The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Although I am an ordained deacon of the Catholic Church, the opinions expressed in this blog are my personal opinions. In offering these personal opinions I am not acting as a representative of the Church or any Church organization.

Showing posts with label Lamb of God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lamb of God. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Historic Photoshopping

Every so often I encounter a story that just amazes me, usually because it reveals something so unexpected, so strange that I’m compelled to dig into it more deeply simply to overcome my inherent disbelief. 

I offer here a perfect example...but let me preface my comments by stressing that I am, by no stretch of anyone’s imagination, an art expert. I’m not even an amateur student of the fine arts. I’m just another among the hoi polloi who knows what he likes when it comes to art.

The story begins in Ghent, Belgium back in the early 15th century when an artist, Hubert van Eyck, was commissioned to create an altarpiece for St. Bavo’s Cathedral. Although Hubert designed and began painting the elaborate piece, he died before finishing the work. His brother, Jan, continued the work which took over 12 years to complete. To say the altarpiece is iconic would be a gross understatement. It is universally considered to be one of the world’s great artistic masterpieces. I’ve included a photo of the twelve interior panels of the altarpiece below. Because the altarpiece is hinged, there’s also an outer group of panels, but our story is focused on the larger, more elaborate paintings of the interior panels depicted here. (Click image to see larger version.)

The top seven panels depict the heavenly realm, centered on Christ the King, with the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist at His side. They in turn are flanked by angelic choirs and finally by Adam and Eve, who in their nakedness look very guilty indeed.

At the center of the lower five panels is the largest painting, the Adoration of the Lamb, depicting Jesus as the Lamb of God shedding His blood into the chalice on the altar. He is surrounded and worshipped by a large collection of people representing various sectors of humanity: sinners, saints, clergy, soldiers, royals, etc. The below image shows the lamb on the altar.

Some years ago it was decided to perform a complete restoration of the altarpiece. (The above close-up of the Lamb is post-restoration.) The three-phased restoration began in 2002 and was partially completed earlier this year. Phase three of the restoration will commence soon. As always happens with art restorations, some “experts” were appalled by the results. And that certainly happened with the Ghent Altarpiece restoration. Although the complaints were wide-ranging, much of the criticism focused on the figure of the Lamb of God in the large, central, lower panel. I’ve included below a close-up photo comparing the before and after look of the Lamb. (Click on the image to enlarge.)


The difference between the two is striking. On the left, we have the “before” version, a rather natural, placid looking, very sheep-like face. The contrast between it and the restored version is obvious. The restored Lamb of God presents us with an almost human face — the penetrating look in the eyes, the mouth with its full lips, the overall expression. Some of the harshest of the critics have called it “cartoonish” and complained that the restorers actually repainted the face, changing it from its original to this oddly anthropomorphic version.  

Well, guess what? It seems the only “repainting” took place long ago, and the restorers actually got it right. The scientific evidence — and I won’t bore you (or myself) with the details of how they do these things — shows that the painting had undergone a number of earlier “restorations” that really were over-paintings designed to alter the face of the Lamb. Helene Dubois, head of the restoration project, suggested that the original Lamb, with its nearly human face, and its penetrating, almost accusatory stare, might have been too much for those of later generations who encountered its expression every day. It was, therefore, over-painted to reflect more closely the “tastes” of later times. As the restoration progressed, the restorers were able to remove the successive over-paintings and uncover the original seen on the right above. According to the conservators, over 70% of the original panels were hidden or altered in a 1550 over-painting; and that’s 125  years after the van Eyck brothers’ original. 

I found this truly amazing. We think of photoshopping — the alteration of an image in a way that intentionally distorts reality — as a very modern, digital technique to make Aunt Alice look a little younger, a bit thinner than she really is. But here we see the same process applied to one of the world’s great artistic masterpieces by those who apparently thought the Lamb of God should be softened so He’d look more sheep-like, less human, and certainly less sacrificial. I guess "fake news" is nothing new. 

Why this was done we can only guess. Because of the timing, I suspect it’s related to the Reformation. The statues and other artwork of several of Ghent's Catholic churches were defaced or destroyed during those days, so perhaps the Lamb on the altar was perceived as simply too Catholic to be left as is. Repainting it as more sheep-like would make it more symbolic and less sacramental, less Eucharistic. The altarpiece may have been spared more serious damage because it was so highly regarded, so beautiful, and a valued part of Belgian heritage. But that's just my uneducated view and I may well be totally wrong.

