I receive daily Google alert messages whenever certain key terms and phrases appear on the InterWebbernet. “Lucas Cranach” is one of the phrases I’m scanning for, or, should I say, that my good friend Mr. Google looks for all the time. Up popped today a journal article reviewing a recent exhibit of the paintings of Lucas Cranach Elder and Younger and their workshop. Wow, it must have been some exhibit! They had to split it up over two venues. The point of the exhibit was to show the connection between Cranach and the court of the Brandenburg rulers and the growing influence of Berlin on the art world of Germany. The first page of the article is provided, and there is a tantalizing last sentence at the bottom of the page.

This is stunning.

I was attending a publishing conference in Nashville, Tennessee and staying right across the street from the Frist Center for the Visual Arts, which is featuring an exhibit titled Masterpieces of European Painting, featuring works on loan from a wonderful museum in Puerto Rico. Some real gems are in the collection.

I approached the guide desk at the entrance to the exhibit and asked, “Do you have any Cranach’s?” They said, “Who?” and then my eye caught one in the first room in the exhibit and I said, “That’s a Cranach!” Sure enough, it was. The museum staff was duly impressed, actually, stunned that anyone would know who Cranach is and would recognize one of his works from across the room. Poor Cranach.

The painting is Judith With the Head of Holofernes, ca. 1530, one of at least a dozen versions that Cranach painted. I’ve seen others, here and here and here and here, the last link takes you to a version of the scene said to be the last one Cranach painted, in 1545.

In my opinion, by far, the one held by the museum in Puerto Rico is the best of any I’ve seen. I was able nearly literally to put my nose on the painting as I inspected it closely. It is quite a striking juxtaposition between the gory decapitated head and the tranquil young woman holding the sword. What is particularly unique about this painting is that, unlike most of the other paintings of this scene by Cranach, in this one Judith is staring directly at you.

I grabbed a photo on my iPhone, not great, but…better than nothing.

Here is more information about the subject of the painting and I’ll insert another version of the scene.

Cranach executed more than a dozen versions of the subject of Judith and Holofernes throughout his career. The main prototype appears to be the large panel of circa 1530, now in the Staatsgalerie, Stuttgart (Friedländer and Rosenberg, Cranach, 1978, pp. 115-116, no. 230). The present work has been identified as a mature work by the artist, datable to circa 1545. It is also the most diminutive of the known autograph versions but sacrifices nothing in the quality of its draftsmanship or exquisite detail. The juxtaposition between the energetic veins in the marble shelf, the gruesome coldness of Holofernes’s severed head and the sensitivity of Judith’s features reveals the artist at his most expressive.

The subject of Judith and Holofernes became popular in the Middle Ages as an image of virtue overcoming vice or an allegory of man’s misfortunes at the hands of scheming women. Judith, a patriotic Jewish heroine, became a symbol of the Jews’ struggle against their ancient oppressors in the Near East. The Assyrian army, under the command of their general Holofernes, had laid siege to the Jewish city of Bethulia. When the inhabitants were on the point of capitulating, Judith, a wealthy young widow, devised a scheme to save them. She adorned herself ‘so as to catch the eye of any man who might see her’ (Old Testament, Apocrypha; 10:5) and set off with a maid into the enemy lines. By pretending to desert her people, she gained access to Holofernes and proposed to him a fictitious scheme for overcoming the Jews. After she had been several days in the camp, Holofenes became enamored of her and planned a banquet to which she was invited. When it was over and they were alone, he intended to seduce her but he was quickly overcome with liquor. Judith seized his sword and with two swift blows severed his head. Taking the head in a sack, Judith and her maid made their way back to Bethulia before the deed was discovered. The murder threw the Assyrians into disarray and they fled, pursued by the Israelites.

Here is information about the Museu de Arte de Ponce, a fascinating story of art collecting.

Founded in 1959 in Ponce, Puerto Rico, the Museo de Arte de Ponce (MAP) includes more than 3,600 works of art from Europe, Latin America, and Puerto Rico. Masterpieces of European Painting from Museo de Arte de Ponce presents sixty of the museum’s most extraordinary Italian, Spanish, Flemish, Dutch, French, British, German, and Austrian paintings dating from the fourteenth to the twentieth century. This traveling exhibition marks the first time that an extensive selection of works from MAP has been presented in the United States. The opportunity arose from the temporary closure of the museum, which is now undergoing a major renovation and expansion.

