The Theology of the Distorted Garden

I have had the privilege of visiting many art museums and seeing up close works by renowned painters such as Monet, Van Gogh, Leonardo da Vinci and Picasso. Although I am not an expert in the field, I love to contemplate works that reflect the soul and the artist's gaze. Recently, when visiting a museum in Philadelphia, I came across unique paintings by Renoir. As someone with a contemplative temperament, and even with my limited experience, I could feel that the trademark of this impressionist painter was also contemplation: his canvases are subtle reflections of everyday life, showing moments of deep calm.

While walking, later, through the outside of a beautiful garden, I saw the opportunity to portray my own reality as if it were a painting. The question that came to my mind was:

"If Renoir were here, what kind of reality would he paint today?"

However, when I looked at the photo I took, I was confronted with a melancholic reality. If I had to give this image a name, it would be "Distraction". And it was exactly from there that God began to talk to me.

The first biblical passage that flooded my thoughts when observing the flowers was: "All humanity is like grass, and all its glory, like the flower of the grass; the grass dries up, and its flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever." (1Pe 1:24-25). Just like this beautiful garden, humanity is stunning, but fleeting. The only unwavering constant that does not perish is the Word of the Lord. This scenario reminds us, at all times, of our own brevity.

The great irony of our days is that we live running after a way to leave a mark on the world, trying to ignore our own smallness, while we waste the present. Look carefully at the photo. The only person present in it is not contemplating the sky, admiring the flowers or feeling the wind. Sitting on a bench that looks like an explicit invitation to worship God - after all, Scripture says that the heavens and all creation manifest His glory -, man hides behind a screen.

If Renoir were painting this scene, he would certainly emphasize the vibrant colors of the vegetation, the simple atmosphere and the lonely figure that represents humanity.

But, as we are in the 21st century, photography reveals an extra and painful layer of reality: we are often physically present, while our mind wanders through digital territories. My husband (the model in the photo) was not really distracted; he took the cell phone at my request, because | intentionally wanted to record the spirit of our time. We live exhausted and often cry out asking where God is, but we forget where to look for the answer.

God is everywhere. Psalm 139 reminds us that even if we tried to escape from His Spirit, we would not succeed. Therefore, this image works as an invitation. The garden invites us to return to the beginning of everything, to Eden, making us question: "What did God create me for?". The distorted and reflective forms on the wall in the background call us to consider the distortion that sin causes on the harmony of creation. And the bench? The bench is a sacred invitation to a pause. A command to sit, breathe and contemplate. God wants to speak to us, if we only look at the sky to recognize His greatness and sovereignty.

If I had to summarize the story behind this record, I would say:

"God planted a garden around him... but he preferred to check the notifications."

Our earthly life is short. We won't always have a comfortable bench in the middle of a garden to talk to the Creator. But, certainly, there will be other everyday scenarios in which He will reveal who He is and who we are in Him. The essential question that remains for me and for you is: are we keeping our eyes and ears attentive to this experience?