French artist Jacques Joseph “James” Tissot (1836-1902) was known for his paintings of European high society during the latter part of the 19th century. However, in 1885, he experienced a religious conversion at the Church of St. Sulpice in Paris, inspiring him to focus his work on the sacred, notably the life of Christ. His series of 365 illustrations was bought by the Brooklyn Museum in 1900. 

As Catholics and Orthodox Christians around the world prepare to celebrate Holy Week, culminating in a joint celebration of Easter, the Register presents five of Tissot’s works that reflect Christ’s path, with reflections from Susanna Spencer, Father Raymond de Souza, Jesuit Father Mitch Pacwa, Msgr. Roger Landry and Dominican Sister Mary Madeline Todd. 

Blessed Holy Week! 

— Register Staff

PALM SUNDAY

Jesus has been journeying steadily towards Jerusalem, preparing himself and his followers for his final Passover. As is custom and the law, all the people from the surrounding countryside are also on their way to the feast. 

It’s different this year — excitement fills the air. This man from Nazareth has been performing miracles. He raised a man from the dead! He made the blind see and the lame walk. All of the signs prophesied about the Messiah are present in this Man. 

The crowd surrounds Jesus as he approaches and enters Jerusalem upon a donkey, and they proclaim his Davidic kingship. “The crowd that paid homage to Jesus at the gateway to the city was not the same crowd that later demanded his crucifixion,” writes Pope Benedict XVI in Jesus of Nazareth: Holy Week. Many of those who reside in Jerusalem, who have only heard of this man from Galilee, are suspect and have no faith. They have not seen the wonders, and they are afraid to let go of their comfortable lives, especially the Pharisees and priests. 

We, as believers today, find ourselves placed in both crowds in the two Gospels read in the Palm Sunday liturgy. First, we remember the miracles God has wrought for us, waving our palms and singing, “Hosanna!” A few minutes later, we are shouting, “Crucify him!” as the Passion Gospel is read. 

Do we, too, have pride that we cannot let go of? Jesus came to die for the sins of both crowds. Let us place ourselves firmly among those who believe and follow along his path as he passes “through suffering into glory.”

Susanna Spencer holds an M.A. in theology and serves as the theological editor for Blessed is She.

 

SPY WEDNESDAY

On Spy Wednesday, Matthew 26 is read at Holy Mass. Three preparations are underway for Passover. 

First, there is the conspiracy of Caiaphas and his cohort, who “schemed to arrest Jesus secretly and kill him” (26:4).

Second, there’s the woman at Bethany. Jesus explains what she has done: “When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial” (26:12).

Third, the apostles are attending to the logistics of the Passover meal, which Jesus will eat with them (26:17-19). 

Judas separates himself from the apostles, condemns the woman’s gesture, and seeks out those desiring to kill Jesus. He has three choices; he went to the chief priests (26:15) and said, “What are you willing to give me if I hand him over to you?” 

Tissot shows us that Judas is not passive. He has sought out the assemblage of elders and priests. They are gathered in a clandestine conclave, but now turn to accommodate an interloper. He is not one of them, as the railing makes clear. He intrudes to make an offer. When treachery is afoot, unlikely accomplices are welcome.

Tissot gives us another figure, dominant in the foreground, walking away from Judas. Who is this man? 

Is he part of the Caiaphas cohort but simply passing by? Is he the first of the many passersby of the Passion, glancing backward with a sinister sympathy? 

Is he slinking away because he objects to the buying and selling of Jesus but does not have the courage to oppose it?

Or has he rejected their scheme and walks away with disgust on his face? Is this Nicodemus or Joseph of Arimathea? 

Perhaps Tissot wants us to consider our options. The Passion is a time for choosing. Judas makes his choice today. 

Father Raymond J. de Souza is the founding editor of Convivium magazine.

HOLY THURSDAY

Tissot’s painting of the Last Supper, one of four in his career, shows the moment of Jesus Christ distributing Holy Communion to the Twelve Apostles. The focus is on Jesus, with the gray-haired Peter and young John acting as his acolytes, holding the edge of his bright cloak so it would not impede the solemn moment of distributing his precious Body to each kneeling apostle. Christ’s brightness portrays him as the High Priest whose radiance illuminates the apostles closest to him. Christ’s eyes focus on the apostle receiving his Body, to illustrate that, in Communion, the infinite gaze of Christ is on the heart and soul of the recipient, establishing a deep intimacy with Jesus. This scene highlights the divine quality of the Mass.

