<i>Ugly</i>: Part 4, The ugly cross

Sorry for the long time between posts. I've been away taking some very brilliant students to a psychological conference in Kansas City, MO to present our research into the PostSecret phenomenon. Now that the conference is over I feel free to present some of that research here. After this series on Ugly look for some posts on PostSecret.

Now, back to Ugly.

On Wednesday night in my bible class on Ugly I had Dan, one of my good friends, come talk to us about the aesthetics of the crucifixion. Dan is an amazing artist and a wonderful colleague at the University. But what I love most about Dan is his curiosity. You'd think that university profs and academicians are an intellectually curious lot. Not so. Many are specialists, almost technicians, in their narrow area of scholarship. Consequently, few show any interest or desire to read, explore, or dip into areas outside of their speciality. Dan's not like that. His interests, intellectual and spiritual, are polymathic.

In his aesthetics of the crucifixion class Dan initially handed us two artistic portrayals of the crucifixion. The first is an oil on wood done by Raphael in 1505:



The second picture is an oil on canvas done by Lovis Corinth in 1907:



After viewing these two pictures at our tables, Dan asked us to discuss these questions:

Consider the two artworks and answer any of these questions:

Which of these paintings appeals to you most? Why?

Which of these painting would you rather hang in your house? Why?

Which of these paintings do you find to be more reverent or respectful? Why?

Which of these painting is more beautiful? Why?

Which of these paintings is truer? Why?

At my table, as we discussed these questions, we made what are the obvious contrasts. The Raphael painting is a beautiful, peaceful, blue-skied scene. It is suffused with divinity and spirituality.

By contrast, in the Corinth painting there is no trace of the divine. The scene is ugly, grotesque. The nudity is harsh. Jesus' whole body is embarrassing and shameful. Twisted. Consequently, the Corinth painting shakes our faith. Where is God in that scene? Where is God?

Although I appreciate the painting of Raphael I admire the Corinth painting for its ability to recover for us the utter scandal and God-forsakenness of the cross. It helps us understand why the Crucified God of the early Christians was so incomprehensible to its first cultural audience.

How could the cross, this ugly cross, be the foundation of this faith?

And why?