Gray — the color of overcast skies and the sea under them, the color of silver, of distance, of twilight. And of the brain, perhaps the reason why we associate gray with intellect, wisdom and knowledge.
The human eye, they say, can distinguish as many as 500 shades of gray. Which can only mean that gray underlies all color.
The liturgical season of Lent began on Ash Wednesday. Because I had to travel to attend a court hearing in the morning, the wife and I had our foreheads lined with ash during an evening mass. Gray, the color of ash, represents Lent — the 40-day spiritual trek by way of works of mercy, prayer and self-giving, which recalls a similar period that Jesus spent in the desert praying and fasting, and engaging the devil with his three-fold offer of worldly allurements. Of course, Lent culminates with the marking of the passion and death of Jesus with liturgical rites, which inevitably take us to the threshold of Easter.
Here is how, in his typical laconic style, Mark describes the original, Jesus’ own Lent.
“At once the Spirit drove him out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days, tempted by Satan. He was among wild beasts, and the angels ministered to him.”
“After John had been arrested, Jesus came to Galilee proclaiming the gospel of God: ‘This is the time of fulfillment. The kingdom of God is at hand. Repent, and believe in the gospel.’”
“Repent, and believe in the gospel” — the priest’s words still ring in my ears. I can still feel his finger drawing a little cross on my forehead with moistened ash.
I told myself, keeping in mind that Lent has 40 days, that each day I should do something spiritual, that of the gray of Lent, I should make forty shades. I find the basic grays already given and in place, such as confession, Friday abstinence from meat, almsgiving or any of the works of charity, Way of the Cross – all of which must lead to conversion of heart, the bending of a self-centered life, which St. Augustine describes as “incurvatus in se” (curved in upon itself) outwards, so as to open it up to God and others.
The other shades of gray depend on my relationship with Christ. How do I express it in different ways? Does my intimacy with Christ have an element of spontaneity and surprise, as that of true friends, as that of genuine lovers?
Does my inspiration turn my mixtures of gray into delightful, new patterns?
I did not know that one could make other grays than the usual blend of white and black, that with the primary colors (red, black and yellow) one could have as well cool grays and warm grays. With yellows and reds one can produce a warm gray, and with blues and greens, a cool gray. A writer gave, as example of warm gray, a snow-covered field on a cloudy day, and of cool gray a bonfire on a beach during sunset.
While gray bespeaks mourning too, sadness need not inform my celebration of Lent. The wife and I have plans for a joyful 40 days, which do not exclude an excursion to the outdoors – beach, mountain, mall – or a lively time with relatives and friends. For as long as we maintain the basic color of Lent – gray, the soul of all color.
A watercolor teacher admonishes her students in the making of gray, “Never use black!”
One should do the same with the interior life – never use black, never succumb to sadness, joy must underlie whatever happens.
For, in the dawn of the third day, already in the gray that emerged from the blackness of Good Friday were the fiery colors of the Resurrection.