Divine Mercy
In 2008, I was given life changing news- I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. This brought much uncertainty and fear in the following months and years. Oftentimes I would come to question my religion, Catholicism, and why such a loving God would bestow such tribulation onto me and my family.
My Grama, throughout the months after diagnosis, urged me to turn to Jesus for strength. I took her advice to heart, but in reality, struggled in doing so. On a trip to Rome in 2009, my Grama had a small wooden replica of “The Divine Mercy” painting blessed by Pope Benedict XVI, and gave it to me as a gift. My encounter with this piece is one I’ll never forget, and continue to experience today.
Unravelling the paper surrounding it, I uncovered a powerful image of Jesus Christ, outlined in a shiny gold, with rays of colorful beams pouring from his heart. I was initially drawn in by its aesthetics, in a way that my artistic senses of perception were pleased. However, upon taking time to admire the work, my perception widened to its utter beauty, in that it revealed to me a truth that nothing else could.
Underneath Jesus was a small scroll inscribed with “Gesu, Confido in Te!”. My Grama explained that this meant “Jesus, I trust in You”. It was in this moment that what was presented to me was “seen and taken as something true”(Gadamer 29). That ‘something’ was the depth of Jesus’ love, illustrated through the beams of light in what seems to be a constant back and forth movement. In Gadamer’s definition of play as a characteristic of beauty, he emphasizes the ability of the work to “bestow permanence” (Gadamer 47). I felt I was most certainly instilled with a sense of permanent change as a result of my encounter. No longer was it simply a painting, it meant something to me on an intimate level, & I allowed myself be changed by it. I became more than just an observer of the work, but rather an active participant. It was in this way that the encounter manifested Gadamer’s characteristic of beauty as play: the work was intended for something, only to be found by the my willingness to allow the work to move me (Gadamer 26). From Gadamer’s understanding, the painting was simply a vehicle through which the following beauty and truth were revealed to me: Jesus is powerful, loving, and someone I should entrust my fears and anxieties in.
This encounter also manifested Gadamer’s second characteristic of beauty: symbol. Symbol, in this sense, “rests upon an intricate interplay of showing and concealing” (Gadamer 33). This idea is further described as veiled and unveiled presence in the artwork itself. Unveiled aspects of my experience include what anyone could observe, including the wooden texture of the piece, as well as the blues and reds in the beams of light that poured from his heart. But the real essence of symbol from Gadamer’s understanding is not that the art “points toward a meaning, but rather allow that meaning to present itself”(Gadamer 34). The veiled aspect of my encounter was the realization of what my Grama meant in her urging me to turn to Jesus, and caused me to feel that I was a part of some greater love, and the invitation to contemplate exactly what that meant. This was not necessarily the intent of the work, but rather the holsitic encounter I individually experienced as a result of its beauty.
The final element of Gadamer’s definition of beauty is festival, which he defines as moments that are “not subject to the abstract calculation of temporal duration”, and act to “unite everyone” with a sense of inclusion (Gadamer 41). I feel that my encounter with Divine Mercy exhibits both parts of this definition. Unity, not only in my first encounter in the strengthening of relationship with my Grama, but also in the sense that it united me to the universal and endless love of Jesus, which he extends to the church as a whole. Similarly, I experience Gadamer’s authentic temporality in the work’s timeless nature, as it continues to bring me overwhelming joy and contemplation on a daily basis.
My encounter can also be deemed festive by Pieper’s complex definition of festival, which revolves around the affirmation of being/creation, done only with joy through ritual worship. Pieper describes this joy as a result of “receiving something beloved” (Pieper 25), which was the case not only in my physical acceptance of the gift, but also in the revelation of truth. The ritual praise aspect of Piepers definition of festivity aligns with my encounter’s continuous nature, in that every morning I wake up and admire the work, and praise God for the ability to trust in him, as the work illustrates and revealed to me. This daily nature of my encounter becomes akin to the “everlasting festival”, in which there are “no less than three hundred and sixty-five of them” (Pieper 50). However, work’s greatest sense of manifestation of festivity occurs in the celebration of Easter all around the world, during which it is displayed on alters as a visual of Jesus’ resurrection. It opens the opportunity for a shared unity in celebration as a whole church, despite its vast spread geographically.
As Professor O’Malley stated during office hours, “ in Catholicism, matter matters”. The physicality of the painting is not in itself the festival, but it is “derivative and secondary”, as a way to enhance the actual celebration (Pieper 53), but is an important element of praise and affirmation of creation, nonetheless.
