The soldiers led him away inside the palace, that is, the praetorium, and assembled the whole cohort. They clothed him in purple and, weaving a crown of thorns, placed it on him. They began to salute him with, “Hail, King of the Jews!” and kept striking his head with a reed and spitting upon him. They knelt before him in homage. And when they had mocked him, they stripped him of the purple cloak, dressed him in his own clothes, and led him out to crucify him. Read full Gospel here.
By Neil Arner
Let the viewer beware: Aert Mytens’s Christ Crowned with Thorns (ca. 1590-1600) contains two surprises for an observer of this painting. The first is Mytens’s subtle portrayal of the scope of culpability for Jesus’ suffering. The second is Mytens’s expression of the paradoxical means by which Jesus sovereignly defeats evil.
Let us first consider how Mytens creatively involves a viewer in the scene he portrays. The entire painting is affected by the dramatic decision to light the setting with a single candle. The dim light focuses a viewer’s attention on only six figures, thereby abstracting from “the whole cohort” of soldiers that Mark records as participating in this act. Mytens also faithfully renders the colors that result from lighting a room with a small flame; everything is cast in warm tones. This lighting scheme is prone to put contemporary viewers in the emotional context of an intimate dinner by candlelight or a family room illuminated by a glowing hearth. Mytens’s dark canvas and warm colors thus have the peculiar effect of drawing one nearer to this depiction of the gross injustice and violence that Jesus is suffering.
Yet if you were a viewer approaching this painting in a gallery, then you would perhaps become cognizant of an uncomfortable means by which Mytens has anticipated your proximity. Note how the placement of the five figures around Jesus is quite unnatural. They are not equally distributed in a circle. Instead, they resemble the way that characters in a theater production are usually situated at dinner: they occupy only three sides of the table so that the audience can see all of the actors.
Mytens highlights this odd placement of figures by his use of “negative space”—all of the visible feet in the image point to it. A viewer who responds to Mytens’s visual attractants by coming close to the painting will find oneself guided to a specific location: the open floor space at the bottom of the image. To return again to a comparison with theater, Mytens subtly “breaks the fourth wall” by drawing one across the plane of the canvas. Standing close to this painting, a viewer completes the circle of Jesus’ accusers and thereby becomes a participant in this infamous act.
Mytens’s painting thus offers an entirely democratic account of culpability for Jesus’ passion: neither Jews, nor Romans, nor politicians, nor soldiers, nor those in Jerusalem on that fateful day in the first century are uniquely implicated in Jesus’ suffering and death. Any viewer of this image is invited to consider his or her own responsibility for history’s gravest imaginable sin—deicide, the murder of God. Two ecclesial declarations that were written during Mytens’s life likewise encourage Christians to undertake such reflection. The Roman Catechism of 1566, which is cited in the 1992 Catechism of the Catholic Church (§598), states on behalf of all Christians, “Our sins made the Lord Christ suffer the torment of the cross.” The Heidelberg Catechism, which was composed for Reformed churches in 1563, states similarly that “Christ bore in body and soul the wrath of God against the sin of the whole human race” (ans. 37).
Now although Mytens’s painting may highlight for viewers a universal culpability for Jesus’ suffering, this work also conveys the Gospel’s unexpected consolation for those convicted of sin. Paradoxically, Jesus is showcasing God’s sovereign rule not by the exertion of sheer power but by patiently bearing the full brunt of the world’s evil. The tormentors portrayed in this painting cannot imagine why a true and powerful king would willingly suffer such abuse. Thus they mock his purported kingship, as Mytens illustrates with Jesus’ regal robe, crown of thorns, reed staff, and enthroned posture.
Yet Mark emphasizes that Jesus’ suffering is the fulfillment rather than the thwarting of God’s sovereign plan to redeem humans from the sin that separates them from God. When Jesus is arrested, he emphasizes to his disciples that these events are occurring in accord with God’s ancient promises. Jesus suffers willingly so that “the Scriptures may be fulfilled.” His passion is not in the least unexpected to him; rather, it is the climactic event in the long-term rescue project that God first announced in Genesis 3:15 and has been gradually implementing since then. In today’s Gospel lesson, Mark alludes to several Scriptural promises of divine victory over sin that are being fulfilled through Jesus’ passion.
First, while celebrating the Passover meal with his disciples, Jesus explains that this ritual has for centuries foreshadowed God’s intention to become incarnate and die. His death thus serves the purpose of sparing sinners from divine judgment in the same manner as the sacrificial lamb at the original Passover.
Second, in the midst of his trial before the Sanhedrin, Jesus claims to be both the Son of God and the Son of Man. Thus he portrays himself as both the ultimate heir of the Davidic covenant described in 2 Samuel 7:8-16 and the figure from the prophetic vision of Daniel 7:13-14. Both of these “sons” are promised conquerors who will triumph over the enemies of God’s people—especially over the forces of evil that enslave them.
Third, just before dying on the cross, Jesus cries out in dereliction. His lament is a quotation of the first line of Psalm 22. Jesus thereby indicates that his suffering fulfills that ancient hymn, which promises that God’s dominion will be manifested by utilizing the suffering of God’s servant to bring all people back to God.
In summary, Mytens’s painting conveys both a surprising accusation and an unexpected means of consolation. One who is drawn toward the warm image is abruptly forced to entertain one’s own culpability in the suffering of Jesus. Yet that suffering is, paradoxically, God’s ultimate display of sovereignty whereby evil is conquered and sinners are eternally reconciled with God.
Neil Arner is assistant professor of moral theology and Christian ethics in the Theology Department, and is an ordained minister in the Presbyterian Church (USA).
Image credit:
Aert Mytens (Flemish, 1541¬–1602), Christ Crowned with Thorns, ca. 1590–1600, oil on canvas. Snite Museum of Art, University of Notre Dame: P. Reilly, J. McCrindle, N. Cummings, P. Mannheim Purchase Funds, 1981.013.