job 27:20) receives a plea for deliverance. Look at the courage and
confidence expressed on the face of the man. His children look up to him
looking up to God. His wife accompanies him in prayer, even as she cradles an
infant in her arms. Will God save the family? We are not told, and in some
sense, that is not the most important question.
Responding
to the December 2004 tsunami, Pastor John Piper gave his understanding of the
tragedy on National Public Radio. He said that in light of God’s holiness, we
sinners should be amazed that we too “weren’t under the wave.” He said, “We put
God on trial every time something big happens. I think that repentance means we
stop making God a whipping boy - blaming him for every pain, and not praising
him for every pleasure.”
Make
no mistake, whether the family survives or not, a worse fate than drowning
awaits those who sit high and dry, safe and secure in their unbelief. Perhaps
the best thing that ever happened to this family is their getting caught up in
this great flood. Maybe this was the very event that brought the children to
think about the frailty of life and the need of a God who saves.
We
should listen to this message. As the hymn of Isaac Watts says, “There’s not
a plant or flower below but makes your glories known; and clouds arise and
tempests blow by order from your throne.” By listening to the testimony of
scripture and the message of The Mississippi,
allow your heart to be full of doxology when you think about meteorology.
W. Scott Lamb is a pastor with Providence Baptist
Church in South St. Louis County, MO. He and his wife Pearl enjoy the challenges
and pleasures of raising their four sons. Feel free to contact Scott at www.pbcstlouis.com.
