"Love follows knowledge."
"Beauty above all beauty!"
– St. Catherine of Siena

Showing posts with label Iconography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Iconography. Show all posts

Friday, January 2, 2026

Redeemer in the Womb: Jesus Living in Mary by John Saward, Post #5

This is the fifth post of six posts on Redeemer in the Womb: Jesus Living in Mary by John Saward.

You can find Post #1 here. 

Post #2 here.  

Post #3 here. 

Post #4 here. 

 


 

Chapter 5: First Step Into the World: The French School

Kerstin’s Summary:

In the seventeenth century the French School of Spirituality was inspired by Pierre Cardinal de Bérulle (1575–1629). They devoted much time to Jesus’ time in the womb. Bérulle is quoted throughout the chapter.

 

A ‘Copernican’ Christology

The most marked feature of the theology of Bérulle is its Christ-centeredness. Pope Urban VIII called him “the Apostle of the Word incarnate,” and one of his successors as superior general of the French Oratory, Fr. Bourgoing, suggested he had been sent by God “as a new St. John to point out Jesus Christ.” Bérulle worked a ‘Copernican revolution’ in the sacred sciences. He attempted in theology what his older contemporary Galileo achieved in astronomy.

“One of the outstanding intellects of this age has tried to maintain that the sun, and not the earth, is at the center of the universe. . . . This novel opinion, little followed in the science of the stars, is useful and must be followed in the science of salvation. For Jesus is the sun, immobile in his grandeur and moving all things. . . . Jesus is the true center of the world, and the world must be in a continual movement towards him. Jesus is the sun of our souls, from whom they receive all graces, lights, and influences.”

The Lodgings of the Son of God Like the Syriac theologians, Bérulle compares and links the diverse lodgings (séjours) of Jesus: the bosom of God the Father, the womb of the Blessed Virgin, and the altars of the Catholic Church.

“There are three states of Jesus that deserve singular and daily consideration: in the womb (sein) of the Father as Son of God, God from God, consubstantial and equal with his Father; in the womb of the Virgin as Son of Man, both man and God, the Mediator of God and men; in the womb of the Church, which is his centre and altar, as Lamb of God and victim of praise and propitiation, which she [the Church] presents to the eternal Father.”

The marvel of the Incarnation is this: it enables God to worship God. God the Son in his humanity adores God the Father, with whom, in his divinity, he is coequal. What is more, this filial worship of the Father begins at the first moment of the Incarnation and has its first sanctuary in the Virgin’s womb.
[…]Bérulle follows St. Thomas’ teaching that, from the first moment of his conception, Christ has the use of his human free will and at the summit of his soul enjoys the beatific vision of God.
“He is living in the Virgin, and he is life itself. He is holy by the grace of the hypostatic union, which is the grace of graces. He is in glory by the state of his soul, established at the very hour of its making in the vision of God.

 

The Unborn State of Christ

 

The Christology of Bérulle is a doctrine of état, “state.” […] Bérulle uses état in the latter sense to revive St. Irenaeus’ theology of recapitulation and the Thomist doctrine of Christ’s headship. As man, but because he is God, Christ is “the head of human nature.” In assuming a complete and concrete human nature, the eternal Word in some way unites himself to all men, and, by living a complete human life from conception to the last breath, he touches and hallows every stage of every man’s journey through this world.

 

“By this high, divine, and lofty counsel, we do not just have a Man-God, which is what the Incarnation gives us. We have an infant God, a mortal God, suffering, trembling, weeping in a cradle; a God living and walking on earth, in Egypt, in Judaea. . . . God wants us to have all the miseries, conditions, and lowlinesses of our nature relieved by the divine subsistence and personality, a God suffering and dying on the cross, a God dead in the tomb, for he who took our nature by the mystery of the Incarnation wanted to take all these states and conditions of our nature and to honour them with the divine subsistence, what the ancient Fathers of the Church call the economy and dispensation of the divine mystery. For the Incarnation of the Word is the basis and foundation of a supreme dignity, in other words, not only of the sanctification but also of the deification of all the states and mysteries that share the life and wayfaring condition of the Son of God on earth.”

