Worn Out and Tired: Devotion for March 23

Vincent Van Gogh is one of my favorite artists. When I ran across this painting, I was not familiar with it, so I did some investigating. It was explained (on vincentvangogh.org) that a fellow student in Paris remembered Vincent buying these boots at a flea market, hoping to use them for a still life. But they were in good shape and didn’t look discouraged enough, so Vincent tramped around in them until they were worn enough to say what he wanted them to say.

Vincent did not have an easy life. Some art critics comment that the worn-out leather and tired soles are symbols of the painter’s weary and threadbare life. Chances are he didn’t want to paint the boots while they were in pristine condition is because he couldn’t relate to them then. Only after they had been stretched, dirtied, and worn did they merit his attention.

Sometimes life beats us up a bit. But I think that only makes us more beautiful, interesting, and real. We don’t need to apologize for our scratches and sags and scars. They are proof of a life that was not lived on the sidelines—but rather in the trenches. They are a sign of survival and experiences. I find this painting beautiful, even though it is just of a pair of dull brown shoes on a brown background. They reflect real life—not the polished serene demeanor we often try to hide behind. 

In a letter to his brother Theo, Vincent wrote, “I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven toward these things with an irresistible momentum.” Maybe this shows us that it is possible—maybe even easier—to see the fingerprints of the Divine in the most ordinary of objects. In the most ordinary, perhaps even worn out, lives. 

In Ephesians, God says that we are his masterpiece. Isn’t it good to know that something worn down by life is, most certainly, still a masterpiece, like these boots? Perhaps because it is in the ordinariness and thread-worn parts of life where humanity lies. 

See you in church!

Pr. Laurie Neill