Luis A. Ferré (1904–2003), a native of Ponce and the founder of MAP, conceived of the museum after his first trip to Europe in 1950. Ferré was a successful industrialist, philanthropist, and gifted pianist who served as governor of the Commonwealth of Puerto Rico from 1968 to 1972. Of his many accomplishments, he considered MAP to be the most important. With a limited budget and the advice of art historian Julius Held (1905–2002), Ferré sought out and acquired paintings of high quality and displayed a remarkable lack of concern for prevailing tastes and fashions of the time. He wanted the collection to impart a sense of discovery for scholars, artists, and especially the general public. Masterpieces of European Painting from Museo de Arte de Ponce affirms the pioneering nature of Ferré’s vision. Art Museum.

Readers of this blog know that one of the hobby-horses I like to ride frequently is the issue of art and our worship spaces. Simply put, there has been a dreadful decline in the beauty which once marked a Lutheran place of worship. No matter how humble, Lutherans traditionally attempted to use as much art as they could possibly afford. Now I notice trends toward making our worship spaces look more like the big-box non-denominational churches we see sprinkled throughout American suburbia. It is not only stodgy confessional Lutherans like me who are feeling angst over these issues. Over on the EVANGEL blog, one of my fellow contributors put up a post well worth our attention, titled The Attack of the Ugly Babies. Here is a snippet to whet your appetite:

“A sermon ‘zinger’ used to encourage church plants instead of resuscitating old churches goes like this: ‘It is easier to have a baby than to raise the dead!’ Jesus, however, did only the latter. Evangelism is a bit more complicated than the sound bite conveys, simply because people are. Whether or not they are consciously aware of it, many non-Christians are seeking a deeper, ecclesial reality in their life, not a gospel that caters to their present one.”

~ Matthew Milliner, “Attack of the Ugly Babies,” Evangel

NASA has released new images of earth. Stunning. Absolutely. Stunning.

Lower Center Panel of the Altar Painting in St. Mary Church, Wittenberg, Germany. By Lucas Cranach.

From The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod’s FAQ page….

Question:

Is the use of crucifixes a Roman Catholic practice? Doesn’t the empty cross provide a better symbol for Lutherans? How does the LCMS feel about using a crucifix in church? [Note: A crucifix is a cross with a statue of the crucified Christ on it].

Answer:

A common misunderstanding among some some Lutherans is the opinion that a crucifix, or the use of a crucifix, is a “Roman Catholic” practice. The history of Lutheranism demonstrates that the crucifix was a regular and routine feature of Lutheran worship and devotional life during Luther’s lifetime and during the period of Lutheran Orthdoxy. It was also the case among the founding fathers of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. If you were to visit most of the original congregations of the LCMS here in the United States you would find lovely crucifixes adorning their altars, and in addition, beautiful statues on the altar of Christ and the four evangelists, or other such scenes. There is nothing uniquely Roman Catholic about this.  Many Lutherans and Lutheran congregations use crucifixes. Crucifixes are used in the chapels of both of our seminaries.

Lutheranism has always considered the crucifix to be a powerful reminder of the sacrifice our Lord Jesus made for us and our salvation, on the cross. A crucifix vividly brings to mind the Apostle Paul’s divinely inspired words, “We preach Christ and Him crucified”  (1 Cor. 1:23).

Interestingly enough, while there is certainly nothing “wrong” with an “empty” cross, the practice of using an “empty cross” on a Lutheran congregation’s altar comes more from non-Lutheran sources. At the time of the Reformation there was conflict between Lutherans and Reformed Christians over the proper place of pictures, images, statues and the like in the church. Lutherans stood with historic Christendom in realizing that such art in the church was not wrong, and was a great aid for helping to focus devotional thoughts on the truths of the Word of God, no greater truth can be found that the death of Jesus Christ our Lord for the world’s salvation.

The “empty cross” is not a symbol of Christ’s resurrection, as some say, for the fact is that the cross would have been empty regardless of whether or not Christ had risen from the grave. The point to be kept clear here is that both an “empty cross” and a crucifix, symbolize the same thing: the death of Christ our Lord for the salvation of the world. Many feel that the crucifix symbolizes this truth more clearly and strikingly. That has been the traditional opinion of historic Lutheranism, until the last fifty years ago, due to the influence we will now mention.

