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In this German Renaissance “Last Supper” painting, the disciples have laid aside their pilgrim’s staffs and have sat down to a Passover meal of roast lamb, bread, and wine. Jesus, having just announced that one of them would betray him, looks across the table at Judas, the group’s treasurer—who wears not one but TWO purses! Jesus tenderly and regretfully feeds Judas an unleavened wafer, indicating that he’s the one. The others seem not to notice—groups of two discuss among themselves who the traitor might be; one disciple guzzles down more wine from a tubed bottle, while another pours more from a jug; John’s asleep to Christ’s left, and to his right Peter stares blankly into space, knife in hand (foreshadowing his cutting off the ear of one of Jesus’s arresters later that night); and one crass disciple turns his head to shoot snot out his nose. Jesus has just washed all their feet, as indicated by the water basin and towel in the foreground—a stunning act of humility. His supremest act of humility is but a day away, on Good Friday. It’s alluded to by the poster at the left of a snake lifted up on a staff (see John 3:14-15), as well as by the monstrance (a receptacle for the consecrated Eucharistic host) that two angels raise above Jesus’s head, proclaiming his impending sacrifice. The sweet, generative nature of this sacrifice is underscored by the lily-of-the-valley that’s strewn all over the floor and table, as the flower is connected with the advent of spring and the promise of new life. For a detail photo of this magnificent painting, and a soundtrack and scripture reading to go along with your viewing, visit today’s blog post. Attributed to Jörg Ratgeb (German, ca. 1480-1526), “The Last Supper,” 1505-10. Oil on panel, 38 7/10 x 36 in. (98.5 x 91.5 cm). Boijmans van Beuningen Museum (@boijmans), Rotterdam, Netherlands. #holyweek #lastsupper #judas #betrayal #eucharist

“The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. . . . Now is my soul troubled. And what shall I say? ‘Father, save me from this hour’? But for this purpose I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The crowd that stood there and heard it said that it had thundered. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now will the ruler of this world be cast out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” He said this to show by what kind of death he was going to die. —John 12:23-24, 27-33 The Brothers of Abriem Harp take this passage as the basis for the opening track of their album LAST DAYS, which follows Jesus’s final week. In today’s devotion on the blog, I pair it with a Midwestern landscape painting by John Rogers Cox, which shows an ominous storm cloud above a field of wheat. John Rogers Cox (American, 1915-1990), "Wheat Field," ca. 1943. Oil on Masonite, 16 x 20 in. The John and Susan Horseman Collection of American Art. Photo via the Brandywine River Museum of Art. #holyweek #glorify #parableofthegrainofwheat #regionalism

Each day of Holy Week, through Easter Sunday, I am posting a short devotional on the blog that consists of that day’s Gospel reading from the Revised Common Lectionary, a musical selection, and a visual artwork, which I hope will help you enter more fully into the Passion narrative. Today’s devotion is on the Supper at Bethany (John’s version), where Mary anoints Jesus's feet with precious ointment, symbolically preparing him for burial. Judas objects to this supposed wastefulness and gets a stern dressing-down from Jesus. In this instance I chose the song first—a ballad by Sydney Carter, performed by @vallimarjansen. Because the song focuses on Judas’s protest, I wanted to find an image of the Supper in which Judas is prominently featured (relatively rare!). This Vaux Passional illumination delivers: there he is on the left with his moneybag, chiding Mary. The Romanesque fresco at Sant’Angelo in Formis, Italy, is another example. IMAGE: Illumination from the Vaux Passional, England, ca. 1503–4. Peniarth MS 482D, fol. 15v, National Library of Wales, Aberystwyth. #holyweek #marymagdalene #judas

