Pretty picture

Friday, Jul. 01, 2016

The lead photo of last Friday’s ordination is rather good, if I do say so myself.

I can’t take the credit even though I was the one who snapped it, because that image wasn’t what I had in mind for our front page. I knew I wanted something showing the solemnity of the moment, and the purpose and beauty of the ceremony, and it need to be artsy and eye-catching as well.

First, though, I had to overcome the significant obstacles that always arise whenever we photograph an event in the Cathedral of the Madeleine. The glorious interior design aside, everything works against the photographer: the lighting, the crowds, and the fact that no matter where you stand, there’s a person or a candlestick or a microphone or a lectern in the way of what’s happening on the altar.

(The p. 1 photo is a prime example. The ambo obscures the view of Archbishop Wester ordaining Fr. Martinez. However, if I’d moved so that I could get him in the photo, I would have gotten Fr. Martinez’s back, and Deacon Tilley wouldn’t be in the frame at all, and what makes the photo so strong is its underlying symbolism of the journey the deacon faces during the next year as he takes his final steps toward being the one kneeling to take his priestly vows.) 

Anyway, while I was thinking about how to depict the ordination on our front page, I had to decide which moment I wanted to capture. The blessing of the priest’s hands is unique to the ceremony, so I decided to focus on that. There were two angles from which I could get the shot: from behind the screen shielding the altar from where the choir sat, or from the organ loft. The first, of the archbishop doing the blessing, would give me a nice close up. The other would be a wide-angle shot, taken as Fr. Martinez approached the altar with his hands, anointed with chrism oil, bound in a cloth.

Either photo would make a great front page, but despite my careful planning, neither happened. For the first shot, an obstacle blocked the view of Fr. Martinez’s hands, and for the second, I couldn’t get into the organ loft.

At which point I walked outside the cathedral and whined to God that I was finished. If he wanted a decent photo from the ordination, it was up to him to provide it, because I’d done what I could, and as far as I was concerned the whole thing was a bust.

You can see his response on p. 1.

All of which makes a wonderful story about how God provides. It would be a nice tale to tell, if I’d reacted with gratitude and praise. However, although I knew even as I clicked the shutter that it was the best photo I’d taken all night, I was angry that neither of my planned shots had worked. What’s the point of all the education and experience I’ve worked so hard to attain if I have to rely on God to provide the opportunity to use them?

My resentment simmered so near the boiling point that I wasn’t even aware of the irony: God had responded to my plea for help in his usual munificent way, giving me even more than I’d asked for, but instead of being grateful, I was angry because it wasn’t what I’d envisioned.

Not until another photographer praised the image did I forced myself to swallow my pride and acknowledge that it really was the best photo I could have gotten, and gave thanks to God.