The Presentation in the Temple 

The Presentation in the Temple (1460–1475), 
Master of the Life of the Virgin.

On February 2 we celebrate the feast of the Presentation, an event recounted in Luke 2:22-40. Mary and Joseph, according to the Law of Moses, present the baby Jesus in the temple in Jerusalem to Simeon, who recognizes Jesus as the Messiah. His exclamation Now, Master, you may let your servant go in peace, known as the Nunc dimittis, serves as the Gospel canticle for the Church’s night prayer (also called compline). Simeon also predicts the sorrow of Mary in her conformity to her Son in his Passion: Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that is contradicted (and you yourself a sword will pierce), so that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed (Lk 2:34-35).

This story is likely familiar to you. And yet, when such events are depicted in art, we might perhaps feel they are made too familiar. Artists often portray biblical stories as happening in their own time and place rather than in proper historical context, such as in this rendition from 15^th-century Cologne. Painted by an unknown artist (referred to as the Master of the Life of the Virgin), this work styles Simeon very much like a Catholic priest, who receives the Child Jesus in front of what is essentially a Eucharistic high altar. What is the artist trying to express about this event by using his own contemporary idiom, and how can it be fruitful for us?

Visual literacy

We might today lament a lack of biblical literacy among Catholics, or maybe even a lack of formation in the faith generally speaking. Traditionally, such formation included visual literacy. One reason the artist would have chosen a modern setting is so that it could be immediately recognized and applied to the life of a 15^th-century viewer. There are many religious commonplaces; for example, the priest and the altar just mentioned would have been easily recognizable (despite some token Hebrew on the front of the altar). But the painting also speaks the Church’s artistic language as it had been built up over the centuries: the majestic blue robes of Mary (which indicate her spiritual status rather than material wealth), the portrayal of Joseph as a much older man with his eyes downcast (indicating that he is not the father of this child), and the anachronistic onlookers, well-dressed men and women surrounding the scene (perhaps patrons of the artwork or of the church, but certainly evocative of the real people of 15^th-century Cologne). 

Unlike in an attempt at historical recreation and photorealism, where we might be distracted by such questions as, “Did Jesus really look like that?” or, “Is that an accurate portrayal of the biblical temple?,” here we are instead able to recognize the scene immediately and imagine ourselves as a spectator to the events. This work, after all, was meant to hang in a church and foster contemplative devotion to the Virgin.

Biblical typology

But there is more to this visual literacy than mere familiarity. On the high altar three biblical scenes are portrayed, explaining the Presentation through its biblical types, and predicting the future trial of Mary that Simeon warns of. A biblical “type” appears when one story images or foreshadows another; in Christian terms, it is the New Testament hidden in the Old, and the Old Testament revealed in the New. The unveiling of the meaning of the Presentation through its Old Testament types is precisely what is going on in this painting.

From left to right on the altar we see Cain slaying his brother Abel, Abraham about to sacrifice his son Isaac, and Noah lying drunk under a grapevine. The first two are fairly straightforward types of Christ’s Passion: as Abel is put to death by his brother, and his righteous blood cries out to God (see Gn 4:10), so also Christ. As Isaac, Abraham’s only son, carried the wood for his own sacrifice and was nearly offered to God, so will Christ suffer what Isaac was spared. Jesus, God’s only-begotten Son, will carry his own cross to the top of a hill, and offer his life as a sacrifice.     

What of the third image—that of Noah asleep? The story of the drunkenness of Noah (Gn 9:20-27) was also seen as a type of Christ’s Passion. In the City of God, Augustine writes: “Noah’s planting of the vineyard, his getting drunk from its fruit, his nakedness while sleeping, and all the other events recorded here are heavy with prophetic meanings and screened by prophetic veils.” To draw out the parallels: Noah plants a vineyard, as Christ the Church. Christ falls asleep drinking the cup (of his Passion) and is stripped naked, like Noah. And like Noah (whose son Ham uncovers him), Christ suffers the indignity of the unfaithful who deride him in his Passion. You can see how much biblical and visual literacy was required to catch the meaning in one small background detail! To go even smaller, there is a fox in the background of Noah’s scene, eating the grapes of his vineyard (i.e. the Church). This is the fox of Song of Songs 2:15 (Catch the foxes, the little foxes that damage the vineyards; for our vineyards are in bloom), a verse usually applied to heretics who threatened the Church.

In three brief scenes, then, our artist expresses the mystery of the Presentation. This Child was born to be a sacrifice, betrayed by one very closes to him. His innocent blood—especially evoked here, because he is an infant—will be offered in atonement to the Father. This cup that both Christ and Mary drink will then be offered to us all in the Eucharistic sacrifice. 

Elizabeth Klein
Assistant professor of theology at the Augustine Institute in Denver.

The Presentation in the Temple (1460–1475), Master of the Life of the Virgin, National Gallery, London. © National Gallery Global Limited / akg-images.