Under the Egg by Laura Marx Fitzgerald Read Free Book Online

life,’ the painter is alluding to Christ’s future sacrifice and to Communion.”
    â€œSo why is the bread risen but not risen?” I asked.
    â€œIt’s a—well, not exactly a joke—but a play on words. The Last Supper takes place during Passover, the Jewish festival in which they eat unleavened bread—that is, bread made without any yeast to make it rise. And this painting foreshadows Christ’s death, when his life is cut short, but after which he ascends—or rises—into heaven. ‘Risen but not risen.’ Do you see?”
    â€œAnd the well nourished? And the healing angel?”
    â€œThis one’s a bit trickier.” Reverend Cecily thought for a moment. “Christ came to offer love to one and all: the rich and the poor, the high and the low. So in this way, He ‘nourished the well nourished’: his spiritual food fills those who have material wealth but no inner peace. And because He holds dominion over all of heaven and earth, He can comfort even the angels who comfort us.”
    Reverend Cecily crouched down to inspect the faces further. “While this is nominally a traditional Madonna with the infant Christ Child, I think the painting is really foreshadowing the Last Supper and the end of Christ’s life. This isn’t the robust toddler you usually see in paintings like these. This Christ Child looks drawn, almost ill, as if He is already filled with suffering. And Mary looks on with such worry, poor dear.” The rector clucked her tongue.
    â€œAnd see this bird? That’s the dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit. See how he descends upon the Mother and Child? That’s foreshadowing Christ’s baptism, when the Holy Spirit descends from heaven. That’s the moment when Christ begins his mission and starts down the path that leads inevitably to his crucifixion.”
    We all looked closer. You couldn’t escape it—the painting was a downer.
    â€œIt’s a complex painting. Interesting, I think, in the way it imbues a Madonna and Child composition—usually a sweet, peaceful subject—with quite dark undertones.”
    â€œSo is it worth anything?” Bodhi blurted out.
    Reverend Cecily laughed. “That is certainly outside my expertise. But since you’re so keen to find out, I know someone who could give you an appraisal. A parishioner of mine works at one of the auction houses uptown. If you bring him the painting, I’m sure he’ll be able to ID it in a jiffy.” She jotted a name and number down on a slip of paper and handed it to me.
    â€œThanks, Reverend Cecily. I really appreciate this.” I started wrapping up the painting again and settling it back into the Samsonite.
    â€œNot a problem.” She glanced at my pockets bulging with Nutter Butters, then she picked up a flyer from her desk and held it out to me. “You know, our church hosts a food pantry, open Tuesday and Thursday mornings. You’re welcome to come along anytime.”
    â€œOh. Yeah, thanks. Thanks about the painting.” I turned toward the door and left the flyer in her outstretched hand. Jack always said that as long as we had eggs in the henhouse, we didn’t need charity.
    â€œTheo, there is one other thing.”
    â€œYes?”
    Reverend Cecily hesitated a moment. “It’s the ‘healing angel’ in those verses; I keep coming back to it. Another translation might be ‘the angel that heals.’” She walked back over to her desk and opened a large Bible, paging through it until she found what she was looking for. “Here. In the Book of Enoch, we find the archangel Raphael, whose name means ‘God heals.’ This angel Raphael cures Tobiah’s blindness and brings him safely into the light at the end of his journey.”
    â€œOh?” I waited. “Really?”
    Reverend Cecily looked amused. “Why, Theo-Theodora. What would your grandfather