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 denouement? I encountered this same foreshadowing today while listening to an old recording of the carol "What Child is This?" that included a lyric often excised from modern renditions. The song depicts the scene inside the stable, where the newborn baby sleeps in his mother's lap while shepherds bear witness and angels sing anthems for the redemption of the world. Amid this hymn of celebration, as written in 1865 by William Chatterton Dix, the second part of the middle verse inserts the 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 the profoundest wonder of the Christian story, that the joy of Christmas portends the Cross, and that in Christ's suffering lies the promise of everlasting light. Such is the mystery of love, and the tender mercy at the heart of Giotto's kiss.
