The visit of Mary to Elizabeth

A homily for 21 December (cf. St Luke 1, 39-45) by fr Bob Eccles OP of Blackfriars, Cambridge, England. Fr Bob is Promoter of Dominican Laity in the Province of England, Wales and Scotland and religious assistant (chaplain) to our Fraternity.

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St Paul’s church in Antwerp is a baroque jewel in a gothic shrine. Perhaps the finest remaining church in northern Europe to have been founded by Dominicans, it still breathes the spirit of the Order.

There is plenty of evidence here of that affection and friendship that unites Dominicans and artists in every age. Rubens, Van Dyck and Caravaggio are among those who made what we see. Rubens also painted portraits of his friends among the brethren, one he kept for his own fine house. So we can be fairly sure that the Antwerp Dominicans were the theologians behind the schema of Ruben’s Antwerp paintings, the ones that made his name. Look at the stunning Descent from the Cross that took its place in the cathedral 400 years ago, 1612 is the date on the wooden label. This was the altarpiece commissioned by the guild of the harquebusiers for their altar, to replace the one destroyed in the iconoclastic fury. A Protestant mob had gutted the cathedral, a Spanish army had come to avenge the crime in fire and sword. Now in more peaceful and prosperous times it was the moment to make a beautiful Catholic cathedral once again.

The harquebusiers – the harquebus or hackbut was a sort of primitive muzzle-loading musket – had St Christopher as their patron. But an image of St Christopher would not have been in the spirit of the new evangelism of the Counter-Reformation. Still, the thought of St Christopher, Christ-bearer, suggested the theme. It was to be, the bearing of Christ, declined in all the passages illustrating this in the gospels. 

When the side panels of the picture, its shutters, are turned inwards, we see depicted on their backs the doughty muscular giant – a great giant is Christopher – bearing the Christ-child across the river, the hermit to one side waving his lantern encouragingly.

Open the panels and three pictures confront us. In the central scene, the body of the Crucified, it has a ghostly pallor contrasting with St John’s red robe, is being reverently borne from the cross and lowered into the arms of his mother. To the right, Jesus and Mary bring the Christ-child into the temple for Simeon to take him up joyfully and bear him in his arms. And on the left, the subject of today’s gospel, the visit of the mother bearing her child to the house of Elizabeth.

It is a bright breezy day in the hill country. We can see for miles. The last lap of Mary’s journey, the hill climb, leads her to the steps to Zechariah’s front door. The two couples meet on the doorstep, Mary’s billowing robe and demure look of content, and the movement of the hands of both women bringing us to realize the motives of their wonder and joy. Like the other compositions nothing here is static, all breathes action and movement, we are caught up in the shock and thrill of it. Yet it invites to still contemplation. Every detail tells in the paintings, the soles of Joseph’s bare feet, a brass bowl on the ground with the crown of thorns and some blood, and in the visitation scene, in a dusty space below the arch of the stairs we spot a peacock, symbol of eternal life, and a cock, the bird of sacrifice.

A triptych retable like this one is designed so that the two hinged panels may be folded over the central one, hiding the splendour within, at times when nothing is happening at the altar below. So if we could see this as it was first designed to be fully seen, it would be at Mass, with the guildsmen and their families surrounding the altar. What is spoken of in the language of the picture is realised in mystery in the holy sacrifice.

In a moment the priest will turn from the altar and bring down to those who kneel at the altar rail, the Eucharistic body of Christ. Just as the priest at every Mass bears the body of the Lord to the faithful, so that they in turn may become the bearers of Christ to the world. He who was carried in her womb by Mary, held in the arms of Simeon, and delivered to his afflicted mother, he it is who is known as triumphant in his glory now and made known in the breaking of the bread.

We are those who are invited to become the bearers of the mystery, sent away from our morning Mass to glorify God with our lives. Isn’t that what we are invited to understand anew at Christmas? The Lord has visited his people. The Word has taken flesh and dwelt among us. We are the ones to see, and seeing share that glimpse of glory in our turn. Amen.