A Drawing by Saint John of the Cross

The perspective which the Carmelite mystic employs in this drawing accentuates the κατάβασις (katábasis), the descent of Christ in his voluntary humiliation and suffering.

"For let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus: Who being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: But emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being made in the likeness of men, and in habit found as a man. He humbled himself, becoming obedient unto death, even to the death of the cross." -- Philippians 2: 5-8

The Immaculate Conception, painted by El Greco

"God helped her in the early morning light; the Most High sanctified His dwelling." El Greco's masterpiece, with its refulgence of both the sun and the moon, conveys the feeling of this antiphon from 2nd nocturn of the feast. Also this response to the 4th lesson: "I made an unfailing light arise in the heavens." And yet more: ""She is the splendour of the eternal light and the mirror unspotted. For she is more beautiful than the sun, she is purer than light itself." (response to 5th lesson) The painting furthermore contains imagery from a homily by Saint Germain: The ship at lower right alludes to the "port of salvation;" the "fragrant lily and unfading rose;" the "palace wherein is the spiritual bridal chamber;" and the "fountain of flowing waters."

There is a close connection between the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption. Both feasts celebrate the fact that she offered no resistance to divine grace. And El Greco's painting celebrates that connection. Consider the following verses from the Liturgy of the Hours for the Feast of the Assumption: "Mary has been taken up into heaven! The angels are rejoicing;" "The holy Mother of God has been exalted above choirs of angels."

Saint Francis in the Desert, painted by Giovanni Bellini

Bellini records the characteristic geological formations of Alverna, a mountain whose rocks were rent, according to early Franciscan tradition, at the consummation of Christ's Passion (Matt. 27:51). The flora and fauna, however, pertain not so much to Tuscany as to the poetic images in Isaiah, the Psalms, and Job. The painting, like the early Franciscan tradition, is replete with biblical typology. The onager (wild ass) from the book of Job, the nicticorax (here a bittern) and pelicanus solitudinis (here a grey heron) from Psalm 101, typify solitude in the wilderness in Patristic writings. Like Isaac the Syrian, Francis contemplates "the flame of things." Or as Maximus the Confessor writes, "the unspeakable and prodigious fire hidden in the essence of things, as in the bush, is the fire of divine love and the dazzling brilliance of His beauty inside every thing." Francis is, in fact, likened to Moses here. Having come from pasturing his flock (the Franciscan Order) to the mountain, he removes his sandals and gazes at the laurel tree (which was believed to resist burning), as the tree bends under the radiance in the sky at the upper left of the picture. The rabbit (another representative of the hermit in the wilderness) peering out from a hole in the rock, alludes to Moses standing on a rock (Christ) and hidden in a hole in the rock on Horeb, witnessing the Glory of God who passes by (as recounted in Exodus). The whole painting is a visual theophany.

Martyrdom of Saints Cosmas and Damian and Compnions, painted by Beato Angelico

All things work together unto good for them that love God. The theology of Divine Providence shines forth in this composition. For more about art as a witness to Providence, see the essay "Fitly Framed Together" in the Writings section at www.SacredPaintings.org

The Calling of Saint Matthew, painted by Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio

The artist has ingeniously painted the hand of Christ as a mirror image of the hand of Adam in Michelangelo Buonarotti's creation of Adam scene on the Sistine Chapel ceiling. So now the hand which bestows life and summons to service, the hand of God, is also the hand of the Son of Man (Ben-Adam in Hebrew). It is this hand of the Word made Flesh which directs the light -- the light which reveals our sinfulness and makes it possible for us to repent. As Saint Bede the Venerable wrote concerning this event, "Our Lord summoned Matthew by speaking to him in words. By an invisible, interior impulse flooding his mind with the light of grace, he instructed him to walk in his footsteps."

The Birth of the Virgin Mary, painted by Vittore Carpaccio

This painting has a lot of open doorways, passages, and open curtains. These lead to its meaning. Saint Andrew of Crete, in a homily, stresses the liminal aspect of today's feast, the way the event transitions and opens onto the Incarnation of the Lord. In an antiphon from Lauds today we sing (with reference to Isaiah 11: 1-3) "When the most holy Virgin was born, the whole world was made radiant; blessed is the branch and blessed is the stem which bore such holy fruit." The hanging lamp and curtain (a reference to the Holy of Holies in the Temple) disclose a plaque inscribed in Hebrew: "Holy, holy, holy" (the song of the cherubim in the Temple in Isaiah 6); and "Blessed is He who comes in the Name of the Lord." (from Psalm 118, a song of procession to the Altar within the Temple, which song also contains the verse: "This is the Lord's own gate, where the Just One may enter."). All of this shows that the newborn child, Mary, is the Gate of the Lord and the Ark of the Covenant.

Saint Teresa of Calcutta, sculpture by Anthony Visco

In this remarkable bronze portrayal of Mother Teresa, who was canonized yesterday and whose feast we celebrate today, we see the saint's bowed posture. She carries the weight of all the suffering she finds. Lev Gillet remarked that divine love is like an atmospheric pressure to which a saint is always sensitive. The Hebrew word "kavod' means both glory and weight, the weight of glory. The extraordinary lightness in Mother Teresa's face (shown here in a detail photo of the sculptor's clay rendition prior to casting in bronze) likewise manifests her closeness to Christ, with whom she bears this weight of love. As Saint Francis de Sales says, "love either takes away the hardship of labor, or makes it dear to us while we feel it." In Anthony Visco's sculpture, the eloquent gesture of Mothers hands extends God's mercy, His steadfast loving kindness, to us all.

