Facing Up to Death

“He set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51)

Luke uses a very strong Greek verb to describe the way Jesus “set his face to go to Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51). He faced up to the very real, very human experience of death. And we, if we tell the truth, and if we hope to meet the Risen Christ on Easter morning, must also face up to the awesome and awful reality of death.

Caravaggio (1517-1610) faced up to death with ruthless honesty when he painted The Death of the Virgin in 1603. In contrast to the excessive piety of traditional religious art, he captured the earthy reality of ordinary, human death. Mary’s lifeless face is pale. Her feet and stomach are swollen. Her hand hangs limp on the side of the bed.

The artist imagined a 5th Century tradition that the apostles were gathered magically from wherever they were on their missionary journeys to be together again at Mary’s death. With Mary Magdalene, they surround Mary’s bed, unashamedly sharing their tears or staring in silent grief. 

The priests at the Church of Santa Maria della Scala who ordered the painting rejected it. They were offended by the reality of Mary’s lifeless body along with the scandal that the artist used the corpse of a drowned prostitute as his model for Mary. But I’m drawn to Caravaggio’s honesty about death. I’m hopeful that even a drowned prostitute is within the reach of the love that became flesh through Mary.  

Why Not?

There is, of course, no biblical basis for the scene. But why not imagine that in a way that goes beyond the narrow boundaries of human space and time, the people who had been closest to her Son were all with Mary when she crossed over from life, through death, into the new life of the resurrection?

Why not imagine the final scene of Mary’s story the way John Bunyan imagined the death of Mr. Valiant-for-Truth in A Pilgrim’s Progress.  

When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the Riverside, into which as he went he said, “Death, where is thy Sting?” And as he went down deeper he said, “Grave, where is thy Victory?”  So, he passed over, and all the Trumpets sounded for him on the other side.” 

A Gathering of Spirits

Caravaggio’s painting and Bunyan’s story led me to remember all the people who I expect to be with me in the hour of my passing. I give thanks for the faithful family members, colleagues, parishioners, and friends who have encouraged, guided, challenged, and sometimes frustrated me along the way. I am who I am because of who they have been in my life. Their presence is an ongoing gift of grace even death cannot take away.

Why wouldn’t I hope that the spirits of those who have accompanied me through life will also accompany me to the Riverside of death? 

How could I not believe that the faith, love and friendship we have shared in this life will go with us through death into the new life of the resurrection?  

Why not believe that we will all be there to hear the trumpets on the other side?

Isn’t that what we mean when we declare, “I believe in the communion of the saints”?

It’s what Carrie Newcomer describes when she sings “The Gathering of Spirits.”

There’s a gathering of spirits
There’s a festival of friends
And we’ll take up where we left off
When we all meet again

But wait! That’s for next Sunday!

Holy Week and Good Friday come first. We can’t rush ahead to Easter Sunday without setting our face, the way Jesus set his face to go to the cross. That’s where we, with him, face up to death; his death and our own.

Grace and peace,

Jim