Lourdes Rosary Meditations #10
The Crucifixion
The two biblical verses in this mosaic sum up the seeming absurdity of the Christian message. “God did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all.” The Son, for His part, “became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.” I call this “absurdity” because who would have ever conceived of God becoming man, and, what is more, becoming man so that He could die? Neither of these factors had ever dawned on even the brightest thinkers, and yet they are at the crux of our faith. Without these realities, we would be without hope, without access to God, and the devil would still reign supreme.
As it is, however, God is God. He cannot be overcome, and even when He dies the death on the Cross in His Son, He continues to reign. We know the great tragedy that is this moment of the Crucifixion, but it is never the last moment. The story continues, there is another passage, and more mosaics follow after this one. Let us not, however, rush on, but rather tarry a moment before our Lord Crucified.
Above the arch, between two silent and simple angels, is the ancient Christian symbol of the pelican. It was believed that the pelican would feed itself to its young if unable to find food for them. This quickly became associated with Christ, Who, the night before He suffered, said “This is My Body, given for you. This is My Blood, poured out for you.” Christ the Pelican gave Himself for us that we might live, for our spiritual nourishment had long since run out in our banishment from Eden, and we were ready to starve to death.
Above the Cross is the Father. He wears a flowing pink cloak which in tone and shape are reminiscent of the Creation of Adam in Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel. This is a perfect parallel, for here the New Adam, Christ, is recreating mankind. “Behold, I make all things new.”
There are of course those who care not for the most pivotal moment of all history taking place before them. They cast lots on the right side of the image, to see who will take the clothes of the “criminal” on the Cross. Our Lord, innocent beyond compare, is treated like the guilty on our behalf!
All of the holy figures in the scene are oddly serene, including the angels. The horror-struck looks and perfuse tears of past mosaics are gone. The grief of this moment may be so deep and pervasive that these poor people are past tears. And yet, at the same time, there is something more than grief. There is a reassurance, at least in the eyes of our Lady, seen in pink and blue to our Lord’s right. She never lacked faith and hope, and continues to look with love on Her Son, Who—she knows—will soon rise. Saint John and Mary Magdalene close their eyes, simply wishing to be near the Beloved.
Another Mary perhaps is behind the Cross, and next to her, the soon-to-be Saint Longinus with his spear. He has not yet pierced the side of Christ, Who though silent is still quite alive in this scene. The end, however, is quite near. The Lord is soon to die.
Of course, that means that a new beginning is just about to start. The Son is soon to rise.