LIGHT OF THE WORLD
Scripture: John 8:12
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

Song to the Creator
by Hildegard of Bingen

You, all-accomplishing
Word of the Father
are the light of primordial
daybreak over the spheres.
You, the foreknowing
mind of divinity,
foresaw all your works
as you willed them,
your prescience hidden
in the heart of your power,
your power like a wheel around the world,
whose circling never began
and never slides to an end.

ANOTHER LIGHT
Human eyes are able to perceive only a tiny percentage of the light in the cosmos. The electromagnetic spectrum includes wavelengths of light ranging from thousands of kilometers long down to atomic fractions, within which humans see only wavelengths of roughly 390 to 700 nanometers. This narrow spectrum accounts for all the richness and astonishing variety of colors that humans are physiologically capable of seeing—beyond this, all wavelengths of light appear to us as utter darkness (ultraviolet, x-rays, and gamma rays have higher frequencies than humans can see, whereas infrared, microwaves, and radio waves have frequencies lower than we can see). In addition to these physiological limits, human vision is also limited by, and incredibly variable within, changing light contexts: as our eyes constantly readjust to the visible light available in any given situation, so too do our perceptions of color and form.

The famous light-and-space artist James Turrell explores these perceptual limits. His renowned Skyspaces, for instance, use intensely saturated light to change the color context in which viewers see the sky (particularly during the liminal periods of dawn and dusk), causing the same sky color to appear alternatively light or dark, warm or cool. For many viewers, these experiences are not only optical; they also have spiritual and theological implications, which are sometimes made clear by their context: Turrell, who is a Quaker, has installed Skyspaces in two Quaker meetinghouses—Live Oak Friends Meetinghouse in Houston and Chestnut Hill Friends Meetinghouse in Philadelphia—and more recently he created a permanent installation in the memorial chapel of the Dorotheenstadt Cemetery in Berlin (shown here).

The Dorotheenstadt Chapel is designed to let natural light in through narrow, translucent windows along the sides of the chapel and through skylights above the altar. Similar to the Skyspaces, this light is dramatically recontextualized through a one-hour cycle of saturated colors emanating from hidden LED fixtures throughout the chapel. The lighting cycle coincides with the sunset. When the cycle begins, the chapel interior glows with brilliant blues, and the glowing altar begins morphing in color every two minutes. As the sunlight gradually drains from the sky, the interior of the chapel changes from blue to intense greens, reds, and magentas, causing the color of the natural light filtering through the windows to shift in appearance from orange to pink, deep violet, light gray, green, and so on. The waning daylight is manifestly made to appear pale and then black, pink and then green, depending on the vibrant context in which it is seen. As the cycle eventually draws to an end and the sunlight disappears from the sky, the chapel radiates light outward into the otherwise dark cemetery.

The sunset has long held significance in Christian liturgical theology by symbolically associating the setting sun with the end of the present age—an eschatological ending, beyond which begins the seemingly impossible new day: the redemption of all things. And in this symbolism, Christianity has always pressed the question of how the suffering of the present age is to be perceived. Our bodies break down and die and the sun disappears from our horizons—is there another light by which to see our situation? Is there another light that shines in this darkness—perhaps one rising on another historical horizon with a light that our eyes aren’t adjusted to see? The Dorotheenstadt Chapel is situated in a cemetery—a field of buried bodies—and it is precisely here, from inside this ecclesial space, that we are challenged to explore how radically our perception of the waning light of this day might be seen in another light.

Prayer
Almighty God, You make the night shine with the brightness of the true light. Grant that here on earth we may walk in the light of Jesus' presence. And in the last day wake to the brightness of His glory. Through Your only son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, Who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit,One God, now, and forever.
Amen.  

Jonathan A. Anderson
Associate Professor of Art