Art in Scripture: The Wilderness PathSample

Valley of the Shadow of Death, 1855

ROGER FENTON

Valley of the Shadow of Death, 1855, Salted paper print, 276 x 349 mm, The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles; 84.XM.504.23, Digital image courtesy of the Getty's Open Content Program

Opening Prayer:

O LORD, we know You are with us, even on the longest, loneliest paths. Comfort and shelter us in the midst of life’s challenges. Soothe our grief in ways beyond our comprehension.

When we find ourselves doubting Your presence, remind us who we are: precious children of the Creator. Guide us through the darkest nights until dawn breaks once again. Send Your angels to minister to us in our hour of need.

Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, help us remember that we never do so alone. Use this barren path to strengthen us. May we emerge from this season with renewed faith, greater wisdom, and resilience we can carry into the future.

Help us receive Your sacred guidance through today’s photograph and Scriptural contemplation. Thank You for being present with us as we reflect on this humbling art.

Thoughts for Reflection:

When we’re in the depths of grief, it can feel as though we’re wandering alone in a wasteland, with no sign of hope for miles. That feeling is perfectly depicted through Roger Fenton’s photograph entitled Valley of the Shadow of Death, which captures the Crimean “valley of death” and gives a nod to Psalm 23. Commentator Natasha O’Hear writes that this ravine “ran between the British and Russian camps during the Crimean war,” and its moniker was coined by Crimean troops.

O’Hear goes on: “Fenton, one of the first war photographers, had been commissioned to take photos of the Crimean War.” The commentator writes that Fenton captured this symbolic terrain “[b]ecause Victorian sensibilities could not tolerate graphic photographs.”

There’s no sign of life in the photograph; rather, “the barren hills and the snaking road are covered in cannonballs and other debris, a grim reminder of the human loss that the landscape repeatedly bore witness to throughout the war.” In the same way, life’s challenges don’t just leave us reeling; sometimes, we carry evidence of battles no one else may understand.

When we walk through our own “valley of the shadow of death,” the Creator is with us every step of the way. He’s there to reveal the signs of life and to lovingly shoulder our burdens so we may have freedom. As we contemplate Fenton’s haunting photograph alongside corresponding passages from Psalm 23, Psalm 119, and Matthew 11, may we remember that even when the trek feels never-ending, we can turn to God for sustenance, comfort, and rest.