Some Lutherans began to move away from crucifixes during the age of Lutheran Pietism, which rejected much of Lutheran doctrine and consequently many Lutheran worship practices. At the time, Lutheran Pietists, contrary to the clear postion of Luther and the earlier Lutherns, held that symbols such as the crucifix were wrong. This was never the view of historic Lutheranism.  Here in America, Lutherans have always felt a certain pressure to “fit in” with the Reformed Christianity that predominates much of the Protestant church here. Thus, for some Lutherans this meant doing away with things such as crucifixes, and vestments, and other traditional forms of Lutheran worship and piety. It is sad when some Lutherans are made to feel embarrassed about their Lutheranism by members of churches that teach the Word of God in error and who do not share Lutheanism’s clear confession and practice of the full truth of the Word of God.

Lutheranism has always recognized that the use of any symbol (even the empty cross) can become an idolatrous practice, if in any way people are led to believe there is “power in the cross” or that a picture or representation of a cross has some sort of ability, in itself, to bring us into relationship with Christ and His Gospel. Any of God’s good gifts can be turned against Him in this life and become an end in themselves.

Lutherans have never believed that banning or limiting proper artwork in the church is the way to prevent its improper use. Rather, we believe that proper teaching and right use is the best way, and the way that is in keeping with the gift of freedom we have in Christ to use all things to the glory and honor of God. Thus, many Lutherans use and enjoy the crucifix as a meaningful reminder of our Lord’s suffering and death. It might interest you to know that our Synod’s president has a beautiful crucifix adorning the wall of his office, constantly reminding him and visitors to his office of the great love of God that is ours in Christ Jesus our Lord.

In short, and this is the most important point of all: there is nothing contrary to God’s Holy Word, or our Lutheran Confessions, about the proper use of the crucifix, just as there is nothing wrong with the proper use of an empty cross, or any other church symbol by which we are reminded of the great things God has done for us. We need to guard against quickly dismissing out of hand practices that we believe are “too Roman Catholic” before we more adequately explore their use and history in our own church.

In Christian freedom, we use either the crucifix or an empty cross and should not judge or condemn one another for using either nor not using either symbol of our Lord’s sacrifice for our sins.

I was reading around on blog sites, as is my wont, [how often do you get to use that phrase? 'as is my wont'], but I digress. I bumped into some conversations about the kind of church art, decoration and ornamentation that American Lutherans learned to associate with the Lutheran Church. For some, perhaps many American Lutherans, a “Lutheran Church” is fairly plain and “stripped down.” But as much as Lutherans think that this is somehow the “gold standard” for Lutheran churches, the fact is, this is most certainly not true. Even those Lutherans who think that their church is “plain” would be surprised by the reaction from many other Reformed and Evangelical Christians. That there is an altar at all in Lutheran churches is absolutely shocking to the classic Calvinist type of American protestant. That tradition, in its more pure forms/strands, regards any image in a church to be a direct violation of the Second Commandment, as they so number the Commandments, “Thou shalt make no graven images.”

And so, if you happen to find yourself in a conservative Presbyterian Church, chances are it will be extremely plain, with no decorations at all. This “minimalism” impacted Lutheranism, already back in the late 1600s and early 1700s, and then to an ever increasing degree under the influence of Pietism, which tended to eschew outward symbolism, and emphasized the “interior life” more. The other influence of history on American Lutheran tastes is the simple fact that most Lutheran immigrants were dirt poor and so when they constructed their places of worship, they did as much as they could, but access to artists and sculptors was limited, and funding was equally limited, so as a result, any number of smaller churches were often very plain. There are many notable exceptions, to be sure. The end results of a combination of factors: the influence of Pietism, the influence of being surrounded by American Protestants of a Calvinist tradition, and simple economics, resulted in several generations of Lutherans becoming used to Lutheran churches that are fairly plain. Consequently, there are any number of Lutherans who recoil in shock when they see a richly decorated Lutheran church interior, such as one finds in spectacular grandeur at the older city churches in both Saint Louis and Fort Wayne, Indiana. Here I’m thinking of Holy Cross here in St. Louis, or St. Paul Lutheran Church or Zion Lutheran Church in Fort Wayne. The same can be found elsewhere, in Detroit, Milwaukee, Indianapolis, and so forth.

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Per the request of a number of, as we say here in St. Louis, “Youse guys” … a little video tour of the artwork in my office. Sorry for the audio variations…the iPhone does a decent job with little videos, but you have to stay close to it as you talk!

