That new life can emerge from death is part of the basic narrative of Christianity, which connects the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The myth of the phoenix bird, which burns and rises from its ashes, shows how far the motif of resurrection reaches beyond Christianity. For the Belgian artist Kris Martin it is the starting point for a new artistic intervention at Passiontide in St. Matthew's Church: Kris Martin draws with ashes on the gallery parapets and in the apse of the church, which itself is the site of a resurrection from ruins: DOVE, BREAD, FISH, LINEN, TABLE, BED, VINE, SNAKE, MAN... words instead of pictures. Words from the ashes of the objects they designate. "You shall not make for yourself a graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, nor what is in the water under the earth!” says the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:4). And Kris Martin sticks to it: no pictures. only words. But words that create inner images. Not the artist, but the viewers make their own pictures. Can we even live without (inner) images? The question also occupied the reformers when the Wittenberg Icon Controversy began at the beginning of Passiontide in 1522 and Martin Luther defended the images in his famous "Invocavit" sermons. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. And Kris Martin sticks to it: no pictures. only words. But words that create inner images. Not the artist, but the viewers make their own pictures. Can we even live without (inner) images? The question also occupied the reformers when the Wittenberg Icon Controversy began at the beginning of Passiontide in 1522 and Martin Luther defended the images in his famous "Invocavit" sermons. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. And Kris Martin sticks to it: no pictures. only words. But words that create inner images. Not the artist, but the viewers make their own pictures. Can we even live without (inner) images? The question also occupied the reformers when the Wittenberg Icon Controversy began at the beginning of Passiontide in 1522 and Martin Luther defended the images in his famous "Invocavit" sermons. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. Can we even live without (inner) images? The question also occupied the reformers when the Wittenberg Icon Controversy began at the beginning of Passiontide in 1522 and Martin Luther defended the images in his famous "Invocavit" sermons. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. Can we even live without (inner) images? The question also occupied the reformers when the Wittenberg Icon Controversy began at the beginning of Passiontide in 1522 and Martin Luther defended the images in his famous "Invocavit" sermons. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end. 500 years later, Kris Martin points out the imagery of our words - and the life-renewing power of language: "You are taken from the dust, you will return to the dust," says the Ash Wednesday liturgy. But that's not the end.