Anyway, the altarpiece is being restored to its original state, giving us a far more accurate depiction of the faith of Belgians in 1425.   

Monday, August 31, 2015

Homily: The Passion of St. John the Baptist (August 29)


Readings: 1 Thes 4:9-11; Ps 98; Mk 6:17-29

Today we celebrate the passion or martyrdom of John the Baptist, the one whom Jesus called the greatest of all men, the greatest of prophets.

I suspect that most of us really don't think very much about John the Baptist, and John's probably very happy that we don't. After all, in his humility, a humility rarely duplicated, he considered himself no more than a sign pointing away from himself, pointing the way to Jesus: "He must increase; I must decrease" [Jn 3:30].

John focused solely on Jesus: in his birth and his life, even in his death. John's birth and life were a signal to humanity, an announcement: the Lord is coming; be prepared. Indeed, John announced the Lord's coming even before he was born. As Luke tells us, when a pregnant Mary traveled to Judea and approached Elizabeth. who was also expecting a son, John leaped in his mother's womb, greeting the unborn Jesus [Lk 1:41].


Elizabeth and Mary Rejoice
Even before birth John was moved by the Holy Spirit to fulfill his life's mission. Some theologian's have suggested that John, at the moment he greeted Jesus, was baptized by the Holy Spirit and, therefore, was born without original sin. Whether or nor this is true, John was still called to announce the Lord's presence from the very beginning.

At his birth John's father, Zechariah, proclaimed that his son will be "prophet of the Most High, for you will go before the Lord to prepare His ways" [Lk 1:76]. And so, John's life was totally committed to preparing the world for Jesus, the Lamb of God, preaching the baptism of repentance. 

Imagine if you can the extraordinary impression the figure and message of John the Baptist made in Jerusalem’s highly charged atmosphere. Many Jews must have thought, “At last we have a prophet again.” What a furor he must have raised. Consumed by his mission to prepare God’s chosen people for the arrival of their Messiah, He roused them from their complacency and turned them from their petty concerns to the things of God.

In his Gospel, Mark makes John’s impact clear: People of the whole Judean countryside and all the inhabitants of Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the Jordan River as they acknowledged their sins” [Mk 1:5].

“…all the inhabitants of Jerusalem…”  Not a few, not a lot, but all. Yes, John had a tremendous impact. He could have claimed to be the Messiah and started a major uprising, exactly what many Jews sought. This alone was reason enough for Herod to lock him up. How did Mark put it? “Herod feared John, knowing him to be a righteous and holy man, and kept him in custody” [Mk 6:20].

Humility, righteousness and holiness were foreign to Herod. And because he couldn’t understand John, He feared him. Fear always accompanies power because the powerful fear that which threatens their power. Yes, Herod feared John’s popularity.

But before John was imprisoned, while he was still baptizing in the Jordan, Jesus came to him and allowed John to baptize Him, an event that signaled Jesus’ public ministry. This was also John’s sign to step aside, to send his disciples away, pointing to the Lamb of God [Jn 1:29].
"Behold, the Lamb of God"
“…the Lamb of God” were words that must have had an amazing effect on the people. After all every day lambs were being sacrificed in the Temple. But here was John, pointing at Jesus and calling Him God’s Lamb, the One who would be sacrificed for the sins of all. How this must have shocked those first-century Jews.

Jesus takes John's disciples  and turns them into saints, into miracle workers, into tireless missionaries, into priests of the New Covenant. John is the voice because Jesus is the Word. John would die in Herod's prison at the whim of a spoiled daughter, a conniving wife, and a weak, drunken king. And yet, he knew his death was necessary, for only in death could he truly decrease, only in death could he ensure the Jesus would increase.

The Beheading of St. John the Baptist
That, brothers and sisters, is the measure of John's life. He decreased to the point that he had nothing to say for himself and everything to say for Jesus. In losing his life, John found his life. He disappeared into greatness, just as Jesus promised.

But Jesus also says "the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he" [Mt 11:11]. What a beautiful reminder for us -- to remember our dignity as baptized Christians, For we are called to share God's life through baptism and the gift of God's grace. Of course, this demands that we live according to our dignity.

Are our lives like John’s, an offering to God? God wants to fill us with His glory all the days of our lives. Like John, we too were chosen by God before we were born, chosen to proclaim God’s goodness through our lives.


Allow yourself to be touched deeply by God’s love for you. Resolve to live today out of love for God, and like John, carry this Good News wherever you go.