No, I will not videotape myself doing my version of the happy dance, but I am. Why? Because I received today a copy of Cranach’s Weimar altar painting for my office. Talk about inspirational . . . being able to gaze and meditate on it as I work. Wow. Thanks to BGK!!

I ordered a book from Germany titled Historische Bilder zum Evangelisch-Lutherischen Gottesdienst, which translated, is Historical Paintings of the Evangelical Lutheran Divine Service. It is by Helmut Schatz, published as a digital printing by Druckerei Hage GmbH, Kösching. It contains a large collection of images from throughout Germany and Denmark, one from the Czech Republic as well. When and where I find them on the Internet and am able to copy and paste them into my blog, I will.

Here is one from Denmark. It is found on the altar at the Torslunde Church, a church that dates back to the year 1,200. The painting dates from 1561. As you can see it is painted on the altar itself.

Here is a close up:

I recently happened across this Roman Catholic “holy card” of the stoning of St. Stephen. As I’ve often noticed before, St. Stephen is depicted as looking, frankly, like a young woman. There is a disconcerting effiminate quality about a lot of these saints cards. Now, aside from the fact that Stephen was not stoned wearing vestments, one can’t help but wonder why it is in so many of these holy cards the saints are looking quite feminine. It is just something I’ve noticed. Not sure what it means. You’d almost think St. Stephen was one of the first deaconesses.

Today we commemorate Lucas Cranach and Albrecht Dürer, artists. In honor of this day and their memory, here is a presentation, and explanation of, what I regard to be the finest example of the uniquely Lutheran art that resulted from the great Gospel rediscovery in the Sixteenth Century, and appropriately, what a magnificent painting to meditate on and ponder as we move into Holy Week. Enjoy, and God bless!

Lucas Cranach the Younger finished the painting in 1555, and even after 450 years, there is a powerful luminous warmth to it that draws you in, causing you to ponder and meditate on the image it presents. The painting still stands where it was originally placed, over the altar of the St. Peter and Paul Church in Weimar, Germany. The placement of this painting over the altar is purposeful, for the Lutheran Reformation, far from casting aside the Lord’s Supper as central to the worship of the Church, restored it to its proper place as the gift from Christ that it is. Communicants coming forward to receive the Supper, would have this painting before them, so large there was no chance of missing its every detail, details which proclaim and declare the peace, comfort, joy and power of the good news of Jesus Christ, and the love of God in Christ for all humanity.

“The Weimar Altarpiece is a stunning achievement of Cranach the Younger. The center panel is dominated by Christ on the cross, by the risen Christ triumphing over death and the devil and by the group of people proclaiming the Gospel, with Lucas Cranach the Elder himself standing out in the foreground as the redeemed sinner. On the inner side panels, which carry the portraits of Duke John Frederick and his family in the heavy, dark splendor of realistic interior, the mellow chromatic radiance of the center panel is sumptuously heightened. In contrast with the rich, subdued colors of the side panels, the center one is as radiant as a sunny day. The most delicate parts of the painting are pervaded by light; it is omnipresent, like a theological conviction.” (Schade 1980, 93).

What is the message of this painting? The heart of the Lutheran Reformation: the doctrine of justification by faith alone in Christ, by grace alone, apart from any works; indeed, this is the very heart of the Christian faith itself.

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By Souren Melikian

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Do you remember a month ago when I mentioned that this Cranach painting was going up for auction? Well, it did and it sold for … ready for this? … over $7.6 million dollars. Here’s the story.

I’m a typography geek. Always have been. Always will be. I love not only words, but the way words are put onto a page. And I discovered an abolute delight of a documentary: Helvetica. Yes, a documentary devoted to a typeface. Sounds boring, I know. But, it is not.

If you enjoy the art of typography, then you must see this documentary on the world’s most ubiquitous typeface: Helvetica. It is one of the most legible typefaces ever created, arguably the most legible. You probably don’t even notice it, but it is everywhere. Some find its ominipresence distressing, others regard it as comforting.

This documentary tells the story of the typeface and how it has been received, used, and either accepted or rejected. I’ve decided to switch this blog site over to Helvetica, and I like what I see.

Years ago I chose two main faces for as much of my work as possible: Optima and Minion. They are still two of my favorites, but press me on my favorite typeface of all time and it will always be Helvetica. I never knew why. Now I do. And, if you watch this documentary, just count how many times a certain brand of computer appears.