Faces of the human heart

This image magnifies two faces of the human heart in Lucas Cranach’s painting, Christ and the Adulteress, found in Bishop Erik Varden’s piece, 5 Sunday of Lent. Front and center we see one face with a terrible, smug smile and a large sharp rock at the ready in his right hand. His eagerness to hurl it into soft flesh leaps off the painting. This face personifies libido dominandi: that chilling phrase of Saint Augustine’s:

This lust for domination, as what drives life—or more accurately from Augustine’s view, destroys it—is motivated by service to the self and want to control everything: control what is good, control what is “fact” or “true”, control how others behave, control who receives laurels and praise, and so forth. This lust for domination runs counter to the ethic of service of others (love of others). The libido dominandi is tied to the incurvatus in se (inward curve to the self) for the lust for domination is all about the self: The self’s want for domination of the world and all in it.

Contrast that terrible face with the taller white-haired one on the right. His is a face that radiates restraint, self-control and freedom from judgement. In fact, his right arm and palm are raised, mutely signalling, “Wait!”

When we gaze at Cranach’s entire painting below, we may miss these faces of the human heart. Our gaze is rightly drawn to Jesus and the woman–noting that Jesus securely holds her right forearm, while one of her accusers grasps her left.

The readings of these last days of Lent reveal the awful face of lust. So much worse in those claiming to be godly. Like the elders whose lies about the righteous, innocent Susanna are sickeningly persuasive. And our anonymous woman found in the very act of adultery.

Oh, how we love situations like these, when we’re confident we’re on the side of right! How we love to invoke high principles in aid of our self-righteousness! High principles are indispensable for the construction of a just society, of course; but they do not on their own guarantee justice. They call for just execution. Even sublime standards can be instrumentalised, and infested, by human wickedness or spite. 

5 Sunday of Lent

Bishop Erik Varden,

in his piece, Stone Ready, suggests we use Cranach’s painting in our consciousness examen

I am struck by this man, lustfully ready with a hatful of stones to throw at the woman denounced, with a sharp-edged one set in his right hand. He is clearly more than happy to be the first to step forward; he will not have been among the first to go away (8.9). The stupidity of judgemental vengefulness, the deformity wrought by this passion, is written on his features, which stand out in contrast to those of the venerable white-bearded elder at his left elbow whose hand is raised in a gesture of caution. Is there a trace of such violence in my heart?

Stone Read

It’s Palm Sunday and He rides into Jerusalem amidst lavish, unrestrained, almost unanimous exaltation.

Slowly-on the colt of a donkey.

So many details here, in this story.

Why a colt?

So that a fully grown adult male on the colt prefigures the excruciating burden He will soon carry?

To assure that these faces, now adoring, soon to turn vicious as they scream, “Crucify Him!”,  to the ones who know His innocence, perhaps even sense that “Something greater than Solomon  is here” but who lack the courage to defy the mob and confess the Truth that stands before them can see clearly this face…these eyes?

The story is familiar in the telling, isn’t it?

Maybe too familiar. It’s a very long Mass and the only one where we parishioners participate in proclaiming the Gospel.

Our part?

To mock, along with Peter, to deny and most terribly, shout,

“Crucify him!””

Why do we do this each year?

Maybe to look at our sin through the eyes of God?

Looking at our sin through the eyes of God

Has the shock worn off?

…even if, by now, the shock wears thin perhaps because we emphasize the divinity of Christ over his humanity, there should be enough sorrow for us to wonder if there is anyway we could ease such horrific and prolonged agony.

As a matter of fact there is; and this is the main reason why the Church keeps turning Palm Sunday into a day marked by distinct peculiarities. 

Intentionally she contrasts the triumphant cheers and hosannas of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the shouts of “crucify him, crucify him” uttered, perhaps, by the very same people.

This contrast is the story of our life: the modest acclamation of Jesus as our divine Master here in church might be followed by an embarrassing mixture of selfishness, broken promises, lackluster performance during the week. 

The contrast, perhaps, is not that clear and striking to us. We see ourselves as decent people, as Catholics in good standing. Indeed we are good people.

The Church, though, would like us to see reality with the eyes of God, at least on this day, Palm Sunday.

In the eyes of God sin is sin, is sin. 

From the biggest to the slightest, any sin is an affront to His majesty and a self-inflicted wound undermining the soul slowly, even imperceptibly, or quite aggressively with a frontal, mortal attack. 

Any sin, big and small alike, has also uncontrollable, horrific consequences affecting even the most innocent of children.

Therefore, the traces of shock still lingering after today’s reading of the Passion narrative should suffice to help us resolve, with distinct decisiveness, to do two things.

To look at any sin with God’s eyes, counting on His grace to resist even the fiercest temptations.

And to keep the eyes and the ears of our heart wide open before the pain that we witness all around ourselves; it is the pain which the Body of Christ endures around the clock.

We should not forget that a part of it is, for sure, the result of our sins, and we should ask the Lord to tell us what we are expected to do to alleviate it.

If, with the help of the Holy Spirit, we can work hard and with a good inner disposition on these two fronts we will live a profitable Holy Week and we will increase our hope in the share of glory that Jesus, our Lord, has reserved for each one of us. 

Seeing Reality With the Eyes of God