 

The human conception of the Son of God and his life in the womb have a redeeming purpose. The virginal and miraculous character of his conception and his perfections as a human child in the womb are intended “to repair the ruins of our pitiful entry into the world as sinners.”

 

“Seeing that he wanted to be an infant on earth, in order to consecrate and sanctify human infancy contaminated by Original Sin, could this infancy have been better restored than by a Virginal Conception, a miraculous birth, a light of glory before the light of the world, a divine power in the powerlessness of the Child, the use of a holy and perfect life with God his Father and the Virgin his Mother before the use of his senses and the force of nature?”

 

“But we see sensibly that in this present state she is more close and more conjoined, while he is in her, while he is part of her, while she lives for him, and he lives by her, and he is in a continual state of dependence and even of indigence with regard to her.”



 

The Visitation

 

The Visitation, says Bérulle, is the only visible work reported by Scripture that Jesus and Mary performed during the nine months the divine baby was in his Mother’s womb.

 

“God has become a child, and so he wants first to be known and adored by a child, and this is one of the first emanations of the childhood of God, manifesting himself to the universe. God is a child, the world ignores, heaven adores, and a child is the first person in the universe to recognize and adore him, and he does so by the homage and secret operation of God himself, who wants to act upon children. He wants to honour himself as child by giving the first knowledge of himself to a child in the world, making him his prophet in the universe. Thus, the Infant-God is recognized and manifested, not by an angel, but by a child. His first prophet is a child, just as shortly his first martyrs will be children.”

 

Jesus in Mary: A Union of Hearts

 

Between any expectant mother and the child in her womb, there is more than a merely physical presence of the one to the other, of the one in the other. The bodily closeness is the basis of an intimacy of knowledge and love, a union of hearts. This natural bond is wonderfully strengthened by the unique fullness of grace with which the God-man and his Mother, each in their own way, are endowed.

 

“All her senses are directed at him, for this is a sensible mystery, a mystery that is sensible in her. And the whole of human sensibility owes homage to its God made sensible for human nature. All her spirit is applied there. . . . The grace infused into the Virgin, grace so excellent and exalted, applies and absorbs all the senses, all the faculties, and all the spirit of the Virgin. . . . Thus grace and nature conspire in her to establish an excellent disposition, one that enraptures her heart and her soul in Jesus her Son and her God.”

 

The French Poet Paul Claudel expressed it in this way:

 

At the end of this third month after the Annunciation,

which is June,

The woman who is God’s has heard the tune

Of heartbeats under hers and felt the movement

of her Son.

Within the sinless Virgin’s womb commences a new era.

The Child who is before all time assumes time in his

Mother of his Mother,

And in the primal Mover man’s breathing is begun!

She moves not, speaks not a word. She adores.

She withdraws from the world. For her, God is not

outdoors:

He is her work, her Son, her Baby, borne as her All!

Satan rules and the whole wide world offers him incense

and gold.

God penetrates like a thief in this Eden of death

overbold.

A woman was once deceived, and now a woman

cheats hell.

O God, in a woman hid! O Cause, in this bondage

bound!

Jerusalem knows naught; even Joseph sees darkness

profound.

The Mother alone with her Child feels his ineffable

moving.

 

For nine months, says Bérulle, Mary is the only person on earth who worships the mystery of the Incarnation. It takes place “on the earth, for the earth, and yet is not known by the earth.” For the benefit of the whole world, Mary alone in the world worships Jesus.

 

The Graces of Mary’s Womb Burden

 

Jesus . . . in his states and mysteries is himself our portion, and, while giving us a universal share in him, he wants us also to have an individual share in his diverse states depending on the different ways in which he has elected us and we are devoted to him. Thus, he shares himself with his children, making them partakers of the spirit and grace of his mysteries, appropriating to some his life and to others his death, to some his infancy, to others his power, to some his hidden life, to others his public life. . . . In all these different states and conditions he gives himself to all. He gives us his heart, his grace, and his spirit.

 

The infancy of the Son of God is a passing state. Its circumstances have passed away. He is no longer a child. Nevertheless, there is something divine in this mystery that continues in heaven and that effects a similar kind of grace in the souls who are on earth, whom it pleases Jesus Christ to affect and to dedicate to this humble and first state of his person.

