AI Cannot Know God; AI Cannot Love Truth
I am a visual learner, so at times not being able to “see” God has caused me to stumble with my prayer life. However, recently Our Lord permitted my frustration while seeking helpful imagery of the Holy Spirit in a way I would never have anticipated. Like St. Paul, although not physically and admittedly much less dramatically, I was “blind” for three days. (Acts 9:9)
Despite the many churches I have visited around the world and across the United States. the Holy Spirit remains the most elusive figure for me to envision. Upfront, I am well aware that my relationship with God should never depend on manmade interpretations. I also trust that Jesus Christ was born into an age lacking the photographic technology of the 21st Century to impress upon us that much in Truth is “unseen” and to wisely judge that which our senses perceive. In other words, we must possess faith, foremost as it was publicly revealed.
Still, imagine my surprise when for several days I failed to notice a beautiful representation of the Descent of the Holy Spirit lying on my bedside stand all along. As some background, June started frantically with obligations and distractions. I cherished that this was the month of the Sacred Heart and also the celebration of the birth of the Catholic Church—Pentecost—but rushed through my morning meditations. I grabbed at my usual fare but lukewarmly.
After slowing down, I at last faced my annual quandary of bringing the Holy Spirit into my contemplation of the Sacred. “Seeing” an artistic interpretation of Scripture, a moment in the life of Jesus Christ, and key events like the Pentecost, helps me focus on that which is most holy. Yet, even a Catholic environment with numerous articles of faith throughout the home could not bring me the solace of the Holy Spirit.
So, this year, I was drawn to more extensively investigate the great art of this salvific event and came across an article in Our Sunday Visitor, (May 17, 2024): “Divine encounter: Explore the beauty of Pentecost through art” with Catholic art historian Elizabeth Lev. To quote: “Through Lev’s expert guidance, we transverse the centuries, witnessing how artists across cultures and epochs have grappled with the ineffable mystery of Pentecost…”
That is what I sought! I dove in while acknowledging that there are likely many other such articles and even books. I was immediately gratified to learn that I was not alone in my frustration about visualizing the Holy Spirit. Among Lev’s “favorites” are the Dome of the Pentecost in Venice, Italy which vividly portrays the “descent” of the Holy Spirit in golden luminosity with images of fire upon each disciple. Yet, she admits it was a personal experience of being there that influenced her preference.
Like Lev, I, too, found the representation from St. Peter’s Basilica’s “the altar of the chair,” to be the most brilliant of her selections in painting, sculpture and architecture. The sheer massive descent of golden “rays” and clouds with Cherubim and the Seraphim brought heaven to mind. A centralized window (with a dove) through which light passes through may symbolize the “the tongues of fire” of the Holy Spirit. (Acts 2:1-3)
However, I was still left with a nagging sense I had not seen “the” image that would most impress me with the actual descent of the Holy Spirit. Other sites showed the same examples as Lev’s and others that failed to bring me into the moment. Admittedly, I was seeking a WOW effect. Like her, I also found the more contemporary depictions sometimes “cartoonish.” The modernity in tone of some I understood to a point. Yet, they seemed out of kilter, as the original Pentecost should model the time period.
One painting that accomplished that which I sought, I discovered through the Internet through key words: Pentecost art-Images. Scrolling I finally noted an example from img.ohmymag.co.uk. “Everything You Need to Know About Pentecost.” February 5, 2017. Overall the expansive work shows dozens of persons in a room with what appears to be a red and blue clothed Mary as a central figure totally enraptured. A faint halo encircles her head. A pensive facial expression signifies humility but also inner serenity. Fire that fills the upper room’s region is descending, but one can see the tongues of fire parting in the midst of the blaze. Those present emanate various responses, some more intent than others. A few appear startled. In the background are two windows through which one can view cloudy skies. I could spend considerable time just gazing into the elements and all the faces in the painting.
Finally, in a vain quest to discover the artist for the aforementioned, I was led to commons.wikimedia.org (Paintings of Pentecost) and found a trove of works. One very similar to the Oh My magazine art was “La Pentecote” by Philippe de Champaigne.
Other paintings caused me to pause and contemplate the Descent of the Holy Spirit, as well, but what all those had in common were the centralized presence of fire or great light; Mary, Mother of God and our Mother; the disciples; and a gathered crowd which, besides being Scripturally accurate, encompassed the many effected even outside the immediate proximity and perhaps over a period of time (See notes The New American Bible, Acts 2:1-41).
Then, after putting down the computer mouse, God “opened” my eyes on the fourth day. As I reached for the June Magnificat Magazine, the cover art momentarily stunned me. Encompassing all the elements (and more) of what I sought came to life through Joachim von Sandrart’s depiction of Pentecost with Pierre-Marie Dumont’s brilliant exploration of this masterpiece. As with the other art experts I had reviewed over the days, he expertly shared a deep understanding of the artist’s intent with respect to what or who is figured and how; the why’s of the elements, lighting and colors; and the overall message given the time period of the artist. Dumont interspersed well placed Scripture and references to the Catechism of the Catholic Church which brought to sight more comprehensive meaning.
However, I was tempted to complain a bit. Why had I not seen this magazine cover sooner, as it would have saved me considerable time and some exasperation navigating among resources. Moreover, this exemplary achievement was not among those I did discover. Yet, now Joachim von Sandrart, considered the greatest painter of the German school after Durer, will not be a name I will forget or his first rate work.
Then it dawned on me—like a bright light after sleep— that had I not been initially “blinded” to the magazine cover, I doubt very much that I would have endeavored to discover all the Pentecost art or appreciated him and them with such fervor, attachment, and understanding.
Thank you sweet, Jesus, for the art “lesson.” More so, my gratitude that You brought the Holy Spirit into full view, He whom I will cherish “seeing” on Pentecost but also year round.