“For the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7b (KJV)
I’m passionate about art. My favorite galleries encompass the National Gallery of Art in Washington, DC, the Tate Museum in London, and the Louvre in Paris. Highlights include Michelangelo Buonarroti’s “David” and “Madonna and Child with the Infant St. John.” Who wouldn’t swoon standing in front of a pre-Raphaelite depiction of “Beata Beatrix” by Dante Gabriel Rossetti as they experience the joy of God’s creation on canvas—a master of color, light, and technique? I could spend hours (maybe days) inside a museum surrounded by art, but I prefer sculptures to paintings. Sculptures invite me to walk around them, and I enjoy the stroll as I assess the artwork from various angles. Exercise and engagement help me develop a sense of the community and surrounding area. I did both at “The Statue of Liberty” by Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi in New York and “The Lincoln Memorial” by Henry Bacon & Daniel Chester French in Washington, DC. The biggest reason I love sculptures is God’s unfailing use of my walk-around as teaching moments, opening or redirecting my heart to Him and giving feedback. With God’s gentle nudge, I confront my biases head-on, like when I judge someone from a one-dimensional viewpoint without knowing them and then recognize the nudge could be coming from my heavenly father. Today, I visited the Bozeman Sculpture Park. I rushed past the modern sculptures of concrete forms bent sideways and curled like snakes to Kimber Fiebiger’s “Egghead,” a 2016 People’s Choice Award and part of the permanent collection. Shining in the sunshine, the bronze artwork reminded me of a blue teacup with an egg resting inside the rim. Initially, I visualized a breakfast table and someone reaching for a spoon, ready to dig into the soft membrane of a poached egg. I judged the sculpture out of habit based on first impressions and connections. But who am I to judge another? Hadn’t I read Samuel’s warning against looking at man’s outward appearance and his encouragement to become more like God by looking at the heart? With Samuel’s words in mind, I wanted to look at all “Egghead,” so I walked to the side, noting the size and shape of the piece. The arms, hands, and fingers, reaching forward a few inches, held something. Curiosity got the best of me, and I took a few more steps until I faced the sculpture. God surprised me yet again. Grinning from one eggy cheek to the other, “Egghead” smiled at an open book held above crossed legs of bluish-green stripes that disappeared inside black shoes with square buckles. His finger pointed to the side. Or was it at me and my heart because he wanted to connect with me as much as I hoped and prayed for a connection with him? Hope washed over me. I assumed the bronze sculpture was an old egg inside a teacup. From a different vantage point, I learned that we shared more in common than first believed. We both enjoy books, reading, and sitting on a park bench. Despite its small size and less famous artists, the Bozeman Sculpture Park created the same community feel as New York and Washington, D.C. But whether in Montana, New York, or the District of Columbia, God uses art to grab my attention. My good father pressed upon my soul not to look at “Egghead” or a person—His ultimate creation—from a one-dimensional point of study or outward appearance alone. I must look at the heart and try to see a created masterpiece the way God sees His creation.
