Art Essay,
Sister
Wendy's Meditations on the
Mysteries of Our Faith
Mysteries of Our Faith
FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER
APPARITIONS BEHIND
CLOSED DOORS
This is a very rare subject in art. Many painters have been attracted to the drama of Jesus appearing to Thomas to challenge his unbelief, but hardly any to the previous apparition when Jesus comes to his own in the upper room, Thomas being absent, and they have the first living proof that what the women have been saying–that unbelievable story–is actually true. John's Gospel emphasizes that the apostles were still very frightened. Enemies had killed Jesus, and they could well decide to do away with his followers also. They seem to be hiding out in the upper room, and they have the doors securely locked. The first indication that Jesus has not only risen but that this is a transcended Jesus comes from his heavenly ability to pass through closed doors.
Duccio obviously found the dynamics of this encounter fascinating. The locked doors are barred behind our Lord, and he stands framed by them. But his friends scatter to either side of the room aghast. No wonder that his first words are: "Peace be with you," and that a little later he has to repeat it. Saint John tells us that they were "overjoyed," but it is clearly a joy so "over," so enormous, that as yet their emotions are too limited to feel it. Frankly, they withdraw, trembling, the whites of their eyes very visible. Hands are raised in wonder, fear, reverence. They are speechless; they do not know where to put themselves. Soon Jesus will call notice to his wounds, the holy stigmata that make it inescapable that this is the very body that suffered on the cross. But Duccio is concerned with the first breathless moment when Jesus appears.
Living in the Present
It is all so familiar to us: we know what will come next and when the appearances will end (Ascension Thursday). We know how Peter, the gray-haired man on the left, with curls and a short beard, will grow in stature and become Saint Peter, the first pope. We know that young John, on the right, will write the most sublime of all the gospels and be the only apostle not to die a martyr's death. But they who were there could only live in the present, and what they were asked to do in that present was to look at Jesus and accept him.
Essentially, this is what God asks of us too. Our encounter may not be terrifying: easier perhaps if it were! God may offer the reality of his presence to us slowly, throughout a lifetime. We have been taught the doctrines of our faith, we have been helped to receive the sacraments, we have been in the congregation Sunday after Sunday for the homily. If we are sensible, we have read more about the faith now that we are adults: childhood instruction is all too often misremembered, or even inadequate. We should, unless we have been lazy, have a solid structure of intellectual belief. But is this all? Does what we believe affect our daily lives? Is it what guides our decisions? Can those who know tell from how we act that we are followers of Jesus? We can call ourselves Catholic and even come to Mass, and yet our lives may be motivated by exactly the same principles as people whose only driving force is ambition and selfishness. Duccio shows us men being changed, men accepting to be changed. It is the same Jesus who says "Peace" to us, if we would only listen, who says peace and gives peace. He stands in the upper room of our hearts, even if our doors are locked, and asks us to respond
Sister Wendy's Meditations on the Mysteries of Our Faith by Beckett,
Wendy 1 edition (2007) Paperback Jan 0100
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