 

The Good by God the Christ an Embryo:

 

From which His conceiving we may conceive His great love to us-ward. Love, not only condescending to take our nature upon Him, but to take it by the same way and after the same manner that we do, by being conceived. That, and no other better beseeming way. The womb of the Virgin is surely no such place, but He might well have abhorred it. He did not; pudorem exordii nostri non recusavit, saith Hilary; “He refused not that ourselves are ashamed of,” sed naturae nostrae contumelias transcurrit, “but the very contumelies of our nature (transcurrit is too quick a word) He ran through them”; nay, He stayed in them, in this first nine months. I say the contumelies of our nature not to be named, they are so mean. So mean indeed as it is verily thought they made those old heretics I named, and others more who yet yielded Him to be Man, to run into such fancies as they did; only to decline those foul indignities as they took them, for the great God of Heaven to undergo. . . . This sure is matter of love; but came there any good to us by it? There did. For our conception being the root as it were, the very groundsill of our nature; that He might go to the root and repair our nature from the very foundation, thither He went; that what had been there defiled and decayed by the first Adam, might by the Second be cleansed and set right again. That had our conception been stained, by Him therefore, primum ante omnia, to be restored again. He was not idle all the time He was an embryo—all the nine months He was in the womb. . . . This honour is to us by the dishonour of Him; this the good by Christ an embryo.

 

“Oh Wonderful and Incomprehensible Dependence of God”

 

St. Louis-Marie On Jesus in Mary’s Womb:

 

Jesus is at present, as much as he ever was, the fruit of Mary, as heaven and earth tell him a thousand times every day, “And blessed is the fruit of thy womb.” It is certain that, for every human being in particular who possesses him, Jesus Christ is as truly the fruit and the work of Mary as he is for the whole world in general, so that, if a faithful Christian has Jesus Christ formed in his heart, he can boldly say, “Great thanks to Mary, what I possess is her fruit and her work, and without her I would not have him.”

 


###

My Comment:

I found this surprising:

 

In the history of the Church, no school of theology and spirituality has given Jesus’ life in Mary more attention than the seventeenth-century French School, of which Pierre Cardinal de Bérulle (1575–1629)…was the chief inspiration.

 

I suppose that’s true. Until this book I had not realized there had been much contemplation of Jesus inside of Mary’s womb.

Frances’s Reply:

I hadn’t either, Manny.

Michelle’s Reply:

This book is the first time I've come across it. It's pretty clueless, but I never really gave much thought to it.

Michael’s Reply on a Different Thought:

Manny wrote: "I found this surprising:
In the history of the Church, no school of theology and spirituality has given Jesus’ life in Mary more attention than the seventeenth-century French School, of which Pierre Cardinal de Bérulle (1575–1629)…was the chief inspiration."


So interesting, Manny. I'll look into it. I think my wife has a book on French Catholic Church spirituality.

###

My Comment:

I found this passage in chapter 5 fascinating and worth deeper meditation.

 

The marvel of the Incarnation is this: it enables God to worship God. God the Son in his humanity adores God the Father, with whom, in his divinity, he is coequal. What is more, this filial worship of the Father begins at the first moment of the Incarnation and has its first sanctuary in the Virgin’s womb. Bérulle, who had a thorough knowledge of the Greek Fathers, repeats what Cyril, Proclus, and Andrew of Crete had recognized before him—namely, that the Virgin’s pure womb, unshadowed by any sin, containing the divine Word himself, is “the holy or sacred temple where Jesus reposes, the true Ark of the true Covenant . . . and the Virgin’s heart is the first altar on which Jesus offered his heart, his body, his spirit, as a victim of perpetual praise.” When Christ comes into the world, he surrenders his new human body and will to the service of the Father: “Lo, I have come to do thy will, O God” (Heb. 10:5–10; cf. Ps. 40:6–8).

 

That God the Son adores God the Father is evident in John’s chapter seventeen when Jesus gives His farewell discourse and great final prayer.