Matthew (26:6-13) and Mark (14:3-9) describe an unnamed woman who, while Jesus is dining at the house of Simon the leper in Bethany, comes to anoint his HEAD with costly ointment in preparation for his burial. The parallel story in John (12:1-8), which identifies the woman as Mary, says she anointed his FEET, drying them with her hair. Probably because it’s more dramatic and because it’s conflated with a similar account in Luke (7:36-50), with its emphasis on Christian humility, this latter variant dominates artistic representations of the scene. I’ve also heard it suggested that it would have been scandalous to place a woman compositionally above Christ and all the other men at the table, in such a position of honor. (Even though Jesus himself publicly honored her, saying that “wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will also be told in memory of her.”) * El Greco’s is the only Old Master painting of the subject I know of that places Mary Magdalene at Christ’s head rather than his feet. Modern and contemporary artists who’ve done so include Eric Gill, Julia Stankova, Arcabas, Macha Chmakoff, and J. Kirk Richards. Do you know of any others? #holyweek #alabasterjar #anointingofchrist #marymagdalene * IMAGE 1: El Greco (Domenikos Theotokopoulos) (Greek, active in Spain, 1541-1614), “The Feast in the House of Simon,” ca. 1608/14. Oil on canvas, 143.3 x 100.4 cm. Photo via the Art Institute of Chicago. IMAGE 2: Eric Gill (British, 1882-1940), “Mary Magdalen,” 1926. Wood engraving on paper, 6.3 x 6.3 cm. Photo via the Tate Gallery, London. IMAGE 3: Julia Stankova (Bulgarian, 1954-), “Unction of Christ,” 2017. Painting on wooden panel, 53 x 40 cm. Photo via juliastankova.com. IMAGE 4: Arcabas (French, 1926-2018), “The Ointment of Nard,” 2003. Oil on canvas, 65 x 81 cm, from the Passion-Resurrection polyptych, Montaigu, Scherpenheuvel, Belgium. Photo via artway.eu. IMAGE 5: Macha Chmakoff (French, 1952-), “L’onction royale de Marie Madeleine n°2.” Oil on canvas, 46 x 55 cm. Photo via chmakoff.com. IMAGE 6: J. Kirk Richards (American, 1976-), “Alabaster Box,” 2004. Oil on canvas, 24 x 24 in. Photo via jkirkrichards.com.

These two paintings by Dutch Renaissance artist Cornelis Engebrechtsz show sequential episodes inspired by the late medieval “Meditations on the Life of Christ” by Pseudo-Bonaventura. Shortly before his Passion Jesus stopped in Bethany one last time, where he ate supper and was anointed with perfume by Mary Magdalene, who sits at his feet in the first picture. His mother Mary pleads with him not to go on to Jerusalem, but he tells her he must. The second picture takes place at the town gate of Bethany, where Jesus gives his mother one last goodbye hug before setting off toward his death. Her two sisters, Mary Jacobi and Mary Salome, stand behind her supportively, and Mary Magdalene weeps uncontrollably, burying her face in her hands. Peter, the white-bearded man, tries to explain about the coming kingdom, but John, the beardless youth in red, only looks down sympathetically at the grieving woman who will be left to his care in just a short while. Four of the other apostles make their way down the hill on the right, as Jerusalem beckons them in the distance. “Come on, Jesus, it’s time,” one seems to say with a backward glance. Cornelis Engebrechtsz (Dutch, 1462-1527), “Christ’s Second Visit to the House of Mary and Martha” and “Christ Taking Leave of His Mother,” ca. 1515-20. Oil on panel, 55 x 44 cm each. Photos via the Rijksmuseum (@rijksmuseum), Amsterdam. #passionofchrist #holyweek #materdolorosa

Anselm Kiefer (German, 1945-), “Palmsonntag” [Palm Sunday], 2006. Palm tree, fiberboard with clay, paint, shellac, adhesive, metal, palm fronds, fabric, and paper, dimensions variable. Photo via the National Galleries of Scotland and Tate. “The centerpiece of the work is a painted resin cast of a fallen palm tree—rather than only fronds, Kiefer has laid an entire uprooted tree on the path to Jerusalem. And in doing so, the palm symbol of celebration and triumph also becomes an image of absolute deadness and loss. The fallen tree seems to visually rhyme the dead body of Christ in traditional paintings of his deposition from the cross and entombment. Kiefer thus holds the hopefulness of Palm Sunday together with the seeming utter disaster of Good Friday and the desolation of Holy Saturday.”—@jonathan.a.anderson, March 20, 2016, Biola University CCCA Lent Project In addition to the uprooted palm tree, Kiefer’s “Palmsonntag” installation “comprises thirty-six ‘vitrine’ paintings containing vertically mounted branches of vegetation (palms, sunflower pods, mangroves) suspended in plaster and earth, like phantom specimens in the opened pages of a giant herbiary. In both pagan and Christian iconography, the palm with its sword-like branches, was known as an immortal tree that never actually perished but constantly regenerated, a new sheath of fronds budding from the side of a fallen limb. This traditional Greco-Roman symbol of military triumph was adapted by early Christianity as a sign of Christ’s victory over death and came to serve as a universal emblem of martyrdom. Thus Kiefer intends us to register Palm Sunday as a true triumph; understanding that Christ’s entry into Jerusalem inaugurated the events leading not only to the Passion but also to the Resurrection.”—Gasgonian Gallery, exhibition text from 2008 #palmsunday

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