Tuesday, April 16, 2019

Holy Week, part 4

We might not be a World Heritage Site, but, these windows!

I’m struck by the linen strips.

The new-born Jesus, wrapped in swaddling bands by his mother, Mary, and laid in a manger (which would have been a shallow bowl hollowed from a stone ledge)...

The infant Jesus, still wrapped tight against the night chill, carried off by his parents to Egypt, in search of asylum from a tyrannical ruler. Held close by his mother...

The man Jesus stretched on the execution-scaffold. His linen unravelled, only just (and a-historically) preserving his modesty...

We are not shown the corpse, taken down from the cross; washed and wrapped for one last time in linen strips by his mother; cradled in her arms; carried off to a safe place; laid in the tomb (again, on a shallow depression on a stone ledge: so many echoes); kissed goodnight xxx

But we are led there, in our imagination, step-by-step by-linen-strip by the genius of the artist-of-faith Leonard Evetts.

We are not shown the linen strips left by the risen Lord when he walked out of the tomb. Leaving them as a sign to be discovered, a sign not only of life but also of love.

Then again, perhaps we are.

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