The Last Communion of Saint Joseph Calasanz, painted by Francisco Goya

This saint from Aragon devoted himself to educating poor children in Rome. He wrote: "All who undertake to teach must be endowed with deep love, the greatest patience, and, most of all, profound humility." Indeed, humility is the chief virtue required of a teacher. Goya conveys the spirit of humility in this canvas showing the saint's last Holy Communion in this life.

Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, painted by El Greco

In El Greco's painting, Mary rises to heaven with her arms extended in the orans position, the praying gesture, echoed in the hands of the Apostles, who learn through prayer the significance of what has happened. This attitude of prayer has characterized Mary's whole life, so it marks her transitus as well, and it distinguishes the Church which is uniquely represented in her person. In its original location over an altar, this painting was partly obscured by a tabernacle, and the figure of Mary appeared to hover above this. Mary gave herself completely to God all her life, so God was able to take a body from her body. In return, He raises her body to heaven. In its Eucharistic setting, this painting witnesses to the marvelous bond connecting the Body of Christ, the body of Mary, and the body of believers -- the Church which is also the body of Christ and which has Mary for her Mother.

Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, triptych painted by Lorenzo di Pietro

"The holy Mother of God has been exalted above the the choirs of angels to the heavenly kingdom"... "The queen took her place at your right hand in cloth of gold."  (Matins, 1st Nocturn) "The Angels are rejoicing; praising they bless the Lord." (Lauds antiphon)

Saint Hippolytus

There are two martyrs named Hippolytus, and the stories of their martyrdom tend to be conflated (as happens with the stories of some other namesake saints, such as Mary Magdalen and Mary the sister of Martha and Lazarus). There is Hippolytus the theologian, one-time antipope, who was reconciled with Pope Pontian either before or after both were sentenced for their faith to lifetime forced labor in the Sardinian mines. And there is Hippolytus the soldier, who was converted by witnessing the steadfastness under torture of Saint Lawrence, and who afterwards was drawn and quartered for his faith. The name Hippolytus means "horses set loose." In Dieric Bouts' triptych (the left panel of which was painted by Hugo Van der Goes) the saint is stretched upon a hilside whose high curved outline against the sky suggests the curvature of the earth itself. The horses pull the saint's limbs in the four cardinal directions while the saint looks upward. Thus the world is crucified to him and he to the world, while his gaze is on God's "space" which, symbolized by the heavens, is of course everywhere, including the pain-wracked sinews of the saint's limbs, the earth (clay) of his human (Adamic) bodily being.

Saint Clare of Assisi, painted by Simone Martini

In a letter to a spiritual daughter, Saint Clare wrote of Christ as the "unclouded mirror." and urged her daughter thus: "Look into that mirror daily and study well your reflection, that you may adorn yourself, mind and body, with an enveloping garment of every virtue... In this mirror blessed poverty, holy humility, and ineffable love are also reflected. With the grace of God the whole mirror will be your source of contemplation."

We grow to resemble the object of our love and contemplation. The saints themselves reflect Christ, by looking at Him and finding their true humanity. It strikes me that artists bear a grave responsibility. Images can mold people for good or ill, and the artist is reflected in the work. The peaceful, grave rhythms that animate this painting of Saint Clare had to live first in the soul of the artist. A Florentine Renaissance proverb held that "every artist paints himself well," which is why Michelangelo said that an artist who undertakes to represent Christ or the saints must strive to be a saint. We can all be transformed by daily attending to Christ in the Scriptures and the Liturgy, so that we too may reflect the Image in Whom we are created.

Martyrdom of Saint Lawrence, painted by Tiziano Vecelli

Titian has painted the archdeacon's martyrdom as a night scene, with lively flickering corruscations amid the darkness, to highlight one of the antiphons from matins (2nd nocturn) of the saint's feast: "My night has no darkness, but all things shine with light."

Feast of Saint Lawrence, Deacon and Martyr. Painting by Beato Angelico

In 258 the Roman Emperor Valerian decreed that all Christian clergy should immediately be arrested and put to death. Pope Sixtus II was executed on August 6. The archdeacon Lawrence. who was in charge of the distribution of material goods, gave everything to the poor. When the avaricious magistrate ordered Lawrence to surrender all the possessions of the Church and to deny Christ, Lawrence presented the poor, whom the Church had fed and clothed. These, he said, are the true riches of the Church. Lawrence was put to death on August 10.

In Blessed Giovanni Angelico's fresco in the Vatican, a perspective corridor leads back to the apse of the church. In Renaissance art, the vanishing point of perspective represents the infinite source and destination of all things, that is God. God is found incarnate in the tabernacle in the apse of the church. The figure of the saint continues the shape of the apse down into the foreground of the scene, uniting eternity and the present moment, bringing the mercy of Christ to the poor and afflicted. Notice that the saint's dalmatic is decorated with flames -- the fire which was the instrument of his martyrdom, yes; but even more the divine love which fills him.

(Fra Angelico was among the first artists to use the new system of perspective set forth by Leon Batista Alberti in his treatise on painting. Alberti developed his system in tandem with the thought of Cardinal Nicolas of Cusa, philosopher, theologian and mystic.)