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St. Joseph's Chapel Tympanum, College of the Holy Cross |
I will go to the altar of God,
to God who gives joy to my youth.
During this school year, I had the privilege to visit a friend who is a visiting art professor at the College of the Holy Cross. After he generously treated me to lunch on campus, we walked over to St. Joseph's Chapel on a beautiful afternoon.
In looking up at the tympanum (i.e. the triangular area often decorated with sculptures at the top of a chapel building), he helped me focus on the special artistry that features a risen and ascended Jesus (most often it's either a scene from the nativity or the crucifixion).
Captivated by this depiction of the victorious King Jesus, I'm coming back to it again as we get ready to celebrate Pentecost this weekend. We are invited to worship this joyful and generous King in light of the words in Latin that provide the base for the tympanum:
Captivated by this depiction of the victorious King Jesus, I'm coming back to it again as we get ready to celebrate Pentecost this weekend. We are invited to worship this joyful and generous King in light of the words in Latin that provide the base for the tympanum:
Et introibo ad altare Dei, ad Deum
qui laetificat iuventutem meam.
I will go to the altar of God, to God
who gives joy to my youth.
Joy doesn’t rise from comfort
but from conviction,
not from absence of sorrow
but from trust that God’s future
is breaking into present.
My time in St. Joseph's Chapel continues to be a space the Spirit of God has used to welcome my awe and worship on College Hill, one of the "seven hills" of Worcester, the City on Seven Hills.
The view of the tympanum's visuals and verbiage, along with the crescendo of ancient and fresh hymns being orchestrated and sung within, have continued to resonate deeply with me, bringing to life the verses I have returned to the most during the past year:
I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD ...
+ Psalm 121:1-2
Along with Psalm 121, these words from a priest below also continue to challenge me to pray for joy that is a defiant celebration of conviction and courage in the face of suffering, to "turn my eyes toward heaven."
Unless we are anchored in something
beyond the here and now,
chances are we will drown
in the present moment.
The Gospels describe Jesus
praying in different ways,
but sometimes they simply say,
"He turned His eyes toward heaven!"
The same expression is used
of other great faith figures
(ex. see Stephen in Acts 7:55)
and it's used of them
precisely at those times
when the forces of madness
are threatening to kill them.
When the world around them
is going mad,
they "turn their eyes toward heaven."
Prayer is a question of
unity and surrender —
of uniting one's will with
someone else and
surrendering one's will to that other.
Prayer is the desire
to be in union with someone,
especially in union with
that other's will ...
surrender of one's will to
a higher power, to God.
Each of us needs to find
our own way of doing this
if we are to cope with the forces
that threaten to drown us ...
We will always be adrift,
until we, like Jesus, regularly
"turn our eyes toward heaven."
+ Fr. Ronald Rolheiser,
"Prayer: Our Deepest Longing,"
pgs. 41-42
If you are feeling bombarded by the madness in the darkness, I hope the tympanum and these words above help turn your eyes toward heaven, and that in looking up, you discover King Jesus looking at you with joy love, courage, compassion, and strength. And perhaps, like I sense Jesus has been inviting me to do, you will find a place where you can do what the Latin phrase says underneath St. Joseph's Chapel's tympanum:
I will go to the altar of God,
to God who gives joy to my youth.
With anticipation and joy,
Rev. Mike "Sully" Sullivan
