Getting Out of the Way
“He must increase, but I must decrease.” (John the Baptist, to his disciples, speaking about Jesus. John 3:30)
John the Baptist’s disciples came to him with the report that Jesus, whom John had baptized just a short time before, was now baptizing his own followers. There is some concern being expressed by John’s disciples in reporting this. But John assures them that this is the way it must be. It was his purpose, he told them, to have been the one to announce the Messiah’s coming. Now, “He must increase, but I must decrease.”
Those were difficult words for John to say. He is stepping out of the lime-light and into, as far as he knew, historical obscurity. We know that soon after this encounter, he would be arrested by King Herod, and later executed, for daring to say publicly that Herod and his cronies were sinners. His historical role turned out to be anything but obscure. In fact, John the Baptist has been the favorite subject of many writers and painters through history.
One of my favorite paintings that involves the Baptist is one by Matthius Grϋnewald. Grϋnewald, a German, was commissioned by the monks of St. Anthony’s monastery near Isenheim, France. It was to be placed in their hospital chapel, and was completed in 1515. It is known as The Isenheim Altarpiece, and is painted on three sections of wood, which fold out into a triptych. Underneath the three panels, there is a fourth. When it is fully opened, it is quite large- 8’9” x 4’7”.
The hospital at St. Anthony’s was operated by the brothers there specifically for victims of a very nasty skin disease called, at the time, St. Anthony’s Fire. It is now known as ergotism, and is caused by a fungus- ergot- which grows on wheat. It was, at the time, almost always fatal.
Grϋnewald’s painting was startling when it was unveiled, because it depicted Christ in pain, twisted on the cross and his skin covered with many open sores. At a time when Renaissance painters had begun idealizing the human body, Grϋnewald had painted a very Gothic painting full of disproportions and ugliness.
The patients at the hospital embraced the painting. They saw and understood a Christ that was like them. He was not far away; he was not an ideal that was distant from them any longer. They knew this Jesus; he suffered as they were suffering. When they cried out to him in pain, they knew he could hear them.
Religious painters at the time were painting sermons for that majority of people who were illiterate. In this altarspiece, the patients at St. Anthony’s were given a view of Christ’s suffering by Grϋnewald very similar to Mel Gibson’s view of Christ in last year’s “The Passion of the Christ.”
Other figures also populate the central scene, including John the Baptist, who is seen standing to the right of the cross pointing to Christ with very long fingers. The words of the scripture at the top of this page are part of the painting, too (just behind his hand). His message of “decreasing, as Christ increases” became the central message of the painting to those who saw it. Their suffering, could be absorbed in the suffering of Christ. Their eventual relief from pain, had been made possible by his pain.
Other characters in the painting are Mary, the mother, in the arms of the Apostle John, and Mary, the Magdalene, at the foot of the cross. A small, wounded Lamb is at the Baptist’s feet, another symbol of the true identity of the suffering figure on the cross.
John the Baptist, of course, had been dead for several years by the time Christ was crucified. His role in the painting is more like that of a host or instructor, pointing toward the meaning of the scene. Interestingly, this painting was finished just two years before Martin Luther began his break with the Church. Both Grϋnewald’s and Luther’s messages were the same, however: all people have direct access to a Christ who is like them, who suffers with them and knows them, but who is also God.
A God who gives all people the freedom to become small beside him..
John the Baptist’s disciples came to him with the report that Jesus, whom John had baptized just a short time before, was now baptizing his own followers. There is some concern being expressed by John’s disciples in reporting this. But John assures them that this is the way it must be. It was his purpose, he told them, to have been the one to announce the Messiah’s coming. Now, “He must increase, but I must decrease.”
Those were difficult words for John to say. He is stepping out of the lime-light and into, as far as he knew, historical obscurity. We know that soon after this encounter, he would be arrested by King Herod, and later executed, for daring to say publicly that Herod and his cronies were sinners. His historical role turned out to be anything but obscure. In fact, John the Baptist has been the favorite subject of many writers and painters through history.
One of my favorite paintings that involves the Baptist is one by Matthius Grϋnewald. Grϋnewald, a German, was commissioned by the monks of St. Anthony’s monastery near Isenheim, France. It was to be placed in their hospital chapel, and was completed in 1515. It is known as The Isenheim Altarpiece, and is painted on three sections of wood, which fold out into a triptych. Underneath the three panels, there is a fourth. When it is fully opened, it is quite large- 8’9” x 4’7”.
The hospital at St. Anthony’s was operated by the brothers there specifically for victims of a very nasty skin disease called, at the time, St. Anthony’s Fire. It is now known as ergotism, and is caused by a fungus- ergot- which grows on wheat. It was, at the time, almost always fatal.
Grϋnewald’s painting was startling when it was unveiled, because it depicted Christ in pain, twisted on the cross and his skin covered with many open sores. At a time when Renaissance painters had begun idealizing the human body, Grϋnewald had painted a very Gothic painting full of disproportions and ugliness.
The patients at the hospital embraced the painting. They saw and understood a Christ that was like them. He was not far away; he was not an ideal that was distant from them any longer. They knew this Jesus; he suffered as they were suffering. When they cried out to him in pain, they knew he could hear them.
Religious painters at the time were painting sermons for that majority of people who were illiterate. In this altarspiece, the patients at St. Anthony’s were given a view of Christ’s suffering by Grϋnewald very similar to Mel Gibson’s view of Christ in last year’s “The Passion of the Christ.”
Other figures also populate the central scene, including John the Baptist, who is seen standing to the right of the cross pointing to Christ with very long fingers. The words of the scripture at the top of this page are part of the painting, too (just behind his hand). His message of “decreasing, as Christ increases” became the central message of the painting to those who saw it. Their suffering, could be absorbed in the suffering of Christ. Their eventual relief from pain, had been made possible by his pain.
Other characters in the painting are Mary, the mother, in the arms of the Apostle John, and Mary, the Magdalene, at the foot of the cross. A small, wounded Lamb is at the Baptist’s feet, another symbol of the true identity of the suffering figure on the cross.
John the Baptist, of course, had been dead for several years by the time Christ was crucified. His role in the painting is more like that of a host or instructor, pointing toward the meaning of the scene. Interestingly, this painting was finished just two years before Martin Luther began his break with the Church. Both Grϋnewald’s and Luther’s messages were the same, however: all people have direct access to a Christ who is like them, who suffers with them and knows them, but who is also God.
A God who gives all people the freedom to become small beside him..
posted by D.Barry Weber at 9:43 AM
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