In contrast, our eyes follow a line from Christ’s head to the head of a darkly clothed, slightly reddish-haired apostle kneeling with his eyes on the floor instead of on Christ: Judas Iscariot. He bears some resemblance to Tissot’s painting of Cain as he led Abel to be murdered. 

Tissot reflects St. Luke’s telling of the Institution of the Eucharist, in which after the apostles had received, Jesus announced: “But behold the hand of him who betrays me is with me on the table” (Luke 22:21). 

Judas had already received ordination as a priest and his first Holy Communion when Christ announced his coming betrayal. 

We can ask ourselves as we attend the Holy Thursday liturgy: Do I return the intimate focus of Christ in receiving Holy Communion, or do I receive unworthily like Judas Iscariot? 

Will I remain in my sin or will I repent and confess my failures? Such questions may have stirred Tissot’s conscience after his conversion experience; we can ask the same. 

Jesuit Father Mitch Pacwa hosts several EWTN programs, including EWTN Live and Scripture & Tradition.

GOOD FRIDAY

Most depictions of the crucifixion behold the Pierced One (John 19:37) from the viewpoint of spectators. 

Some, like St. John of the Cross and Salvador Dali, have helped us to look at Golgotha from the perspective of God the Father. 

In What Our Lord Saw From the Cross, the most famous of all 365 watercolors in his epic series The Life of Jesus Christ, Jacques Joseph “James” Tissot daringly helps us to imagine the scene from the perspective of the divine Priest and Victim. 

St. Paul liturgically urges us every Palm Sunday to have among us the same mindset that was in Jesus Christ, who, though God, emptied and humbled himself unto death on the cross (Philippians 2:5-12). 

In this masterpiece, Tissot allows us to enter prayerfully into Jesus’ visual cortex as he, like a serpent in the desert, was lifted up and drew all humanity to himself (John 3:14, 12:32). 

We are able to look out with him tenderly at his mother, as she holds her heart as the sword of sorrow is mystically piercing it; at Mary Magdalene, clinging to the foot of the cross; at St. John, grasping onto two fingers in his right hand, a profession of Christ’s eternal divinity as his humanity was approaching its death. With him, we see arrogant Pharisees, seated on horses who, unlike their riders, were bowing in adoration before their Creator. 

We behold Roman soldiers, standing or seated, taking in the awful spectacle, one awaiting with the lance that would soon open up the floodgates of Jesus’ heart. 

We glimpse the crowd of passersby, spectators and some stunned believers, for whom Jesus prayed to the Father for mercy, to whom he gave his mother, and for whose souls he thirsted. 

We see the tomb that would soon become the tabernacle of his body and the most famous sepulcher in history. 

We notice Jesus’ toes, an indication that at that moment he must have been standing straight up despite the nails, a sacrament of his voluntary participation and contraindicated triumph. 

And somewhere, we imagine Jesus lovingly seeing those whom Tissot didn’t depict: you and me. 

Msgr. Roger Landry is national director of The Pontifical Mission Societies USA.

HOLY SATURDAY

Only Matthew records this unprecedented occurrence depicted in James Tissot’s painting The Dead Appear in the Temple.

Immediately after Jesus “gave up his spirit,” there were visible signs of the history-altering magnitude of the death of the Son of God: “And behold, the veil of the sanctuary was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth quaked, rocks were split, tombs were opened, and the bodies of many saints who had fallen asleep were raised. And coming forth from their tombs after his resurrection, they entered the holy city and appeared to many” (Matthew 27:51-53). 

Before Holy Week, Jesus worked the seventh of his signs in Bethany by raising Lazarus from the dead, a prefiguring of his definitive Resurrection. Jesus had predicted his passion, death and resurrection, but those who witnessed or heard of Lazarus’ coming forth from the tomb received undeniable testimony to the power over death that is solely divine. Witnessing this divine power strengthened the disciples whose faith and hope would be deeply tested by the enormity of suffering and loss of Jesus’ passion.

Now, following Jesus’ final breath on the cross, and before the manifestation of Love’s triumph over death and sin, the Lord willed to allow the graves of many deceased to be opened and their souls to awaken. On the third day, these souls, by the saving power of the Resurrection, would be freed to return to the Father’s house in the grace and power of the Risen Lord. This is a vision stirring onlookers not to fear but to hope, so that we too can say with St. Paul, “Where, O death, is your victory? ... But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:55, 57).

Dominican Sister Mary Madeline Todd of the Congregation of St. Cecilia, serves as assistant professor of theology at Aquinas College in Nashville, Tennessee.

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See more of Tissot’s paintings chronicling Holy Week and the life of Christ here.