Contemplative Comics day 54 "CHICKEN"
It was that serious.
It was that serious.
The beginning of Davy’s Story…
Inktober day 2.
I can’t believe there has been 51 of these. It never occurred to me how many of these I have made until I began to scan, edit, and post them all two years later.
There is an online tradition that lots of artists participate in every year called Inktober. Essentially, you intentionally make the art that you make every day for the month of October, post it, and use the hashtag Inktober. It is mostly a challenge to grow your skills and just draw every day.
I have done it several times, usually just making sketches. In 2018, I was already drawing every day. I didn’t want to stop my comic, but I didn’t have the time to make the comic and an additional sketch. So I adapted my comic to fit Inktober.
Jake Parker, the cartoonist who started the practice, releases a prompt list every year that you can follow. I decided to make each comic focus on the daily prompt.
So all of these comics are themed around the daily prompts for 2018:
The Prayer of St. Francis 4/4
(or perhaps more appropriately titled, the Peacemakers Prayer).
The Prayer of St. Francis 3/4
The Prayer of St. Francis 2/4
My main reason for making this series of comics was as a means of practicing Contemplation + Action. There was so much going on. A horrible president. Families imprisoned and separated at the border. Open racism in the streets. Communities devastated by hurricanes.
One day, my friend and I ate lunch at the homeless shelter. We were talking around the picnic tables. An aggravated couple were sitting under the tree while their daughter played. A daughter the same size as Jules. She was so beautiful and full of energy. Living at the homeless shelter with her parents.
I went back to my office at the church. I was supposed to work on getting material ready for the worship band for the coming Sunday morning service. But everything felt so small.
I sat at my desk and wept.
I wanted my job at the church to be focused on these issues. Not music or bible studies for kids. I was beginning to suspect that was never going to happen.
This was my attempt at working these things out in prayer.
The Prayer of St. Francis 1/4
I would not go back to these days for any amount of money.
That is all.
Seeing these comics about my sweet baby girl, who is now twice as tall and sings portions of Hamilton, is wonderful and heartbreaking.
I am so happy these comics exist.
I miss our Monday night small group.
Sometimes I am swept away by the miracle that is the African American Church and denominations like the AME.
Here is a people taken from their homelands, forced to live together, learning new languages, adapting their collective cultures, forced into hard lives of labor, regarded as property, sold off and separated from the new communities they forged, and beaten. Under constant supervision and suspicion.
Yet, they are able to hear and receive the Gospel. For many of them, it becomes a means of spiritual and physical freedom. The soul cannot be put in chains. Cannot be bought and sold at the whims of an earthly master.
The Gospel becomes a means of education. Black men and women in the North convert and argue for their freedom. After all, how can they be brothers and sisters in Christ while being kept in chains? Many slave masters are converted by their own slaves and practice gradual manumission of their slaves.
In the South, a truncated gospel is presented to enslaved men and women. A false gospel that emphasizes the role of the master as part of God’s design. They are taught that they must be subservient to the master’s needs in order to obey God. To disobey is sin. To escape is sin. To help someone escape is sin.
The master becomes God-like.
It is a false Gospel.
Yet, with these bits and pieces of the scriptures, many of the men and women in bondage meet in secret to read, discuss, and preach amongst themselves. They find the love of Jesus. They find the justice of God. They find their place in the story of God’s kingdom movement on the earth.
The fact that they did not outright despise this slaveholder religion forced upon them (many did) is a miracle and a true testament to the transformative power of the Gospel.
The light shines in the darkness. The darkness will never overcome it.
Those poor bird watchers will never forget our little girl.
This comic did not age well.
IF I ever pursue a doctorate (I will probably think about it in my 40s), I am going to make this the focus of my work. What a bunch of courageous men and women! Scholarship on the American Peace Movement has become less prominent since the end of the Cold War.
I suspect we might have a greater need to remember in the days ahead.
The reason the history stuff gets so dramatic here is I was trying to finish my last two classes. I had only taken one at a time up to this point. So I was writing about 50 pages worth of material.
Our next child was due in November, and our church had begun a pretty intense new mission to move into a bigger worship space. It was a complicated plan where we would rent for a year and then attempt to buy the whole complex. Then, use the other space in the area to let small businesses open up.
So my goal was to finish these classes and put grad school behind me so I could just be with my family and focus on our new church mission.
It all means I was doing a LOT of stuff, and I wasn’t doing much of it very well. For the first time in my life, I began to experience anxiety. But I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time.
I tried to play it all off with jokes like this. At least it was funny.
One thing I will ALWAYS be fascinated by is this infinite, cosmic, Creator who sustains the whole of reality (infinite realities?) while we lead lives full of trying to catch up on lesson plans, writing research papers, singing songs, changing diapers, wondering how your crush feels about you, anticipating a new comic from your favorite artist, arguing over the scriptures, binge watching our favorite show, laughing at bad dad jokes, wondering if we will be able to pay our bills on time, and trying to make sense of pain in the world.
PRAISE GOD FROM WHOM ALL BLESSINGS FLOW.
Even though I haven’t been there since 2014, I miss my Slovene friends more and more all the time. It is always wonderful when some of them are able to visit.