 

When Jesus had said this, he raised his eyes to heaven and said, “Father, the hour has come. Give glory to your son, so that your son may glorify you, just as you gave him authority over all people, so that he may give eternal life to all you gave him. Now this is eternal life, that they should know you, the only true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ. I glorified you on earth by accomplishing the work that you gave me to do. Now glorify me, Father, with you, with the glory that I had with you before the world began. (Jn 17:1-5)

 

I’m surprised Seward doesn’t allude to it, but here God worships God, the Father the Son and the Son the Father. I guess one could see this worship beginning in the womb with the Incarnation. John’s passage is a statement of the hour of His glory, when at the altar of the cross Jesus will offer Himself in sacrifice. Bérulle see the Virgin’s heart as the very first altar.

###

Note: While in discussion of Chapter 5, Kerstin received an emergency call that her mother in Germany, who was battling cancer, was in a critical state.  She had to rush to Germany.  I took over as lead moderator for the last three chapters.

###

Chapter 6: Our Lady of the Sign: The Liturgy and Sacred Art

My Summary:

This chapter explores how Our Lady, pregnant with Jesus, has shaped the liturgical season, shaped various liturgies, and shaped sacred art. 

 

Saward on the Liturgical Season:

When the eternal God enters time in the Virgin’s womb, time itself is redeemed (see Eph. 5:16). Days and seasons can now be holy and sanctifying and the year becomes liturgical. As she makes the journey from Advent to the last Sunday after Pentecost, the Church relives the mysteries of the life of Jesus, joyful and luminous, sorrowful and glorious, drawing from each a specific grace and lesson. Pope Pius XII writes: The Liturgical Year, devotedly nourished and accompanied by the Church, is not a cold and lifeless representation of the events of the past, nor a simple and bare record of a former age. It is rather Christ himself, ever living in his Church, continuing the journey of boundless mercy that he began in his mortal life when he went about doing good (see Acts 10:38). Its compassionate purpose is to put the minds of men into contact with his mysteries and somehow to live by them. . . .  (p. 103)

 

In a sermon on the Annunciation, St. Aelred, Cistercian abbot of Rievaulx (1109-1167), suggested we become contemporary with all the mysteries of our lord’s life on earth, from the first moment of the Incarnation, through the renewal and representation in the Mass of his sacrifice on the cross, which summed up and perfected all the previous mysteries.  (p. 105)

 

The mystery of Jesus’ life in Mary’s womb is always ‘recent’ in the Church’s memory.  Every evening she sings the Magnificat, the song of the pregnant Virgin Mother, in order to share more fully in her attitude of gratitude and obedience to God.  And at the end of each year, in preparation for the Saviour’s birthday, she enjoys a month’s contemplation of the same mystery.   (p. 105)

 

Saward on the Use of Mary in the Liturgy:

The traditional Advent liturgies thus clearly distinguish and separately celebrate the first moment of the incarnation at the Annunciation, when the Son of God took flesh upon himself in the Virgin’s womb without seed, from its first manifestation at the Nativity, when the Son of God in the flesh came forth from the Virgin’s womb without corruption.  (p. 106)

 

The name of the Mother of God is found on almost every page of the Byzantine liturgical books.  In every sacrament and office, in the celebration of each mystery of Christ’s life, the Panagia (“All-Holy One”) is present, in and with the Church, interceding, contemplating, and adoring.  Her bearing of the Father’s consubstantial Son for nine months in her womb is indelibly imprinted on the liturgical consciousness of the East.    (p. 109)

 

In the Akathist hymn of the Byzantine rite, now an indulgence prayer for all Catholics, the Theotokos is praised as the fulfillment of all the sanctuaries of the Old Testament.

 

All who hymn thy childbearing praise thee, Mother of God, as an animate temple, for thy womb dwelt the Lord who holds thee in his hand.  He it was who sanctified thee, glorified thee, and taught all to cry out to thee:

Hail, tabernacle of God and the Word!

Hail, greater holy of holies!

Hail, Spirit-gilded ark!

Hail, treasury of unexhausted life!

