The Earthly Trinity

Here is a charming work by Murillo (1617–1682); it is little known because it belongs to a private collection. The Holy Family is depicted in a room that bears the features both of a domestic interior and of a makeshift carpenter’s workshop. This is because we are not in Nazareth but in Egypt, where the Holy Family took refuge for three or four years. Quite naturally, Murillo imagined that during that time Saint Joseph the Worker had provided for his family by practicing his trade as a carpenter. Thus, at the threshold of the painting, we are welcomed by a cat that sleeps, but his heart waketh. Its presence confirms that we are in Egypt, where the cat was a sacred figure, protector of the household.

As always, Murillo’s work invites us to enter into contemplation as if embarking on a spiritual exercise. Not a combat exercise, in the manner of Saint Ignatius of Loyola, but rather the kind of exercise practiced by Teresa of Ávila, or even more (who cares about the anachronism?) by Thérèse of Lisieux: an exercise that invites us to contemplate, to be moved, to understand, and finally to give thanks in prayer: an exercise to make communion in love visible, desirable, practicable.

Contemplating

The focal point of the painting is Mary’s open hand, at the geometric center of the painting. What does it express? How does the Mother’s gaze upon her Son and her God—how does her entire posture—enter into the dynamic of this hand gesture and give it a sublime, artistic eloquence? Also, what does her right hand signify, resting on a large white cloth she has just embroidered, like a shroud? And here stands Joseph, a righteous man, a young, handsome husband, an attentive father whose eyes express all his affection, but more deeply the mystical question that sets his heart in communion with the Mystery of mysteries: “But who is this adorable son, of whom I am the father?”

Being moved

Yes, who is this charming blond baby who stretches out his little hands toward his Mother? What do his delightful smile and his gaze express, as they bathe his Mother in a soft light woven of love and joy? Who is this disarming Child, innocence itself, behind whom just enough wood beams have been prepared to make a cross?

Understanding

This scene helps us to understand that the Incarnation is not merely God bending down toward humanity; the Incarnation transfigures humanity in what it is, and divinizes it for what it is meant to be. To be a woman, to be a man, to be a child, the family, the sanctifying prose of everyday life, maternal love, paternal love, filial love, education, occupation, vocation, all of human life, and even death—all this can become a place of expression for divine life.

Murillo called the communion in love of Jesus-Mary-Joseph “the earthly trinity.” And he popularized images of this communion as a work of evangelization. Indeed, he believed there was no better news to proclaim everywhere than this: since Jesus Christ—true God and true man—returned to his Father, our Father, and sent us the Holy Spirit, all human communion in love—in the image and likeness of the Holy Family—is already communion in God who is Love. 

Pierre-Marie Dumont

The Holy Family in Joseph’s Workshop, Bartolomé Esteban Murillo (1617–1682), private collection. © Bridgeman Images.