The Gospel in Picture Book Form
I am currently reading The Return of the Prodigal Son by Henri Nouwen. A good friend recommended it to me, but I dove in without realizing that Rembrandt’s famous painting was at the heart of Nouwen’s reflections.
If you haven’t read the book, Nouwen begins by describing his first encounter with Rembrandt’s depiction of one of Jesus’ most familiar parables. Nouwen writes:
“One day I went to visit my friend Simone Landrien in the community’s small documentation center. As we spoke, my eyes fell on a large poster pinned on her door. I saw a man in a great red cloak tenderly touching the shoulders of a disheveled boy kneeling before him. I could not take my eyes away. I felt drawn by the intimacy between the two figures, the warm red of the man’s cloak, the golden yellow of the boy’s tunic, and the mysterious light engulfing them both. But, most of all, it was the hands—the old man’s hands—as they touched the boy’s shoulders that reached me in a place where I had never been reached before.”
Art has a way of slipping past our defenses and touching something deep inside of us. Henri Nouwen walked away from that moment intrigued and on a journey of discovery. He continued to study Rembrandt’s The Return of the Prodigal Son—even visiting the museum where the painting was housed. His encounter with Rembrandt eventually revealed a fuller picture of what it means to be the Father’s beloved.
Like Nouwen, I also have an image that has stayed with me over the years. But mine wasn’t found in a museum. My imagination was captured by a two-page spread in a picture book—Mr. Gumpy’s Outing by John Burningham. If you’ve read it, perhaps it has spoken to you as well.
To appreciate the full impact of the picture I’m talking about, you need to know the circumstances surrounding Mr. Gumpy’s infamous outing.
Mr. Gumpy owns a boat and sets out on a peaceful trip down the river. Along the way, he welcomes an eclectic group of passengers. Two children and nearly every farm animal imaginable climbs aboard; each receiving specific instructions on how they can all stay dry.
The conclusion is almost too predictable. Even my young boys knew what was coming. A boat loaded with children and animals is bound to tip eventually, right? Sure enough, each passenger ignores their captain’s instructions, sending everyone—including Mr. Gumpy—headfirst into the murky river water.
Burningham illustrates this moment of splashing chaos with a full-spread scene—one of only two that span the pages of his book. The other is my very own Nouwen/Rembrandt moment.
In John Burningham fashion, the book’s artwork speaks volumes. His sketchy cross-hatched style introduces a sense of authentic messiness that we innately understand accompanies everyday life. And yet, Burningham’s gentle watercolor washes bring a sense of calm and peacefulness to the mess. It’s an odd combination that somehow rings true to how we perceive the world around us. The fall feels real because it is.
After a brief interlude of witnessing Mr. Gumpy’s remarkable patience with his soggy, disobedient passengers, we get a Return of the Prodigal Son-esque image.
The fall is followed by a feast.
Reading this book to my boys for the first time, I was not prepared for what I saw when I turned the page. Stretched across the pages was Mr. Gumpy and his undeserving passengers gathered around a table, welcomed without hesitation.
I’ve thought about this picture a lot over the years and have come to a similar realization as Henri Nouwen did about Rembrandt’s painting.
“…Rembrandt’s painting [and I would contest John Burningham’s feasting scene] becomes more than a mere portrayal of a moving parable. It becomes the summary of the history of our salvation.”
Rembrandt may have rediscovered his faith later in life, and as far as I know, John Burningham did not share those beliefs. And yet, Burningham accurately portrayed the human story in two images created with a dichotomy of techniques. The fall and the feast—each brought to life with sketchy cross-hatching and gentle watercolor washes.
The Gospel in picture book form.
We are the guilty passengers who ignore the warnings of our captain (even though His ways are best). We don’t deserve to be invited home for tea, and yet our true and better Mr. Gumpy (a God who is anything but grumpy) graciously and patiently makes a way for us.
I’m always amazed by how often the Story of God shows up in unexpected places.
I shouldn’t be surprised, though.
His Story spins all around us. It can be found in harsh winters followed by budding springs. It can be found in parable stories and passionate paintings.
So…
Of course, it can be found in the middle of a picture book my boys want read to them over and over again.
Tyler and his wife live in small town Indiana where they are raising three action heroes of their own. He now knows the true Hero of the Story who conquered evil once and for all.
Tyler also writes about story, faith, and parenting at storyslant.com
- The Gospel in Picture Book Form - December 8, 2025
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