Giving Sight to the Blind
The altarpiece in Christian art
Christian art has a long history, stretching back to inscriptions in the Roman catacombs and reaching forward to modern marvels like The Saint John’s Bible. Artwork is often used to give materiality to that which cannot be seen, to provoke our imagination into contemplation of things beyond our experience. Perhaps the pinnacle of this usage is the altarpiece, most prominent during the middle of the last millennium. The altarpiece is a work of art, yes, but it is also a work of theology, constructed in a way to prompt us, the viewers, to contemplate the mysteries of Christ, particularly regarding the Eucharist, which makes truly present the invisible form of God.
The Last Judgment
One of the most famous altarpieces is Michelangelo’s fresco of The Last Judgment in the Vatican’s Sistine Chapel. Surrounding the triumphant Jesus at the center are a multitude of figures who are noticeably nude. Some are carried upward, others are dragged downward — Christ’s vindication comes for all, who will be separated like sheep and goats. At the top of the altarpiece, the Cross and the Pillar are held high, signs of God’s merciful love and Christ’s victory over death and suffering.
But remember, this isn’t a stand-alone piece of art — it is one placed over the altar. It is meant to be seen in context: within the Eucharistic celebration, so as to open our eyes to the mysteries of Christ. The illuminated Jesus at the center remains constant while the other figures are in dramatic motion around him. The Eucharist is the center of liturgical life, the sacrament that shapes us into the people of God. But also in the Eucharist we consume our own judgment — we, too, are separated like sheep and goats. Approaching the sacrament at the altar, we stare right at eye-level into our own deserved Hell. While this forces us to consider the ramifications of receiving in sin, it also forces us to look upwards to Christ the Redeemer, who is all-just, but who is also all-merciful. The Eucharist is a judgment but is in perhaps a greater sense the means by which we are spared judgment and brought into eternal life. Trusting in God’s loving mercy, we can see our own suffering, our cross and scourging pillar, as redemptive, brought before Christ at the sacrificial altar.
Altarpiece of the Holy Blood
A second well-known altarpiece is Tilman Reimanschneider’s Altarpiece of the Holy Blood, finished in 1505 and located in Rothenberg, Germany. Its name comes from its construction to contain a relic of the Holy Blood, held by two angels above the central panel. Whereas the Last Judgment is a singular image, this altarpiece juxtaposes three scenes from the life of Jesus, particularly in relation to the relic it contains: from left to right, the entry into Jerusalem, the Last Supper, and the Agony in the Garden.
The eucharistic overtones of this image are much more pronounced, but again, the artwork prompts us to consider the Eucharist in a particular way; in this case, with careful attention to the shedding of Christ’s blood. In the left panel, we see Jesus’s entry into Jerusalem, like the lamb led for slaughter on the Temple Mount. This event begins his passion. In the center panel is the Last Supper, but interestingly Jesus is not the focus. Rather, it is Judas who takes center stage, reminding us of our own sin that brings about Christ’s free choice to suffer for us — in the Exsultet, “O happy fault that earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!” or in Paul’s letter, “Where sin increased, grace overflowed all the more” (Rom. 5:20). We ourselves as sinners are intricately involved in this eucharistic drama. In the right panel, we see the Agony, at which, we are told by Luke (or a later editor), “He was in such agony and he prayed so fervently that his sweat became like drops of blood falling on the ground” (Lk. 22:44). This shedding of blood-like sweat is a precursor to the shedding of blood on Calvary. As we receive the Eucharist, we are called to remember the suffering that Jesus endures and the obedience to God that the Eucharist demands, not only of Jesus but of us as well.
In one last point, I’d like to address the fruit-bearing vines present across all panels. There are many ways we could interpret these vines. Of course, the Eucharistic species is the “fruit of the vine and work of human hands,” and so the depiction of vines pulls us even more into the sacramental — conferred through matter — presence of Christ in the Eucharist. These vines could also be those from which the Crown of Thorns was woven, again bringing us to see the mystery of Christ’s blood shed for us. Third, it could point to the statement of Christ in John 15: “ I AM the True Vine.” By partaking in the Eucharistic Blood of Christ, we become rooted in Christ. And finally, building upon this last theme, we can interpret these vines and their connection this image through the loosely-translated statement attributed to Tertullian, “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church.” In anticipation of the shedding of his own blood, Christ founds the Church at the Last Supper. In the partaking of the Eucharist and by the shedding of blood in conformity to Christ, the martyrs and all Christian saints continue to this day to build the Church anew in union with Christ the True Vine, bearing in abundance the Fruit of the Spirit.
