I'm thinking on this day before Christmas about Giotto's depiction of the reunion of Joachim and Anne, Mary's parents, at the Golden Gate outside Jerusalem. One of the sublime panels of the Arena (aka Scrovegni) Chapel in Padua, it marks the moment of Mary's Immaculate Conception, and by extension the origin of Christ's Incarnation. The scene includes a group of brightly dressed women who gaze happily on the moment, and a single black-clad female figure who looks away. Who is she? Perhaps an effigy of the Virgin herself, in knowledge of the fate that awaits her son Yeshua, or a harbinger figure fulfilling the same role, connecting the dots from this loving scene to the story's inevitable conclusion? I encountered this same foreshadowing technique today while listening to an old recording of the carol "What Child is This?" that included a lyric not infrequently erased from modern renditions. The song depicts the scene inside the stable, where the newborn baby sleeps in his mother's lap while shepherds look on and angels sing anthems for the redemption of the world. Amid this hymn of celebration, as written by William Chatterton Dix, the second part of the middle verse inserts a stark reminder: Nails, spear shall pierce Him through / The cross be borne for me, for you. / Hail, hail the Word made flesh, / The Babe, the Son of Mary. This is one of the profound wonders of the Christian story, the way the joy of Christmas portends the Cross, while in that suffering lies the promise of everlasting light. Such is the essence of love, and the tension at the heart of Giotto's kiss.
