What a New Yorker in 2020 has in Common with a Sculptor During the Black Death

The opinions reflected in this OpEd are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of staff, faculty and students of The King's College.

I have walked through the Metropolitan Museum of Art on 5th Avenue more times than I can count. During my five years in New York City, the towering ceilings and echoing halls have provided a constant refuge and source of solace amid uncertainty and upheaval. 2020 has been an exceptional year, but this familiar place remains the same, even after months of closure. 

Last week, I ascended the imposing staircase toward the Medieval European Wing as I had done many times before. Slowly strolling through the exhibition halls, I took in a 12th century Latin Bible and paused in front of a marble bust of Jerome. However, amid these familiar works of great art, a previously unnoticed corner drew my eye:  a small, wooden crucifix adorned with polychromy. Sculpted by an unknown Italian artist in the early 14th century amid plagues and political unrest, this demure artwork transmits a poignant message to modern times, undiluted by the intervening centuries: Christ was fully sovereign while suffering, providing a framework for the redemption of all humanity’s pain.

Departing from similar works, this crucifix depicts Christ in majesty, not in agony. Garbed in priestly robes and an impassive expression, the piece emphasizes his kingship and glory amid humiliation and suffering. The details in his robe contribute a dimensionality to the piece replicating the natural flows of fabric on flesh. Wearing a solemn but not agonized expression, his hair drapes down his shoulders, and his facial hair partially obscures the lower half of his face. The posture of his hands and fingers bring forth elements of realism as they curve around the intruding nails. While the piece emphasizes Christ’s glory, it does not shy away from his pain. 

The vertical motion of the robe details directs the viewer’s attention upward to Christ’s impassive expression. His large eyes open wide and maintain a direct, outward gaze. The vertical lines in his robes add an element of dimensionality, capturing the shape of his body and the natural flow of fabric. As a whole, the piece conveys a disjointed unity between the divine and the human. While Christ looks supremely majestic, he also appears disproportionate, with arms significantly too long for the rest of his form. The details and ratios of the sculpture convey a nuanced mix of realism and unconventionality.

Unlike many other similar works, which show Christ in excruciating suffering, this crucifix emphasizes Christ’s majesty. His full-length robe denotes his glory and priesthood. Instead of depicting Christ’s body contorted in suffering, this Crucifix shows him upright with fully open eyes. The disproportional length of his arms carries symbolic resonance as if his arms are extending beyond their bounds to embrace the whole world. This piece encapsulates two elements of Christ’s personhood: christ-crucified and christ-glorified. His alertness and impassivity on the cross emphasize his agency over the situation. Displayed in this crucifix is a Christ, full of majesty and power, who willingly submits himself to the humiliation of the cross. 

This crucifix is significant because of its unique take on the crucifixion. By departing from norms, this piece exemplifies aspects of Christ’s personhood that are seldom captured in similar works. The combination of realism and glory creates a powerful depiction of the crucifixion. The shadows around his face emphasize a somber expression as his alert eyes pierce through those who gaze on them. The priestly robes, with their detail and realistic draping, emphasize both Christ’s majesty and his humanity as his arms over-extend to embrace all of humanity.

With running water, the technological enterprise, and innumerable other developments and details, it is easy to feel irrevocably distant from our predecessors. What could I, a modern city-dweller, possibly have in common with a nameless sculptor from the 1350s? Art has the transformative power to weaken chronological snobbery and unite human experience throughout generations. It also frees us from the burden of uniqueness. While the particular circumstances of our time may be unprecedented, the feelings and fears undergirding them certainly are not. The Northern-Italian artisan looked out on a world ravaged by the Black Death, economic turmoil, and political instability in need of solace and affirmation. 

In this crucifix, a single image of suffering and sovereignty, onlookers see a glimpse of the redeeming power of the cross. Through Christ’s torture and sacrifice, all of our present struggles can be embraced in his arms and united to him. The 14th century, like 2020, overflowed with disease, political instability, and uncertainty. The unique challenges of this year allow us to relate to the historical context of our predecessors and appreciate the dire need for hope and deliverance brought on by the Black Death. We, like them, need hope for restoration. The image of Jesus as sovereign while suffering affirms the weight of our sorrows and promises that they too can be redeemed and embraced by Christ’s outstretched arms.