The collaboration between Don Alessio Fucile, an art expert, and the Shalom blog continues. Don Alessio will guide us in exploring the most important moments of the liturgical year through beautiful works of art that, besides inspiring wonder at their splendor, can help us better understand Sacred Scripture and Jesus' message.
Don Alessio presents today Giovanni Bellini's “Presentation at the Temple.”
The work's source of inspiration: Mantegna's work and familiar faces
The work is housed in the Querini Stampalia Gallery in Venice and dates from around 1460-64. The Venetian painter was inspired by a similar work by his brother-in-law Andrea Mantegna, with whom he also shared some of the figures depicted, perhaps members of their family. It is interesting how art becomes a means of recounting intimate stories - family stories, in fact. As can easily be seen, it features an original and unusual compositional approach: the figures emerge with monumental plasticity, and the scene conveys a feeling charged with mystery and veiled meanings. The human dimension of the scene is also emphasized by the absence of the saints' halos and by the softer color palette, arranged in alternating white and red tones.

The depth and drama of the work: the destiny of Jesus and Mary, between the cross and the resurrection
In all likelihood, we are looking at the moment when the Child is returned by the elderly Simeon to Mary, and on the lips of the holy old man God's blessing gives way to the oracle of the cross: “and a sword will pierce your soul” (Lk 2:35). The episode is full of drama. Although serene, the faces betray an awareness of the gravity of the moment; we are within a time pregnant with mystery, in which “the Word became flesh” (Jn 1:14). As the Gospel according to Luke tells us, Simeon was a righteous and God-fearing man who was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit had revealed to him that he would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Messiah.

Mary’s intimacy with her Son throughout his life was a period in which the mystery of Jesus was gradually revealed. Mary’s faith grew, reaching a crucial point on this fortieth day, when the Child was presented at the Temple. Here, a new element appeared to her that clarified certain matters that were still mysterious to her. Our Lady entered, one might say, onto the path to Calvary, understanding that the destiny of that child was to give his life for the salvation of humanity. Mary welcomes her Son and seems uncertain whether to hold him in her arms to protect him from the imminent pain or to give him without reserve, herself participating in the offering of her Son. In reality, rather than Mary, it would be the Church that would raise Christ upon its altars for the adoration of all peoples: for two thousand years, the Church has been the cradle in which Mary lays Jesus and entrusts him to the contemplation of all nations.
The bands that wrap the Child’s body, as is typical of many Nativity representations, allude to his death, but not laid in the tomb; rather, upright, standing, raised in the glory of the Resurrection. Note that he is standing on a cushion to emphasize his preciousness and importance. Neither laid in the cradle nor placed in the tomb, but offered.
As this work was intended to adorn an altar, it served as a reminder to the faithful who contemplated it to see in that child the Eucharistic bread that the priest broke on the same altar to give to them. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn 6:53-54). It is the Bread, pledge of future life, broken for the salvation and happiness of humanity. Thus, the Resurrection entered history; the Eucharist is its gateway.
The testimony and relevance of the work: Jesus’ gift and God’s love, between history and eternity
God patiently and constantly awaits humanity to fill it with his love, to give it his consolation, to wipe the sweat from its tired, sorrowful brow: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Mt 11:28). The idea of God revealed to us by Christ is beyond imagining: a Father impatient for the prodigal son, a Father who waits day and night, anxiously longing for his son's return, a Father who rejoices and celebrates when he returns safe and sound, even if dirty and stained by sin and by the offense against him. Only Mary seems conscious of this.
No one looks at Jesus: a man, perhaps a self-portrait of Mantegna, his brother-in-law, and a woman look toward the right; that is, they face the past, tradition, and cannot see the newness inaugurated by Christ. They look toward the east, the source of earthly light, and fail to realize that the true light is already among them. Their hearts are far from the psalmist who urged: “Look to him and you will be radiant” (Ps 34:6). Anna of Phanuel, the first on the left, wrapped in mourning clothes, is also placed in the past, but unlike the other figures, she looks toward the Lord. She was a prophetess; “she began to speak about the child to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem” (Lk 2:38). With her presence, Anna halts the nostalgic flight toward the past: salvation is now, God is here. Luke's text says that she “served God with fasting and prayer” (Lk 2:37). Prayer is union with God, a familiar, intimate, spiritual conversation that gives strength and helps us see reality differently, from a new perspective; it is the dialogue of children with the Father.

Finally, on the right, a man looks directly at us; he could be Bellini himself, the author of the painting, who may have intended this as his signature on the work. In this way, he engages the observer and draws attention to what is taking place within the scene. Behind the elderly man looking toward Simeon could be Joseph. As was customary, he was depicted as advanced in age to safeguard Mary's virginity. The invitation this work extends to us is to welcome Jesus, like Mary, through assiduous communion with Him, who makes Himself present in the Eucharistic Bread.
What feelings does this wonderful work inspire in you? Tell us in the comments!

