Artist? Yes. But My Favorite Ninja Turtle was Donatello.

As the holidays fall ever further away in the rear-view mirror, the winter months increase their icy grip on us.  And what better way to warm yourself than to curl up with a good book and lose yourself in the imagination of a gifted writer’s prose and plots and characters? Over the last few years I’ve become a voracious reader with an appetite for more and more books.  Just before Christmas, I found myself empty of new books with which to satisfy my craving.  I resigned myself to the hope that some new books would find their way to me on Christmas morning, which they did.  But, in the meantime, I grabbed an old book off the shelf to grant some temporary relief.  Now here we are a month later and I’m still engrossed with this old book while the new ones patiently wait their turn.  Strangely enough I never would’ve guessed that the book to unexpectedly hold my attention for so many weeks would be a book about the works of the Renaissance artist, Michelangelo.

The works produced by this man are indescribably amazing.  Whether as a sculptor or a painter, the trail of artistry he left as a legacy continues to inspire people centuries after his death.  To see the detail in his sculpture of David and in the Pieta (the grieving Mary holding the lifeless body of Jesus following the crucifixion) brings the Bible vividly to life for even the most casual observer.  And the intricacy and the painstaking dedication of the Sistine Chapel’s portrayal of the Last Judgement, the Creation, the Great Flood, the Prophets, the Ancestors of Christ and the Fall of Adam and Eve are humbling and a lasting tribute to the gifts that God gives each of us to share with the world.

One of Michelangelo’s most-admired qualities among fellow artists is something known as “terribilita.” It has been translated in many ways, but my favorite likens it to a sense of awe-inspiring grandeur.  Sounds like something all artists (writers, painters, musicians, sculptors, poets, actors, craftsmen) should aspire to epitomize. And while it’s difficult to imagine an artist on a far grander scale than Michelangelo, an artist who embodies “terribilita” in every piece of art he or she creates, that is exactly what we have in God.  What we have in Jesus.  And what we have inside each of us in the Holy Spirit.  Creation itself as told to us in Genesis is as grandiose and awesome as it gets.  Living a perfect life according to God’s will as Jesus did is beauty.  Enduring His Passion for all of us was “terribilita.”  When a new life enters the world we celebrate one more piece of God’s craftsmanship.  And when a life leaves this existence and enters into Paradise, we celebrate the soulful artistry of God’s handiwork.  As this winter slowly plods along, use those snowy days and cold nights to practice your appreciation for God’s artistry.  After all, every snowfall is His Pieta.  Every child’s laugh is His Sistine Chapel.  Every smile is His Mona Lisa.  Every act of kindness and compassion is His Romeo and Juliet.  And every moment of your life is but another verse in His unending epic poem of Creation.    Amen.