 



Saward on Our Lady in Art:

One of the most ancient and best-loved icons of the Byzantine tradition, “Our Lady of Sign,” shows the Theotokos with her hands extended in prayer and with the Holy Child in her womb.  The “sign” is the Virginal Conception and Birth prophesied by Isaiah, “the fifth evangelist”:

 

Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign.  Behold a virgin shall conceive and bear a son: and his name shall be Emmanuel.  (Isa. 7:14)

 

The Child visible in the womb is the pre-eternal God…The perpetual virginity of God’s Mother is marked by the three stars on her veil, two on her shoulder and one above her brow.  Before and in Jesus’ birth, and forever after, Mary is Virgin.  (p. 112)

 

Images of Jesus in his Mother’s womb are also found in the West.  For example, there is the relief carved by Bartolomeo Buon in the middle of the fifteenth century for the tympanum over the principal doorway of the Scuolo vecchia di Santa Maria della Misericordia in Venice.  Our Lady covers the kneeling members of the Guild of Mercy with her cloak.  The Infant Jesus, his hand raised in blessing, is enthroned within a mandorla in the center of the Virgin’s body.  In the Madonna del Parto of Piero della Francesca, painted in about 1460, the expectant Virgin stands motionless in regal dignity.  Her left hand is on her hip.  Her right points to her womb.  On either side, angels hold back heavy velvet drapes.  They veil and guard the awful mystery.  (p.  114)

 


Friday, March 5, 2021

Faith Filled Friday: The Madonna Advocata

I had never heard of this icon, and I thought I knew a lot about the Dominican Order, the Order of Preachers.  The story goes back 800 years ago when on February 28th, 1221 St. Dominic de Guzmán established a monastery of nuns in Rome.  From the Catholic News Agency, "St. Dominic entrusted this Marian icon to nuns in Rome 800 years ago":  

Eight hundred years ago, a barefoot St. Dominic carried an icon of the Virgin Mary across Rome to entrust the Marian image to a new community of cloistered nuns, who have safeguarded the icon within the walls of their convent to this day.

 

The icon, known as the “Advocata,” can be found today in a small chapel on Rome’s highest hill, in the Church of Santa Maria del Rosario on Monte Mario.

The image is absolutely stunning.  Here is the entire image, which has been damaged.

 

Miraculously the face has not been damaged, and it’s well worth cropping that part of the painting.

 

My goodness, what a stately, beautiful face.  Who and when was it painted?  Apparently it “dates back to at least the 7th century and has been revered over the centuries as having been painted by St. Luke.”  I’m not sure how it could be dated to the 7th century and be painted by St. Luke, but it says “at least the 7th century,” so who knows. 

I find it amazing that this community of nuns have kept the icon in their possession for 800 years.  According to the article they have moved twice in those years, but careful to preserve the icon.  If the procession took place in February of 1221and St. Dominic died in August of that year, so it was six months before he passed away.  So I went looking through my St. Dominic biographies for this event.  I couldn’t find anything but I was looking toward the end of the biographies since it happened toward the end of his life.  But one of my Lay Dominican sisters found it in the Augusta Theodosia Drane biography, detailed in pages 112 through 117.  Let me quote some key passages.

 

The most refractory of these religious [sisters] were some who were living at the time in the monastery of Santa Maria in Trastevere, in which was kept a celebrated picture of our Blessed Lady, said to have been painted by St. Luke.  This picture was a particular favorite with the Roman people.  Tradition said that it had been brought to Rome, many centuries before, from Constantinople; that it was the same that had been borne processionally by St, Gregory in the time of the plague, on that Easter day when the words of the Regina Caeli were first heard sung overhead by the voices of the angelic choirs.  After that Sergius III had caused it to be placed in the Lateran Basilica, but in the middle of the night it found its own way back to the majestic old church which seemed its chosen resting place.  The possession of this picture was no inconsiderable addition to the power and popularity of the nuns; without it they were determined never to stir, and there seemed great difficulties in the way of removing it.  (Drane, 112-3)

 

Quotes taken from The Life of Saint Dominic by Augusta Theodosia Drane, sixth edition, Tan Books, Charlotte, North Carolina, 1988.  [First published in 1857, London]

 

Well, that’s quite a story of movement, from Constantinople to Rome to the nuns to the Lateran Basilica and then miraculously back to the nuns.  But Dominic proposed and convinced the nuns to relocate to the convent of St. Sixtus, associated with the Basilica of St.Sixtus, a Roman basilica dating back to the seventh century.  One of St. Dominic’s most notable charism was his power of speech and persuasion, and it was evident here.  Thinking on my engineering work, St. Dominic would have been a great project manager and leader.  The story continues onto Ash Wednesday, which in 1221 fell on February 28th.


