Needlepoint kneelers enter a new phase

One Stitch at a Time

By Anne Pennypacker

Iam a middle school English teacher by way of an early career in advertising, as well as part- time artist, lifelong Episcopalian, wife, mother, daughter of a faithful family. Several years ago, while attending an educational conference in Santa Fe, I chanced upon a museum exhibit of the St. John’s Bible. Completed in 2011, this handwritten, hand-illuminated Bible is thought to be the first such commissioned work since the Bible met the printing press in the 1400s.

My venture began merely as a way to gain an air-conditioned reprieve from the Santa Fe sun, but a docent practically pulled me into the Bible exhibit.

Inside, large folios, spotlighted on acrylic stands in a dark gallery, appeared to be floating in air, and I found myself entranced by the effect. Cool and dark and beautifully lit, there was something enchanting about reading John 1:1 in an illuminated manuscript: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”

Seeing words so sublimely rendered was a way for me to see the face of God.

This memory helped me imagine using illustrated scripture on kneelers in an effort to allow people to experience the beauty of the word in a tactile way, though I wasn’t really sure how this would happen. Interestingly, though, thanks to the genuinely supportive nature of our rector and this parish community, the way was revealed and I began to work on the designs.

As I became caught up in the nuts and bolts of the project, and of life, I have at times found myself losing track of that face I saw in Santa Fe.

At times, circumstances, distance, and current affairs have shrouded my inspiration. I sometimes find myself sinking into a place where words–my love–disappear from my awareness. I don’t pore over them like I used to when books were precious and scarce. I don’t send handwritten letters to friends anymore. I don’t linger over pages. I swipe through words. I glimpse more words in minutes than I used to see in months. And when they bore me, I surf, and scroll, and swipe again. For me, fleeting words have lost their power. And quite frankly at times, so has God. Covid, racial tension, a student death, supreme uncertainty—wouldn’t you just like to sit God down sometimes and say, “Really? What are you thinking?”

I was at that point after a particularly long day of “Covid-ness” when I sat down to paint one of the kneeler canvases. On this particular night, it was an obligation, not a charm.

Most of the kneelers are 58 inches long, and each inch of canvas to be stitched is a 14x14 grid. That’s 11,368 stitches across one inch of a 58-inch row. In order for a fiber artist to stitch the design, each letter has to be painted. Each strand of canvas needs to be counted, and each letter rendered to fit. In addition, it needs to be consistent across the project. It isn’t a quick process by any means. It requires thought and focus. I have to pay a great deal of attention to each word. There is no swiping.

On this particular night, I found myself engrossed in each pixel of each letter of each verse to get across the line. After sustaining this concentration over several hours, I realized I was no longer yelling at God in my head, and I found myself experiencing a resurrection moment from my daily grind, experiencing “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding.”

I can’t explain it adequately. Covid grace—the unique opportunity to slow words down to a thread, the time to deeply contemplate “the word,” to think about it slowly, I don’t really know. But I hope that during the sustained work by the many artists who will stitch the designs over time, such mystic moments will replicate themselves in the cadence of the stitch, and that the people who select the verses, and the people who kneel and pray, and those who minister, and those who serve will also see the words as the face of God in worship.

We are continuing to build the beauty of holiness in new ways in this ancient and modern village green. Thank you for this opportunity to work with you, and for your willingness to make it happen. ✤