A Reflection on Salvador Dali’s“CHRIST OF ST. JOHNOF THE CROSS”
Article written by Fr. Emmanuel Nnadozie, OCD
Salvador Dali’s “CHRIST OF ST. JOHN OF THE CROSS”
When John of St. Matthias joined St. Teresa in beginning a new and reformed branch of the Carmelite Order, he changed his religious name to John of the Cross, thus signaling a trajectory that would be imbued with the Mystery of the Cross. Because of his support for the reform movement of his Order, John suffered imprisonment, mistreatment, and calumnies. When Our Lord asked him what reward he would ask for his labors, John answered: "To suffer and to be despised for Thee." John is truly “of the Cross.”
While meditating one day in the mid-1570s, John had a vision of Christ on the Cross. The saint reproduced on paper a sketch of the image he saw in the vision: the figure that came to be known as “The Drawing of the Crucifixion.” In that sketch, the Crucified Christ is hanging, as it were, in space, lifeless and contorted, turned leaning toward the world for which he died. Weighed down by the sins of the world, his head is bowed, his legs bent. Blood drips from his wounds. Christ wears a crown of thorns; the nails of the crucifixion are prominent. The austere figure speaks to a narrative of sacrifice. In this sketch, St. John of the Cross depicts the Suffering Servant of God: “despised and forsaken of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted; pierced through for our transgressions; crushed for our iniquities” (Is. 53: 3-5).
This sketch awakened in another artist a deeper meaning of what the saint sketched. In 1950, Spanish Surrealist Salvador Dali (1904-1989) saw this drawing by St. John of the Cross and was deeply impressed by it. He later reported experiencing a series of dreams inspired by the sketch, in which he felt that Christ was urging him to paint what he saw in the dreams. The result was the work that came to be known as “Christ of St. John of the Cross.” The painting also shows Jesus crucified, seen from above, his downcast head the focal point of the work. The lower part of the painting is of a peaceful landscape, the bay of Port Lligat. On the lower right are two fishermen busy in the harbor. When we bring together St. John’s sketch with Dali’s painting we find a Gospel paradox: the Cross leads to resurrection: from agony to ecstasy, darkness to light, abandonment to possession, denial of self to union with God.
CHRIST CRUCIFIED: A VIEW FROM ABOVE
St. John of the Cross’ drawing and Dali’s painting both offer a transcendental perspective on the Cross. Going beyond the conventionally historical representation of the Cross, they give us a view of the Cross from above–from the Heavenly Father’s perspective. St. John’s image merits special attention, especially in this Holy Season of Lent as we reflect on the Paschal Mystery. Dali’s modifications highlight the saint’s unique perspective on the Cross, positioning Christ in the full view of the Father.
The Father sees the eternal beauty of Christ—the metaphysical beauty of Christ-God in serene majesty even on the Cross—a beauty commented upon by St. Augustine of Hippo in his sermon on Psalm 45: “He then is beautiful in heaven, beautiful on earth; beautiful in the womb, beautiful in his parents’ arms, beautiful in his miracles, beautiful under the scourge, beautiful when inviting to life... beautiful in laying down his life, beautiful in taking it up again, beautiful on the cross, beautiful in the sepulcher, beautiful in heaven.”
Consequently, Dali’s rendition of John of the Cross’ vision creates a work of beauty, a crucified Christ, mindful of the wounds, but without bloody sores. Here, the nails are not prominent, and Christ does not wear a crown of thorns. His countenance is hidden, facing down toward the world, his arched arms forming a triangle with the weight of the body. The musculature of his back and shoulders is highlighted, creating a sense of strength and sovereignty. Thus, Dali painted this Christ without physical damage. This practical strategy expresses a spiritual message: the visible wounds of Christ are details among others of the story; but the beauty of his love, in his suffering and death, and his divinity are the most important features of his sacrifice, which Dali represents well.
Dali’s modifications on St. John of the Cross’ original sketch were inspired by his second dream, in which he “saw the painting without the anecdotal attributes: only the metaphysical beauty of the Christ-God... My aesthetic ambition in that painting was the opposite of all the Christs painted by most modern painters, who interpreted it in the expressionist and contortionist sense, provoking emotion through ugliness. My main concern was to paint a beautiful Christ as the same God that he embodies."