On Ash Wednesday, which fell that year on the 28th of February, the cardinals assembled at St. Sixtus, wither the Abbess and her nuns also proceeded in solemn procession.  (115)

And later,

 

Four days after, on the first Sunday in Lent, the nuns took possession of their convent.  They were forty-four in all, including a few seculars, and some religious of other convents.  (116)

But the painting was still not at St. Sixtus.

 

Dominic waited until nightfall before he ventured to remove the picture so often named; he feared lest some excitement and disturbance might be caused by this being done in broad day, for the people of the city felt a jealous unwillingness to suffer it to depart.  However at midnight, accompanied by the two cardinals Nicholas and Stephen and many other persons, all barefoot and carrying torches, he conducted it in solemn procession to St. Sixtus, where the nuns awaited its approach with similar marks of respect.  It did not return; and its quiet domestication in the new house completed the settlement of the nuns.  They were soon after joined by twenty-one others from various other houses, and thus was formed the second house of religious women living under the rule of St. Dominic.  (117)

So the story in the book differs somewhat from the article.  Nonetheless a beautiful and historic painting with quite a story.

By the way, I posted on the book, The Life of Saint Dominic, when I first read the biography two years ago.  

Friday, September 9, 2016

Faith Filled Friday: The Holy Spirit’s Fire by St. Catherine of Siena

The August 2016 edition of Magnificat magazine had this wonderful quote from a letter St. Catherine of Siena wrote.  It doesn’t say who the recipient of the letter is (my guess it’s Raymond of Capua, her friend and confessor), but obviously a male.  It’s not clear what the context is either but Catherine is urging him to contemplate God’s love, imagined as a burning and consuming fire.

So I want you, my son, to open your mind’s eye and focus it on Christ crucified, for he is the fountain where we can drink to the full, drawing from him sweet loving desires.  These are the desires I want to pour out on the body of the holy Church for God’s honor and every person’s salvation.  If you do, your words and actions will become like an arrow drawn red-hot out of the fire, that wherever it is shot sets on fire everything it strikes, since it can’t help sharing what it has.  So, son, think of your soul as entering the fiery furnace of divine charity, and love’s power will make you shoot out and share what you have drawn from the fire.

And what have you drawn from God in this way?  Hatred and contempt for yourself, and love for virtue, and hunger for the salvation of souls and the honor of the eternal Father; for that is all that is found in this gentle Word.  You see, it was for hunger that he died.  So intense was that hunger that the force of love produced a sweat not of water but of drops of blood.  How could a heart be so hard and stubborn as not to burst with emotion from the warmth and heat of this fire.  Contemplating it, we can only be flax stubble thrown into the fire; it can’t help burning, since it is the nature of fire to burn and to transform into itself whatever comes near it.  So we, when we contemplate our Creator’s love, are drawn at once to love him and turn our affection completely to him.  In him all the dampness of selfishness is dried up, and we take on the likeness of the Holy Spirit’s fire.


Look at what a marvelous, natural poet she was: our selfishness is dried up so that we become dried stubble, ready to be consumed by the Holy Spirit’s fire.  And then notice how it connects with the previous paragraph: a person so consumed with the Holy Spirit is like a red-hot arrow setting fire to everything it strikes.  The little lady from Siena, who was uneducated, was a genius.    


PS: I really love that icon of St. Catherine.  I've seen a number of icons portraying her, and this is the best one.  It shows her stigmata, the lilies of virginity, the book showing she is a Doctor of the Church, her Dominican garments, and the crown of thorns which I think stands for the suffering she endured.  Plus I like the way her face and halo around her head are drawn.  I would consider buying this if it were available for purchase. 

