Momma,

I chose to thank you with this painting because I know it’s something that you’d hate at first. I can hear you now, “There is no way that could mean anything. That’s a line. Seriously.” And you’d be right, as always. It is a line. But it’s not just any line, because it’s one of Barnett Newman’s emblematic zip paintings and it happens to be titled, First Station. 

After years of you teaching me, it’s my turn to teach you a little something. 

Newman created a series of fourteen paintings that represented the Fourteen Stations of the Cross. The Stations of the Cross outline the horrific events of Jesus’ last day on Earth. Historically, artistic depictions of the stations were meant to reanimate the trauma of His crucifixion so that they become newly raw and searingly real regardless of the viewer’s familiarity with art or even the church. 

As we’ve grown together, I’ve seen you step away from your Southern Baptist roots in favor of a faith still traditional in its beliefs yet more modern in its applications. I think that’s exactly what Newman was trying to get at with these paintings. Newman himself said, “We do not need the obsolete props of an outmoded and antiquated legend.” Instead he insisted that modern artists and believers ought to make cathedrals “out of ourselves, out of our own feelings.” 

Newman’s abstract development of the Stations of the Cross recognizes the evils of idolatry. It was never his intention for his viewers to see a literal representation of Christ that could then be worshiped. He encouraged his viewers to draw their own conclusions and make their own emotional connections unhindered by the blatant portrayals of violence or sorrow so often seen in renderings of the crucifixion.

Newman’s work resisted idle religious generalization in favor of the visceral and instinctual. The austerity of Newman’s series accomplishes just that. The violent zips on the canvas reflected the woundedness and brokenness of Jesus’ physical body. His work reminds me of the way we can know something is there without fully being able to describe it. To me, that’s what faith is. That’s what you’ve taught me faith is. 

So. I hope that after that explanation, you understand why I love this painting. I hope you love it too. I encourage you to look at all of these painting in succession. I encourage you to momentarily trade your world of logic and rationality for a world of the vague and emotional. 

Thank you for your faith in Christ and your faith in me. I love you.