The view from above sees the Cross from the Johannine perspective of the moment of glory: “Father, the hour has come; glorify Your Son, that the Son may glorify You, even as You gave Him authority over all flesh, that to all whom You have given Him, He may give eternal life” (Jn. 17: 1-2). The Cross is the place where the worthy Lamb that was slain begins to receive power, wealth, wisdom, strength, honor, glory and blessing (Rev. 5: 12). Seen from this perspective, we are called not just to pity Christ on the Cross, but to be inspired by the beauty of his love, and so to take up the crosses of daily life with love.
THE HIDDEN WOUNDS OF JESUS
St. John of the Cross’ original drawing features prominently the wounds and the nails of crucifixion. In be-holding Christ on the Cross, the focus is often on the five external Sacred Wounds Christ sustained on the Cross—the marks of the nails on his hands and feet and the wound on his side pierced through with a spear. Theologically speaking, the wounds are the channels through which Jesus offered us his blood as the New Covenant for the salvation of the world.
Dali’s painting conceals the external wounds, giving the opportunity to reflect on the wounds of his heart caused by the sins of the world—the internal wounds of love caused by his thirst for souls. In the writings of St. John of the Cross, the expression “wounding” has a special significance. It is a technical term to describe a profound spiritual experience because of the “touches” of God. In the “Spiritual Canticle,” for example, the Bride moans: “Where have you hidden, Beloved, and left me moaning? You fled like the stag after wounding me; I went out calling you, but you were gone.” These wounds are wounds of love, of openness, and longing for the Other. Indeed, we are wounded by our encounter with an all-powerful and all-holy God, at once experiencing the excruciating pain of estrangement from a God we long to embrace fully. Even Christ was wounded in this way on the Cross for our sake as he cried on the Cross: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken Me?”
A LOVE STRONGER THAN DEATH
In Dali’s painting of St. John’s Christ, the Sacred Heart of Jesus is not reflected externally, but implicated in the artistic display of a strength that overcomes the ignominy of the Cross. Dali paints us a victorious Christ. He shows that the Christ of St. John of the Cross conquers death through love. In Dali’s “Christ of St. John of the Cross,” Jesus hanging on the Cross has disarmed the powers and authorities and has made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the power of his love on the Cross (Col. 2:15). Thus, the Cross is the place where goodness conquers evil, where darkness is overcome by light, where the seed of the woman finally crushes the serpent’s head (Gen. 3: 15), where the charges against us have been destroyed and nailed to the Cross. Above all, it is where love conquers hatred and all forms of malice.
THE CROSS IN OUR CULTURE
Some local churches today engage in some pious devotions that “re-enact” the Passion of the Lord, out-side of the Liturgy. The intent is to recapture the historical moment of Christ’s Passion, to move viewers to sorrow, penitence, and to compassion.
Excellent as these practices may be, there is a need for a much deeper insertion of the Paschal Mystery in our personal and collective lives—to allow the Paschal Mystery to dialogue with our times, not necessarily to rehearse it. The intention of the celebration of the Paschal Mysteries is not merely to engage us in a historical re-enactment of the Passion of our Lord but in a living out of its effects in our daily lives.
“The Church’s long tradition insists that what happened once in history passes over into the mystery of the assemblies’ liturgical/sacramental celebrations. What the Paschal Triduum actually celebrates is mystery, not history; anamnesis, not mimesis” (The Carmelite Ordo, 2018, 84). The sketch and the painting of the Crucified Christ allow us to enter into the mystery, not necessarily the history of the Passion and Cross of the Lord.
Let us follow this reflection with some personal questions regarding our devotion to the Cross of Christ. What strikes you when you look at the Crucifix? What makes the Cross of Christ a precious symbol for you? What does beholding Christ on the Cross say to you? Many devotions have arisen among Christians from contemplating Christ on the Cross. What can St. John of the Cross and Dali add to your specific devotion to the Cross?
Article first published in Apostolate of the Little Flower Vol. 86, No. 1
Fr. Emmanuel Nnadozie, OCD
Fr. Emmanuel J. Nnadozie is a Nigerian Carmelite of the Anglo-Irish Province of the Discalced Carmelite Friars. He was ordained a priest in 1981 and has worked in different capacities in his home Vicariate of Nigeria. Most of his priestly engagement has been in the areas of seminary formation, retreat work, counseling and pastoral ministry. He trained as a pastoral counselor at Loyola College in Maryland (2002-2005). Presently he is doing a doctoral program in counselor education and supervision at St. Mary’s University, San Antonio. He brings with him a rich background in Carmelite spirituality in this reflection.