Jimmy paints a sky with diamonds

National Catholic Reporter, May 24, 1996 by Jeff Behrens

My sisters and brothers had arrived from places far and near for a weekend of celebrations. On a lovely May evening we drove to visit my godmother in Brooklyn, N.Y.

After a while, my brother Peter and I headed out to the balcony for a cigarette. It was a feast for the eyes. To the right, we could see the Narrows, the still waters dotted with large ships. Staten Island and Jersey City lined the far-horizon. The sun was setting behind the tired buildings of Jersey City.

At dusk, lights were flicked on in thousands of windows across the city. Sea gulls swirled lazily. The low, mellow horn of a ship entering the Narrows seemed to ride beneath all the other sounds.

I saw a woman across the way, adjusting a hat as she looked into a mirror. She looked at herself for a few seconds, then took the hat off and left the room. There were people sitting in chairs and on sofas, all so high in the, air, reading their evening newspapers by the light of their shaded lamps. I thought of how they would look if suddenly the floors and walls were magically airbrushed away and there they would be occupying different spaces in the sky on their cushioned seats. It would have been a good Magritte painting, Below, an old man walked his little dog. Kids were playing ball in the street.

It was all so peaceful. I felt a special connectedness with everyone. With Peter, with the lady fixing her hat, with the old man walking his dog, with the gulls circling above and the ships in the distance.

It struck me as familiar. And then I know why. I had recently seen a painting much like what lay before me. My friend Jimmy had been working on it for years and it was almost finished.

Jimmy filled his sky with clusters of diamonds. His hand lavished them with the most brilliant hues imaginable. What lies below sparkles and shines in the reflection of hundreds of spinning sky diamonds.

There is a gospel story about those who cast seeds to the earth in the hope of a great harvest. Jesus says those who hope for the harvest must toil, not always knowing the outcome of their labors. The story is a parable about the kingdom of God. Our labor bears fruit in ways we do not see.

Driving back that night, we took the New Jersey Turnpike. There are many refineries in that area, with thousands of lights and tongues of fire from the burning of excess gas. I thought warmly of Jimmy and the long-ago sowers.

If you were to paint your favorite city, would you take a stab at some abstract form or would you try to replicate what is there, latent and in need of an artist's eye, an artist's love?

Jesus is asked about the kingdom, and he replies in terms of seeds and the unknown and trust and pearls and harvests and nets cast into the sea.

And people seemed satisfied and hungered for more such words. They must, have known in their hearts what he, was talking about. One cannot be entirely direct when addressing what lies deepest in the heart. We then become the poet and the artist. How else describe a love as deep as the ocean.

Jimmy loves cities and their people and, tosses diamonds across the heavens above to better illumine what lies below.

Look out a window some evening and. remember Jimmy and the sowers. Imagine the night winds carrying billions of seeds you cannot see and trust, if only for a few moments, that across the heavens there are being tossed billions of diamonds. the seeds are your good words, your loves, your efforts at easing the labors of another. Some of the seeds are those that exist because you simply are and speak and share this yet-to-be-harvested earth with others.

What is the kingdom of God really like? Like a net cast into the sea. Or the tiniest of seeds. Or a man who sought treasure in. a field.

And I saw a woman fix her hat and a man walk his dog and children chasing a ball and a summer sky filled with diamonds.