My Reflections on Altdorfer nativity painting
2017 Christmas
John 8:12
Darkness and Destruction dominate the landscape. It is truly a time of “night-ness;” a projection of human brokenness and fear, vulnerability and hopelessness. The night presses hard against the light, wanting to push the deep dark shadows of despair into this moment of promise.
At the side, a two-trunked tree stands like a column of black smoke arising from burning rubbish. Even the surrounding vegetation is muted and stunted, without bud or flower. Exposed roots hang like tentacles from the barren sod to find despair written upon both these crumbling ruins and that of nature herself.
Of interest is that the dominant feature in the foreground is a collapsed wall of bricks. Made of “clay,” they reflect the temporal and finite nature shared within the baseness of human origins. Relentless Time has broken and scattered them like so many dead leaves. Once proud markers of strength, the bricks speak their message of eventual brokenness, to become returned to the soil from which they came. Familiar in some strange way, to those which now adorn our lives of grandeur, chipped and tarnished, they whisper their warning of the “vanities of vanities.”
A precarious brick column leans in the foreground, teetering, upon near collapse. By all appearances, supported by only a single brick, this heavy column should have fallen long ago. Contrary to what one would imagine, it proudly stands defying all sense of earthly expectations, its balance strikingly challenging our familiar laws of nature. Furthermore, this same inversion of perception is also demonstrated in the wall, with its inner corner facing outwards, rather than inwards, as one would normally construct a building. It is the opposite of what we would design; and it forms another inversion of our conceptual expectations. It, too, seems to stand against our understanding of how reality should be commonly viewed and experienced.
What is Altdorfer trying to convey in this disruption to our sense of familiar structure and nature? Could it be to confront one with a reality outside our usual perceptions, something unexpected and unexplainable; something almost mysterious? Is there more to earthly insight than meets the eye? Could it be that this teasing with the unusual and unorthodox is as if to say, “This event, the Nativity, the Incarnation of Jesus Christ introduces a reality beyond earthly imaginings.” It represents an “inbreaking” of the infinite and eternal into a broken-down world. Divinity arrives in unexpected form to turn the world’s despair upside down, inside out, beyond all earthly conventions and convictions, even the laws of nature. The Mighty King arrives as vulnerable babe, throne sacrificed for a manger, serving to die in order to give life to slaves to sin.
The only structure still appearing intact are the stairs leading up to the second story door. They lead to what seems to be a neglected door, unused and forgotten. One wonders if it symbolizes a forgotten Way. At the moment the door is closed. Curiosity calls us to open this door. “Where does the door lead?” we want to know. But this is a door leading to an experience unknown to us; and we need someone to confidently open the door for us into the Way of our intended purpose. Is it too much to hope that this could be a door out of this scene of suffering and in to a realm of hope? A simple Door; but perhaps a life-giving Door at that.
An ox chews lazily on the hay, while a donkey stands next to Mary. Both simple beasts of burden; and they are here, too. Altdorfer reminds us that this is a scene of poverty and of great need. Even Joseph and Mary seem subdued in the shadows. There are no shepherds bringing their praises, nor wise men bearing gifts. There are none of influence or affluence. For the One to lift and bear our burdens has already arrived. It will be He, the Christ child, who will be known as our “Good Shepherd.” It will be He who will live amongst the poor and the needy, and compassionately care for them, and give them hope.
It is not hard to notice how the stark contrast between that of light and darkness dominates this painting. This contrast proclaims the ever-present conflict between good and evil, between Truth and delusion. The battle that was first engaged in a beautiful Garden (”for you shall not surely die”), now pivots in a humble, straw-filled manger. It is another inversion of sorts. Contrary to our expectations and understandings. For the power of sin was sired by the serpent; and defeated by a Savior, born as a babe.
A full moon reminds us of the “fullness of time” when divine hope will shine through the world’s dark despair. This “fullness of time” speaks of a formative moment in time and space…a unique, extraordinary time of fulfillment. For this is a time of both revelation and redemption. In this moment a gift of Hope is given to Humankind.
Two groups of angels are presented in this nativity painting. One heavenly framed group of three angels announce Christ’s arrival; while three other angels are earthbound, ministering to the new born babe.
Perhaps to emphasize Christ’s dual nature, the two groups of angels, whether heavenly or earthly presented, are adorned in the Father’s golden glory. For this is a royal event; the heralding of a King, who reigns over both heaven and earth.
Altdorfer presents the Christ child in a most interesting way. Not cradled in Mary’s arms, as frequently portrayed, but rather, surrounded by the glory of angels. Furthermore, Christ is painted in the similar golden tones as the attending angels – almost blending into their heavenly glory – tiny, unobtrusive, almost an afterthought in the painting, yet front and center and shrouded in Divine Glory; as if to highlight Christ’s Divinity in the midst of our earthly despair. As the angels gently lower the Christ Child upon the sheet of linen, it is as though He is yet to touch the barrenness of earth. And the linens that soon will be draped around His naked form to give him warmth and protection will soon become an unraveled shroud of mystery as He is released from His earthly redemptive death; and resumes His Divine heavenly form and position at the right hand of God the Father.
But Altdorfer doesn’t stop in surprising us here: he positions the Christ child in a very unusual manner; not lying horizontally, nor head up; but upside down, head first! We are not used to seeing the Christ child portrayed this way, and it causes us to pause a bit.
The Christ child’s unusual position, upside down, contrasts with our, and the world’s, vision of right-sidedness. Again, an inversion of sorts which speaks to something or someone that is unexpected or much different than our usual perceptions. Jesus Christ, the Holy Babe, intrudes “head first” into time and space. His incarnation, this Light, will break into the darkness of despair and bring hope into a world of brokenness. For He proclaims, “I am” the Light of the world.”
On the horizon, a tiny patch of blue sky heralds the breaking dawn of a new day.
The darkness will be rolled back for all time. Because forgiveness is offered. Compassion and healing is given; and redemption can be claimed through the arrival and the finished work of Jesus Christ.
Christ is born…and He has told us His message of hope: “I am the Way, the Truth and the Life.”
[lem]
12/22/17; revised 12/14/19
Across a Table