The Mother in the MOA

This week in class, we were able to visit BYU’s Museum of Art (MOA). I visited the “Intimations of Divinity” exhibit once before with Blair, one of my good friends. I have to say that visiting the museum for the second time with my D&C class was an incredibly different experience than viewing it the first time. Each experience had its pros and cons. However, I'd like to highlight just one contrast between these two visits that really impacted me as a student:

Blair Williams is an art lover. She just came back from a Study Abroad in Paris, where she frequently took pictures of the art, people and culture that impressed her. As such, visiting the MOA with Blair was like having a personal tour guide through the museum. I should point out that Blair is also a liberal, like myself. I remember distinctly stopping at one of the paintings, entitled “Daily Bread,” and looking at Blair’s quizzical reaction there. The painting was a vibrant depiction of a middle-aged woman facing the viewer with a loaf of bread in her apron. “I do not like this piece,” she said, “because this woman is too depressed. This bread represents sacrifice to God and the home, but women don’t have to be martyrs in their own household!” I definitely agreed with Blair. If this bread represents a sacrifice to the Lord and this woman is a mother, I thought, what does this say about womanhood? That we sacrifice unwillingly? That we labor too hard for our devotion to God and family? Indeed, throughout the day after that visit, I kept thinking back to that woman, and I was disturbed. I think this was because that woman reminded me of so many over-stressed and overwhelmed mothers who were trying to keep their own families running. I believed that the role of these mothers was unjust, and that they placed too much burden on their own shoulders. I wanted to see their children and husbands help them, and I wanted them to realize that they could simplify their own lives.

Visiting the museum for the second time, I was just as disturbed during our group discussion about the mother. That is, until I heard a comment from one member of the class, who simply said that the woman reminded him of Christ. And, although that comment did not entirely take away my dislike of the painting, I was able to suddenly see the whole piece in a new light. That woman was Christ, offering her bread, or body, as a sacrifice to save us from sin. The blue background reminds us of the water in the sacrament, or the blood of Christ. And, while I still believed that this metaphor of Christ should not extend to a mother who believes it is her duty to work without help in the home, I could suddenly see the painter’s point that we are all striving to become like Christ. His ultimate service for us was something that we could not do ourselves, just as mothers are caretakers for their young, helpless children.

I will not soon forget my visit to the MOA with my D&C class, if even just for that one painting. Visiting that museum taught me that what I perceive or understand about the world can change in an instant with the right inspiration, and that, in order to continually progress in this life, I need to value my educational opportunities in the academic world, at home, and in religious terms.