Art to Heart Prayer of Petition

Théodore Géricault: The Raft of The 'Medusa'

©2002 by Jeff Dugan

Have you ever been to an art museum, and become so overwhelmed by the profusion of paintings and sculptures and artists and periods and “-isms” that you just started to judge the works by how big they were?  If so, this is one that would impress you.  It’s enormous, measuring over 16 feet by 23 feet.  In fact, its size was one of the things that made it a sensation when it was unveiled in 1819.  You see, at the time, big canvases like this were supposed to be reserved for historical or religious paintings.  But because Géricault (pronounced “zherico,” – rhymes with “Jerico”) chose an event that had occurred only a few years before, the public saw the painting as neither historical nor religious. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean that God can’t use the painting to speak to us.

(If time is short, the above may be omitted)

The event depicted here is the aftermath of the 19^th century sinking of a ship called the Medusa.  From an original group of 149 on board, there were only 15 survivors after nearly two weeks at sea on this raft.  A later inquiry uncovered gruesome stories of murder, cannibalism, and other depravity during the 12 days adrift with no food and little hope of rescue.  Notice how Géricault portrays the twisted, rotting, wretched bodies to express the horror of their ordeal.

I think the Israelites must have felt the same kind of despair shown here, during their long enslavement in Egypt.  Certainly they endured similar hardships, with little hope of relief.  Even more compelling is the fact that the suffering of the Israelites stretched over countless generations, and carried with it the additional burden that even their God seemed to have abandoned them.

But not everyone on this raft is so degraded.  On the right, there is excitement and waving of shirts.  What is it that has resurrected these people from the depths of despair to energetic hopefulness? 

You can’t even see it here without enlarging the image, but in the museum, you can see far, far off, on the horizon, the tiny triangle of a ship’s sails.  This is the ship that would eventually save the poor souls still clinging to life on the raft.

Can you join in the celebration of the miracle here?  It’s a picture of salvation blasting apart all the objective evidence that denies it could ever happen.  It’s a picture of Heather Mercer and Dayna Curry, miraculously snatched from the clutches of the Taliban.  It’s one of nine coal miners trapped underground and in up to his neck in cold water, who anguishes because he forgot to kiss his wife goodbye, and whose heart leaps as a drill suddenly breaks through the roof of the tunnel he thought would be his grave.

But this huge canvas tells a much bigger story than any single miraculous rescue.  In this enormous painting the tiny ship on the horizon is the voice of God when He says to Israel and to all mankind, “I have heard My people cry.”

Prayer:

 Lord, hear our cry:

(Here the worship leader should insert a prayer or litany of petitions appropriate to the congregation and the occasion)

 Lord, hear our cry!

 Amen.