Luke 9:22-25 The Son of Man must suffer many things

Christ crowned with Thorns, Painted by Fra Angelico (1390/5-1455), Painted in 1438, Tempera and gold leaf on panel © Livorno Cathedral, Italy

Gospel Reading

At that time: Jesus said to his disciples: ‘The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.’ And he said to all, ‘If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what does it profit a man if he gains the whole world and loses or forfeits himself?’

Reflection on the painting

Today’s painting by Fra Angelico is a difficult image. It does not offer immediate comfort or ease. Yet, as we reflect on today’s Gospel reading, where we hear that “The Son of Man must suffer many things”, we realise that this painting is actually a very fitting image. Most artists depict Christ’s suffering through the Via Crucis, the Flagellation, or the Crucifixion itself, using dramatic compositions filled with physical anguish. But very few portraits manage to convey the depth of Christ’s inner suffering in such a stark and haunting way, as today's painting. Each year, I choose an artwork to accompany me through Lent in prayer. This will be my image for this year. I have printed it and hung it in my room. I know it will both draw me in and yet unsettle me—which is precisely why it is such a powerful piece. The most profound artworks often do both: they invite us into their mystery while confronting us with truths we might prefer to avoid. Fra Angelico, one of the greatest painters of the 15th-century Italian Renaissance, was known for his contemplative, luminous style, which reflected his deep spirituality. His paintings often exude a sense of serenity, yet this particular image is different. It is not a merely devotional painting; it is deeply challenging. And that is precisely the point of Lent. We should be challenged and unsettled! Lent reminds us that suffering is woven into the fabric of life; a Christ's suffering into the fabric of our Christian lives. This painting seems to strip away all distractions, leaving us face to face with Christ’s sorrow. Fra Angelico was born in Tuscany, where he entered the Dominican Order, taking the name Fra Giovanni da Fiesole, though history remembers him as Fra Angelico, meaning “the Angelic Brother.” His most famous works include the San Marco frescoes in Florence. These serene compositions reflect his deep theological insight and prayerful approach to art. Invited to Rome by Pope Eugene IV, he later painted frescoes in the Vatican’s Niccoline Chapel, solidifying his influence on sacred art. His reputation as both a holy man and an extraordinary artist led to his beatification by Pope John Paul II in 1982, and today, he is venerated as the patron saint of Catholic artists, a testament to his belief that art should serve as a window to divine truth.

by Father Patrick van der Vorst

My word! Wasn't this a great TES thread...


https://community.tes.com/threads/novelists-corner.456752/


Opening post:

In_You_Go_Jones

I'm sure there are so many out there who like myself have a novel in the works. Why not have a thread where we can share opinions on each other's work? Let me start the ball rolling with an excerpt from my novel, THE MAN WHO THOUGHT HE HEARD JENNY LIND SING... I would appreciate opinion. No sycophancy please!

 

'It's slow Saturday in mid-December. Gene looks out through the darkening conservatory and snow clouds blanket Hillingdon. Snow falling like petals from the whitethorns of spring; snow drifting in oblique sheets over the Grand Union Canal at Uxbridge where sometimes on early summer morning jogs Gene used to see the former boxer and now painter, the late Kevin Finnegan, at work at his easel. Snow. Everywhere. Snowing in finely granulated powder, in damp spongy flakes, in thin, feathery plumes, snowing from a leaden sky steadily, snowing fiercely, shaken out of grey-black clouds in white flocculent dustings, or dropping in long low lines, like white spears gliding down from the silent heavens. But always silently!'

And there's more...

In_You_Go_Jones

       

THE DAILY MAIL ...  21 st MAY 2011

James Delingpole interviews the author of the novel everyone is talking about. A few months ago he was an anonymous teacher in west London. Now Gene Vincent, author of 'The Man who thought he heard Jenny Lind sing...' is a literary superstar.

It is a glorious morning in the summer half term.

An unpretentious Nissan is parked in the driveway. Gene is standing in the doorway. Mahler's Das Leid von der Erde wafts though the open front window. On the hallstand hangs a Bogart-style Burberry trench coat. I am obviously in the home of a man of innate good taste. He greets me warmly and is straight through to the kitchen where he has been busy with the coffee grinder. The strong aroma of freshly ground Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee fills the air.

Gene is dressed casually in a plain grey T-shirt, faded chinos and flip-flop sandals. His is alone at home; his wife (also a teacher) is out shopping at the new Westfield Shopping Centre at Shepherds Bush and his seventeen year-old son, Paul,  is off on a soccer training course. "He should be at home revising for his AS levels" mutters Gene, "but his ambition in life is to play for Brentford FC."

With his lithe build, supple movements and shaven head Gene looks much younger than his fifty-four years.

To be continued 

 

In_You_Go_Jones, Jan 5, 2011