Terrible Beauty

Whenever I question whether the Spirit can work in anyone, I need only be reminded of Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, the 17^th century painter. What we know of his life comes primarily from police records (violent altercations, weapons offenses, and likely murder) yet he painted some of the most profoundly moving images of the life of Christ.

This painting, the Deposition (circa 1600) is typical of Caravaggio’s style. There is a heightened realism, almost theatrical quality to his paintings. Surrounded by shadow (tenebroso), the characters are illuminated almost as if by a flash of lightning or a spotlight creating the dramatic effect of capturing a specific moment of time.  Caravaggio’s work is also palpable – you can almost feel the weight of the body on the bearers; you feel as though the body is being lowered into a space that is directly between the characters in the painting and the viewer, and the people are not some idealized characters but people with all their flaws and disfigurements exposed.  There are no haloes, no pristine robes. We are invited in to participate in the terrible beauty of the story.

Most people respond to Caravaggio’s work viscerally. There is an “Ewww” factor when you see dirt on the feet, the hand touching the wound in the side of Jesus. Even in Caravaggio’s time there was the all-to-human propensity to sanitize the violence and the brutality out of the Passion Story.

The painting had the same effect on Caravaggio’s audience in the same way many people responded to the violent, brutal images in the movie “ The Passion of the Christ”. We turn away from the horrifying images because we want to deny that we are capable of that. We lie to ourselves and say “That was a long time ago and we are more civilized now” ignoring the images on the nightly news (which frequently sanitizes itself).

We emerge from our own tenebroso, captured by the light of the truth of Good Friday in which we all are participants in brutal acts against God and the children of God. We lash out with words that cut and scar as deeply as any whip would; we betray, deny, pass judgment on and sleep through times of need as well as the disciples, Judas, Peter or Pilate ever did. Each Good Friday confronts us with our flaws and disfigurements and challenges us to do better.  We are challenged to see the Spirit at work in the unlikeliest of places and people, to face our own complicity in the tension of the world, our communities and even our own workplaces.

Lord, paint on our hearts the message of Good Friday, in all its terrible beauty.

Amen.

Paul S.