Sunday, April 3, 2016

Art: The Divine Mercy Painting by Eugeniusz Kazimirowski [Updated]

Today is Divine Mercy Sunday, the Sunday so instituted by St. Pope John Paul II.  The idea traces back to a young Polish woman who has become one of the great saints of the 20th century, St. Maria Faustina Kowalska.  In honor of this occasion I would like to present and examine the great painting that St. Faustina commissioned to have painted based on her visions of Christ coming to her.  There are many versions which have cropped up since the original was painted back in 1934, but it is the original painting, painted by Eugeniusz Kazimirowski, that transcends. 




Last Thursday I had the great privilege to attend at my Church a private screening of a documentary on the making of the painting (“The Original Image of Divine Mercy: A Documentary”) and its convoluted history afterwards.  The death of St. Faustina in 1938, the death of the painter in 1939, the Nazi invasion, World War II, the Soviet occupation, and the communist repression of religion all caused the painting to be forgotten, abandoned, and then stored in an attic exposed to outdoor temperatures.  It is a remarkable history, which you can read here, but if you have the chance to see this wonderful documentary, do so.  Here is a movie trailer of it.






So while the original painting fell into obscurity, other painters tried their hand at St. Faustina’s description in her diary of the Christ of her visions, and their paintings took root in the culture.  That is why there are so many versions.  Of particular note is the 1943 version by Adolf Hyla, which you can see on the Wikipedia entry for the Divine Mercy image.  For me the Hyla version is most definitely inferior.  It’s less iconography and more like a cover art for a pop culture magazine.  The right hand is raised less in blessing and more in salutation; Christ’s face is Hollywoodish, the eyes don’t seem to convey mercy, and the head tilt makes Christ seem more like a buddy than God.  The more I look at the Hyla version, the more I’m turned off.

So why am I so attracted to the original Kazimirowski version? 

First, it’s restrained.  The simplicity of every element accentuates the message.  There is very little implied motion.  The right hand is fixed in position of blessing; the feet have come to a stop, though the position suggests that Christ has come forward.  The tunic hangs still, suggesting stasis.  The only motion is reserved for the left hand peeling open the lip on the tunic at the heart, letting forth divine light. 

Second, the right arm is in a position of balance and blessing.  It is directly level with the left arm, with the hand up in blessing.  Balance seems so important to the structure of the painting.  The light from the half opened lap reflects off the right hand, glowing in benediction.

Third, the dark background from which Christ comes forth is so suggestive.  One can read it as the darkness of evil and sin, or perhaps the darkness of pre-creation, or perhaps the darkness of everlasting damnation.  If the darkness contrasts behind Christ, then the bright figure of Jesus is the light of the world, the light of salvation, the light of mercy.

Fourth, the eye of the viewer is drawn in toward the light from the heart.  The lines all lead one to Christ’s heart.  The light is bright, natural, and mixed with red, suggesting the blood and water that flowed from Christ’s side.  It is not over done and completely realistic in the way it points downward as the opening from the garment flap lifts from the bottom.


Fifth, Christ’s face is perfection.  It is His face that captures me.  It is a remarkable work of realism.  The hair and the beard are so humble.  Hair can suggest ego and preening.  Not here.  The beard is scraggly, the hair thin and modestly placed.  It is a peasant’s face, not one of royalty.  The eyes are looking down.  This might be the most remarkable feature of the painting.  The eyes are not looking into the viewer’s eyes.  They are not probing you.  It is not a moment of judgement.  It is a moment of mercy, of understanding.  Here is a detail of the head to mid body. 



 The documentary said that when Kazimirowski completed the painting, St. Faustina cried, not because he had captured her vision, but because she realized it was impossible to capture it.  In a way, the painting was a collaboration between Kazimirowski, St. Faustina, and St. Faustina’s spiritual director who modeled for the Christ, Fr. Michał Sopoćko.  Every week Faustina would come to the studio and have Kazimirowski rearrange in an effort to capture her visions.  It must have been difficult for the painter to have this intense young woman stipulating her vision and forcing change upon change.  However, the final product is a masterpiece.

Jesus, I trust in you.

Update April 5th, 8:09 AM:
Great article by Paul Jaskunas in First Things Magazine on St. Faustina, the documentary, and the painting, here.