life,â the painter is alluding to Christâs future sacrifice and to Communion.â
âSo why is the bread risen but not risen?â I asked.
âItâs aâwell, not exactly a jokeâbut a play on words. The Last Supper takes place during Passover, the Jewish festival in which they eat unleavened breadâthat is, bread made without any yeast to make it rise. And this painting foreshadows Christâs death, when his life is cut short, but after which he ascendsâor risesâinto heaven. âRisen but not risen.â Do you see?â
âAnd the well nourished? And the healing angel?â
âThis oneâs a bit trickier.â Reverend Cecily thought for a moment. âChrist came to offer love to one and all: the rich and the poor, the high and the low. So in this way, He ânourished the well nourishedâ: 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.â
Reverend Cecily crouched down to inspect the faces further. âWhile 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 Christâs life. This isnât 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.â The rector clucked her tongue.
âAnd see this bird? Thatâs the dove, the symbol of the Holy Spirit. See how he descends upon the Mother and Child? Thatâs foreshadowing Christâs baptism, when the Holy Spirit descends from heaven. Thatâs the moment when Christ begins his mission and starts down the path that leads inevitably to his crucifixion.â
We all looked closer. You couldnât escape itâthe painting was a downer.
âItâs a complex painting. Interesting, I think, in the way it imbues a Madonna and Child compositionâusually a sweet, peaceful subjectâwith quite dark undertones.â
âSo is it worth anything?â Bodhi blurted out.
Reverend Cecily laughed. âThat is certainly outside my expertise. But since youâre 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, Iâm sure heâll be able to ID it in a jiffy.â She jotted a name and number down on a slip of paper and handed it to me.
âThanks, Reverend Cecily. I really appreciate this.â I started wrapping up the painting again and settling it back into the Samsonite.
âNot a problem.â She glanced at my pockets bulging with Nutter Butters, then she picked up a flyer from her desk and held it out to me. âYou know, our church hosts a food pantry, open Tuesday and Thursday mornings. Youâre welcome to come along anytime.â
âOh. Yeah, thanks. Thanks about the painting.â 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 didnât need charity.
âTheo, there is one other thing.â
âYes?â
Reverend Cecily hesitated a moment. âItâs the âhealing angelâ in those verses; I keep coming back to it. Another translation might be âthe angel that heals.ââ She walked back over to her desk and opened a large Bible, paging through it until she found what she was looking for. âHere. In the Book of Enoch, we find the archangel Raphael, whose name means âGod heals.â This angel Raphael cures Tobiahâs blindness and brings him safely into the light at the end of his journey.â
âOh?â I waited. âReally?â
Reverend Cecily looked amused. âWhy, Theo-Theodora. What would your grandfather