Finding the Sacred in the Ordinary: Road Toward the Farm
As soon as I saw the title of this painting, I knew I had to write about it. Growing up in rural Minnesota, both my maternal and paternal sides have family farms. They were not flashy or new, but they hold some of my dearest memories. Many of these memories include walking the land with my parents or grandparents as they shared their own stories and experiences that shaped them into the people they are today. Looking at this painting brings me back to those walks with my family, taking in the beauty of the land and imagining how it has changed over the years.
This painting, completed by Claude Monet, was one of ten paintings he created of this same road and view. This was Monet’s first time painting the same subject repeatedly, something he would continue to do throughout the rest of his artistic career. It is interesting to compare these paintings and wonder why an artist would do this. Part of it may be the desire to perfect one’s craft, to become better through practice again and again. But I think there is something deeper, especially with painting. Our world never stays the same; the landscape is always changing. Even when painting the same outdoor space over and over again, there is always something new to notice, something different to adjust or emphasize in the next piece. Memory itself changes as the seasons change, as we change, and as our experiences shape us. I think Monet invites us to reflect on how our memories are powerful and beautiful, yet also malleable.
Memories are such an ordinary part of our lives, yet they can be incredibly powerful. There is a reason memories feel so tactile, involving all five senses—sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Through memory, we can relive and reenter moments from the past, even moments we may not have experienced ourselves. Memories and experiences can be passed down, which is how stories become tradition and eventually part of our own lived experience. Placing ourselves in physical spaces that engage our senses often sparks a deeper and sharper experience of memory.
Lent itself is a season of memory—remembering the Lord’s journey to His crucifixion, death, and resurrection. It is also a time to remember our own sinfulness, weakness, and great need for God’s mercy. But this memory cannot stop at remembering; it must lead us to action—action toward purification and preparation for what is to come. There is a reason why Tradition is so important to our Catholic faith. It is the passing down of memory, knowledge, experience, and understanding that shapes how we live, how we worship, and how we are united as a Church and with the Lord.
I invite you to lean into your memories this Lent. Allow the Lord to walk with you on the road of faith, a road that is always changing and always inviting you to go deeper and to see things anew. Memory shows us our current reality as something ever new, something to continually experience and behold. Share these lived memories with the Lord, who desires to unite Himself to your experience and bring you to the foot of the Cross in His own.
