Lent 4 - Wednesday - Caravaggio and The Betrayal of Saint Peter

Text: Mark 8:11-26 (see below)

By the year 1600, the young artist, Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, was a household word amongst the elite of Rome. He never lacked for commissions or, for that matter, patrons. In the midst of the Catholic Counter-Reformation, Caravaggio delighted many of his supporters because his art was approachable – there was a deeply human dimension to his painting. This, no doubt, pleased the hierarchy in the Vatican who were anxious to combat the rising tide of the Protestant Reformation.  

But Caravaggio had a very difficult time handling his fame and fortune. He was arrested many times and even served jail time. Near the end of his life, a death warrant was issued for him by the Pope. An early published notice about the artist, dating from 1604 and describing Caravaggio’s lifestyle three years previously, tells how "after a fortnight's work he will swagger about for a month or two with a sword at his side and a servant following him, from one ball-court to the next, ever ready to engage in a fight or an argument, so that it is most awkward to get along with him” (Wikipedia.org).

In the year 1606, just four years before his death, Caravaggio got into a brawl and killed his opponent. He fled Rome immediately. From that time on there was a price laid on his head. More duels and fights continued as he journeyed to Malta, Naples, and Sicily. The encounter in Naples was not of his own choosing but instigated by his enemies who wanted to take his life. From all accounts, this clash left him severely injured. He died less than a year later near Grosseto in the Italian region of Tuscany at the age of 38. At the time of his death, it should be noted, Caravaggio was on his way to Rome to receive a pardon from the Pope.

The Betrayal of Saint Peter is either Caravaggio’s last work or next to last work depending on where scholars place The Martyrdom of Saint Ursula in chronological order. The Betrayal was completed in 1610 depicting Peter denying that he knew Christ after his arrest even though there are three fingers pointing in his direction. The painting was purchased by the Metropolitan Museum in New York City at an auction in 1997.

Take a moment and really look carefully at the painting. What do you see?

A description of the work by the curators at The Metropolitan Museum reads: “The picture, a marvel of narrative as well as pictorial concision, was painted by Caravaggio in the last months of his tempestuous life and marks an extreme stage in his revolutionary style. In it he eschews delicacy and beauty of color and, with extraordinary psychological penetration, concentrates exclusively on the human drama. Caravaggio's late works depend for their dramatic effect on brightly lit areas standing in stark contrast to a dark background. These effects become exaggerated over time as the paint becomes more transparent” (Metropolitan Museum of Art).

Again, like The Taking of Christ, this painting freezes all of the action and yet tells the whole story. Notice the three fingers pointing at Peter. Is Caravaggio telling us that there were three accusations made against Peter? One charge made by the solider and two more by the woman. Of course, we know that Peter denies each one of these allegations.

Notice carefully the use of light which Caravaggio masterly uses to express meaning and identity. The Roman solider is completely in the dark while Peter stands in the light. But who is really in darkness at this moment in the story? Who is the believer? And who is wrestling with their faith? The servant girl is shown to be in partial light. What does this mean? Is she coming to know the truth, heading towards the light? Or, because of the authority of the soldier, is she heading towards darkness to protect herself like Peter?

And what about Peter, the “Rock”? I am so drawn to him in this painting. He looks at a complete loss. His mind is far from the scene. Is he perhaps reliving those prophetic words of the Teacher: “Before the cock crows three times, you will deny me, Peter.” Perhaps, Caravaggio painted Peter in this moment as hearing the cock in the distance.

Look at Peter's hands. His mouth said one thing but his hands and body say another. He is the only one in that scene who knows the whole truth. Caravaggio pours light onto Peter so that we may witness the tremendous struggle that goes on in a human being. When have you or I experienced what Peter is going through in this scene? How did it end? What did you do?

I have used this particular painting many times over the years when teaching about the Gospel of John and specifically about the magnificent eighteenth chapter of the Fourth Gospel. This Italian masterpiece never fails to deliver and more often than not elicits strong emotional reactions from participants. Like the Scriptures, this work of Caravaggio still speaks today. The Church should not be afraid to use such a gift in order to lead men and women into a deeper experience of the Divine.

Love One Another – Brian

Out of the Illogical

Friedrich Nietzsche

Out of the illogical comes much good. It is so firmly rooted in the passions, in language, in art, in religion, and generally in everything which gives value to life. It is only the naïve people who can believe that the nature of man can be changed into a purely logical one.

Source: Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Mark 8:11-26

When they arrived, the Pharisees came out and started in on Jesus, badgering him to prove himself, pushing him up against the wall. Provoked, he said, "Why does this generation clamor for miraculous guarantees? If I have anything to say about it, you'll not get so much as a hint of a guarantee." Jesus then left them, got back in the boat, and headed for the other side. But the disciples forgot to pack a lunch. Except for a single loaf of bread, there wasn't a crumb in the boat. Jesus warned, "Be very careful. Keep a sharp eye out for the contaminating yeast of Pharisees and the followers of Herod." Meanwhile, the disciples were finding fault with each other because they had forgotten to bring bread. Jesus overheard and said, "Why are you fussing because you forgot bread? Don't you see the point of all this? Don't you get it at all? Remember the five loaves I broke for the five thousand? How many baskets of leftovers did you pick up?" They said, "Twelve." "And the seven loaves for the four thousand—how many bags full of leftovers did you get?"   "Seven." Jesus said, "Do you still not get it?" They arrived at Bethsaida. Some people brought a sightless man and begged Jesus to give him a healing touch. Taking him by the hand, he led him out of the village. He put spit in the man's eyes, laid hands on him, and asked, "Do you see anything?" He looked up. "I see men. They look like walking trees." So Jesus laid hands on his eyes again. The man looked hard and realized that he had recovered perfect sight, saw everything in bright, twenty-twenty focus. Jesus sent him straight home, telling him, "Don't enter the village."

Translation: The Message