I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb…Then the angel said to me, “These are they who have come out of the great ordeal…they are before the throne of God, and worship him day and night within his temple, and the one who is seated on the throne will shelter them. They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” – Revelation 7:9-17, portions

Beloved of God,

November begins with our All Saints remembrance and ends with Advent’s call to new beginning.  We’ll be lifting up with gratitude four from our congregation’s roster of saints on November 7:  Esther, Betty, Mary, and Ruth.  Remembering them is important—both for keeping their legacies alive in our memory and for reminding ourselves of the destiny that awaits us, too: to be counted among those “from all tribes, peoples, and languages” who will stand before the Lamb.

Last year, in preparing for All Saints Sunday, I found a painting by John August Swanson that spoke of the vast community of saints, past and present, who walk beside us on this pilgrimage of life.  Immediately, I wanted to use his painting for the cover of our All Saints bulletin. That painting, THE PROCESSION, is on the cover this year’s All Saints Sunday bulletin as well, in honor of Mr. Swanson, who joined the saints in glory on September 23rd of this year.

In an obituary of Mr. Swanson published in America, the Jesuit Review, Cecilia González-Andrieu shares some vignettes from Mr. Swanson’s life and his evolution as an artist. [1]   His mother, Magdalena Velasquez, migrated to the United States from Mexico in 1928, fleeing violence and revolution. His father,  Sven August Svensson, left his native Sweden in a similar timeframe in search of work and landed in America.  As the Great Depression hit, “Gus” (at the Ellis Island Emigration Center he was renamed “John August Swanson,” a name he would pass on to his son) moved around as a day laborer before settling in Los Angeles where he found work as a vegetable seller and met Magdalena.  Magdalena, a gifted seamstress, found work and community with the Jewish tailors who had arrived fleeing anti-Semitic violence in Russia. She attended night school, became a voracious reader and volunteered as a grassroots organizer for labor, housing and voting rights.  But life was difficult, and Gus took to drink, abandoning the family often and forcing his young son to scour the streets and jails looking for him.  Tragically, Gus never made it to old age. The last time his son found him he was dying.

His father absent, John lived with his grandmother, mother and sister. From them he learned his Catholic faith, Mexican traditions and the insight that social justice is required of a faithful Christian life. Through a series of experiments, failures, and forays down various vocational paths, Swanson gradually acquired the skills and discerned his calling to bring together faith, justice and art.  The artist and his art were formed by his immigrant family’s wounded history.  It is this difficult life that develops into themes of loss and redemption in Swanson’s work—and intricate complexity.

The “Procession” serigraph, which he considered his grand opus, is made up of a staggering 89 layers of unique colors. Today, the original painting is in the Vatican’s Collection of Modern Religious Art, and Swanson’s works are collected by The Smithsonian, The Tate, the Art Institute of Chicago, countless universities, seminaries, monasteries, and churches of all denominations.  While he eventually achieved tremendous success and recognition, Mr. Swanson remained humble.           Doctoral student Emilie Grosvenor said of Swanson: “To meet John August Swanson was to feel seen and loved and cared for, even if the interaction lasted only a few minutes. One would be hard pressed to leave his company without some sample of his work to lend hope, and to remind the person receiving the gift where the Spirit’s beauty, justice and hope are ever to be found: in community with the other.”  My own experience of Mr. Swanson echoes her comments!

Last fall when I called the phone number given on the artist’s website to inquire about permission to use his art in our publications, who should answer but Mr. Swanson himself.  What followed was a delightful conversation in which we spoke of his work, discovered personal connections, and talked about art’s role in providing new ways of seeing and experiencing the world.   We spoke of the need for Creation care, and before we said goodbye he asked me to choose five posters from his online gallery as gifts.  When the posters arrived I found he’d thrown in two more for good measure.  Now, a year later,  I treasure that conversation I was privileged to have with Mr. Swanson.  If anything, the testimony of the body of work he leaves behind takes on even more significance for me in the wake of his death.

When news of Swanson’s illness became known thousands of messages poured in. Remarkably, hundreds of people counted him as a personal friend, and this he truly was.   The luminous and hope filled religious sensibility embodied in his work made his work appeal to a broad audience.  This sensibility, wrote González-Andrieu, arose “out of lo cotidiano, the small details of life where the sacred reveals itself.”  When I call to mind Esther, Betty, Mary, and Ruth, it’s small details from the points where our lives intersected that stand out.  God is in the details, hidden among every day encounters, humble offerings. This All Saints Sunday, as we remember those dear to us, we lift up with gratitude the work of John August Swanson and others who, through the centuries, have given us a glimpse of the joyous hope and resplendent beauty which encompasses those whom God calls to his side.  For all the saints!

[1] I quote liberally from her obituary in what follows.  The full obit can be found here: https://www.americamagazine.org/arts-culture/2021/09/23/john-august-swanson-death-art-241485