In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God; all things were made through him. (John 1, 1-2)
I have been invited to contribute to the catalog of a wonderful art collection of Low Countries art which will be housed in a museum currently being built in Leiden in Holland, called the House of Leiden. Most of the works have not been seen publicly before, but I have been given kind permission to feature selected works as a preview. I am excited to offer you this as the first of a series of occasional postings.
My focus in these commentaries will not be so much on the artist’s life and the history of the painting but on theme and style, and on how each painting can be understood through the eyes of a believing Catholic. We begin with:
Mary with Child and a book, c 1546-1560; artist: anonymous, known as a follower of the Master of the Female Half-figures (active ca. 1520-1540); oil on panel; 35.8 x 26.9 cm
In this painting, the Mother of God tenderly looks down at her Son as he playfully grasps a book. He is loosely clothed with white swaddling clothes as an allusion to his future death as one buried in a shroud. The artist has eliminated all superfluous background detail by shrouding it in darkness. This causes an intensified focus on the brightly lit figure of the baby Jesus, the face of Our Lady, and the book. The gaze of both Our Lady and of Christ are fixed on the book, so our attention rests there, too.The book symbolises the Word of God. While we might conclude that the book is the Bible, which is likely, it is important not to equate the reference to the Word of God and the Bible too narrowly. The concept of Christ as the ‘Logos’ or ‘Word’ of God derives from the Greek philosophical term λόγος (logos), which means both “word” and “reason”. (The English word logic comes from this.) Christ is the fullness of all that the Scriptures speak of, manifested in a person, and is also the incarnation of Divine Wisdom and perfect reason - the Logos. So, in reality, we are directed to the book, but the book, in turn, directs us to the Divine person. In this sense, the Word might be considered an overflowing of what the book contains.
This painting might challenge many with a modern mindset in another way - by connecting Christ with reason. It is common today for people to believe that reason and faith are incompatible, or at least unconnected. However, the message of the painting, consistent with the Faith, is that this is a mistake.
It is certainly possible to discover truths about God and the world around us through the unaided application of human reason. However, certain conditions must be met for our conclusions to reflect truth.
For example, our premises - the starting point in any line of reasoning - must be true. Further, the data we process and interpret in the subsequent application of reason, usually obtained via the senses, must be accurate. Finally, the application of reason must be logical and not swayed by our desire to make the conclusions correspond to what we would like them to be.
In practice, these conditions are difficult to meet perfectly. Premises can be poorly chosen, the information gained through the senses is often imperfect, and man’s application of reason can be weak, being easily misdirected by the passions and the imagination.
Precisely because reason—even in the seemingly simplest and most material matters, right before our eyes—can err and stubbornly cling to error, the New Testament constantly invites us to be aware of its limits and to trust in the words of the true Master, Jesus Christ. It’s worth noting that Christianity calls us to accept God’s word with faith and trust, but also insists on applying reason with all our strength so that the premises and conclusions of faith can become wisdom—that is, the ability to understand that true meaning and happiness in life are found there. Faith that becomes wisdom does not detach us from rationality; rather, it enables us to see all things in a new light. C.S. Lewis expresses this beautifully: “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” (“They Asked For A Paper,” in Is Theology Poetry?, p. 165. London: Geoffrey Bless, 1962)
Returning to the Bible, this is also why St. Paul repeatedly reminds us that while we must have faith in Christ, we are also called to contemplate and meditate on His life—from His preaching to His death on the cross—because in doing so, we can attain true wisdom:
“We are preaching a crucified Christ: to the Jews an obstacle they cannot get over, to the Gentiles foolishness, but to those who have been called, whether they are Jews or Greeks, a Christ who is both the power of God and the wisdom of God. God’s folly is wiser than human wisdom, and God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.” (1 Cor. 1, 23-24)
There can never be any contradiction between faith and reason (or faith and science, properly conducted), for all truth and order emanate from God. For a Christian, there should be no fear in asking questions or raising objections, for wherever truth is found, the divine Logos will shine forth. The harmony and complementarity of faith and reason in the search for truth and wisdom were beautifully described by Pope St John Paul II at the beginning of his encyclical Fides et Ratio:
“Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth; and God has placed in the human heart a desire to know the truth—in a word, to know Himself—so that, by knowing and loving God, men and women may also come to the fullness of truth.”