When the famous
and great painter Leonardo da Vinci was painting his masterpiece The Last Supper, he selected a gentle
and kind young man named Pietro Bandinelli to sit for the character of Jesus.
Over twenty-five years passed before da Vinci would finish his painting. One by
one he chose models to portray the disciples. The last character to be painted
was that of Judas Iscariot. As da Vinci searched the streets of Rome he came
across a man whose shoulders were far bent towards the ground. He had an
expression of cold, hardened evil. The man seemed to perfectly match the
artist's conception of Judas. When they returned to the studio, this man, who
had abandoned himself to every vice, began to look around as if he was
recalling incidents of years gone by. Finally, he turned and looked half-sad
and said to da Vinci, "Master, I was in this studio twenty-five years ago.
At that time I sat for the figure of Jesus." This man was Pietro Bandinelli[1].
I wonder how
different we are now from what we were ten or twenty or thirty years ago. I wonder
in that journey we take from our youth through the process of aging how much of
the darkness of the world has overwhelmed our lives and hearts. How many have
struggled with drinking too much, eating too much or spending too much? How
many have become bitter and overly critical because they have been cynical in
life and in love; cheated, as it were, from what they thought their life would
or should be? How many feel so exhausted that life has become nothing more than
a hopeless carousel that never stops? How many have experienced disappointment
because their lives are far less than they might have hoped, and love feels far
more distant than they might have ever guessed? How many hearts are filled with
anger and resentment because of the ill health, or even the death, of someone
they love so very much? All of these experiences, as well as those we cherish,
have become our homeland. They are the place in which we dwell. And, this
season of Lent God calls us to leave this land in which we dwell, this land of
habit and attitudes, or anger and frustration, or of hopelessness and fear. God
calls us to be like Abraham, God calls us to faith.
When we hear the
word faith, we usually understand it to mean a set of beliefs, or dogmas, or
laws that we need to follow. Well, it is not. Faith is an experience that
affects the essence of who we are. It overwhelms us as it overwhelmed the
disciples of Jesus on the mountaintop. Faith causes us to view the world differently; to
realize that the world does not belong to me, or even to us. It causes us to see that life is not given to me for
my pleasure and gain, or because I have earned or deserve it. It is given to me
so that I can find joy in serving others.
God calls each
of us to leave behind the bitterness and the disappointment that we feel, the
anger and the refusal to forgive, in
order to be transfigured, transformed, by the love of God whose care for us
is without limit.
Faith is not
always easy. Faith is a matter of trust and not of mathematical surety. Faith
is a risk. Faith is a matter of the heart. Perhaps then we need to remember the
words of the fox in the book, The Little
Prince, who teaches the boy that it is only with the heart that one can see
rightly. What is essential is invisible
to the eye[2].
In this season
of Lent it is our hearts that are called to learn once again of God's love for
each of us, for all of us. It is God's love –amazing grace - that calls us to
move forward into a land that God promises will be filled with all good things.
The voices of
the familiar -of what we are leaving- will be strong and powerful. It is only
by keeping the promise, Jesus, before our eyes and in our hearts that we will
find the strength to venture forth on a journey of faith ■
[1] The Last Supper (Italian: Il
Cenacolo) is an original mural by Leonardo da Vinci executed between 1495
and 1497. It is on the wall on which was painted originally, in the refectory
of the Dominican convent of Santa Maria delle Grazie in Milan (Italy). The
painting was created for his patron, Duke Ludovico Sforza of Milan. Not a
traditional fresco, but a mural executed in tempera and oil on two layers of
plaster preparation stretched over plaster. It measures 460 cm. high by 880 cm.
wide. Many experts and art historians consider the Last Supper as one of the
best paintings in the world
[2] Chapter 21. The Little Prince (French: 'Le
Petit Prince'), first published in 1943, is a novella and the most famous
work of the French aristocrat writer, poet and pioneering aviator Antoine de
Saint-Exupéry (1900–1944).
