Will You Sit with Christ's Holy, Sorrowful Face this Lent?
- Elizabeth Zelasko
- Mar 28
- 4 min read
Understanding Christ's Love through Iconography and the Cross
"He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not." Isaiah 53:3
If you have ever loved someone who was suffering, you will know, deep in your soul, what it is to make this face.
This is not only the face of a man who has known suffering but the face of a man who is profoundly sorrowful for the suffering of his beloved. His expression reaches from the Cross, back in time to Adam and Eve, and forward through time to you, in your suffering today.
He was wounded for love of you, to save you, to suffer with you and for you. His love burns from the Cross not only for you but for the person in jail for unspeakable crimes, for those who stomp on his body in the Holy Eucharist, for the person who has abandoned their spouse and children, for the thief, for the murderer — he willingly suffers and dies for each of them, his lost sheep.
This exquisite example of Italian iconography is one of the oldest works hanging in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence, Italy.
I was so excited to be in the Uffizi that I did not think to peruse the gallery map in my hand, telling me what I would see first. I was like a kid in a candy shop, rushing to the first taste. I hustled up the stairs at a socially acceptable pace and followed the herd around the corner into the gallery on the right.
I turned that corner expecting to see a Botticelli, Da Vinci or Michelangelo — anything other than what I saw — but there he was.
The words rushed up from inside, “My Lord and my God!” Christ crucified, the Man of Sorrows, was hanging on a cross before me. His face poured out compassion, and love hit me as swiftly as death itself sometimes comes. I drew closer to the icon and stood there, not wanting to leave him.
If the stylized look of iconography is not to your taste, I invite you to appreciate it for a moment.
One of the many things that makes the Catholic Church so beautiful is that it is truly universal and rich in diversity. The Catholic Church is composed of one Latin and 23 Eastern churches — with so many forms of sacred art in our church, there is literally something for everyone.
Icons are easy to pass off as something “Orthodox,” but the truth is they are very much a part of our Catholic tradition, with almost all the Eastern Catholic churches using them.
Sometime between the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the Byzantine style of iconography made its way into Italy. Up to this point, almost all the sacred art in the peninsula had primarily been frescos (painted on wet plaster walls and ceilings) and mosaics (made up of tiny pieces of glass and stone set in mortar). When artists started painting on panels for the first time, they looked to the East for instruction in technique, style and symbolism.
Since iconography proved conducive to storytelling — the main function of sacred art since the outset — icons do not strive to depict the narratives of the Bible realistically but rather illustrate the profound significance of these stories.
In this icon, the crucifixion scene outside the city walls can now incorporate all the scenes of the Passion of Christ on either side of the Cross rather than a landscape.
When we see the image as a form of storytelling, we can appreciate its full contextual meaning and step into the story it is telling. Icons can be a visual textbook of the Bible and the saints, but they are also poetic and artistic renderings of what has happened in this world and what is currently happening in the next.
To this point, the Bible does not describe Christ's face as he hung on the cross, but we can infer that his love would have been painfully evident to everyone standing there — even through his unrecognizable face.
We have all been moved at one time or another by the portrayals of Christ's face in art, yet we lack certainty regarding his actual appearance. By their nature, icons allow us to see directly to the truth of what they represent rather than focusing solely on the artist’s representational skills. They lift the veil of the sanctuary, “open the window,” so to speak, and bring Heaven to us.
This icon, painted so many years ago, did that for me at the Uffizi.
Christ’s crucifixion hangs on a gallery wall in Florance, Italy. Some passersby will see this man on a cross and be converted to the faith. Some, just like when he hung on the Cross outside of the walls of Jerusalem, will pass by without seeing the reality of what he did.
As Good Friday approaches, we must remember this moment transcending time and space.
I invite you to sit with this image this Lent. Will you sit with him and his love for you from the Cross? Will you contemplate his sorrowful eyes? Will you kiss his wounds and ask for forgiveness? Will you kiss your own cross as you venerate his? And thank him for it? Or will it just be another day?
As we approach the end of the Great Fast, do not let Christ and the Triduum pass you by this year.
