Templar Edification

 The second in our series of biblical woodcuts by Gustave Doré takes as its subject Mark 15:21— They compelled a passer-by, who was coming in from the country, to carry his cross; it  was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. Mark’s is the shortest and likely the oldest of the four canonical Christian Gospels, one that starts in "media res" [in the middle of things] and leaps breathlessly from each event in Jesus’ life to the next. The author’s conjunction of choice is “and immediately!” Were one so inclined, one could memorize Mark’s Gospel without overmuch effort and preach it on streetcorners. Such was probably Mark’s aim. Whereas John’s Gospel makes the point that Christ carried His own Cross, Mark clearly states that the Romans compelled an innocent passer-by, Simon of Cyrene, to carry the Cross for Him. This verse has the hallmarks of eyewitness testimony, pointing out Simon’s sons Alexander and Rufus as characters who presumably would’ve been familiar to ...

The first in our series of woodcuts, produced for Le Grande Bible de Tours by Gustave Doré, illustrates John 19:15— They cried out, “Away with him! Away with him! Crucify him!” Pilate asked them, “Shall I crucify your King?” The chief priests answered, “We have no king but Caesar.” Christ stands tall and straight, with the willowy build so characteristic of Western artistic depictions of spiritual people, clearly denoted by His halo. The notion that gods, heroes, and occasionally kings emit a divine light about their heads dates back at least to ancient Sumer, and is found throughout Greek and Persian literature. Egyptian art would typically place the pharaoh’s head within the sun disk, identifying the ruler with Ra. When Caesar Augustus conquered Egypt for his personal possession, his image took on the pharaonic halo. Christian art thus could be construed as presenting Jesus as the true and rival Emperor, whose Kingdom is not of this world. Equally striking in the woodcut is the clear...

The Bible is a vulgar thing—from the Latin vulgus, meaning “common people.” When St Jerome translated the Christian Scriptures into Latin at the end of the fourth century, he did so because few in the West still spoke Greek. Latin was the common tongue of the common people; thus, Jerome’s Bible came to be known as the Vulgate, regular language for regular folks. The dialect of Greek from which Jerome had worked was koine, which also means “common.” Koine was the language of the Hellenistic world, of all the varied cultures and kingdoms conquered by Alexander the Great. The Gospels were written down in koine, despite Jesus teaching in Aramaic, so that everyone could hear and understand. And what was Aramaic? Why, it was the common Semitic tongue spoken by the Judeans following their return from the Babylonian Exile. We read in the Book of Ezra that most exiled Israelites could no longer understand Hebrew, the language of the Law, and so when the Law was read aloud, learned Levites had t...

The Year of Our Lord 1866 witnessed the publication of a remarkable two-volume French-language folio edition of the Holy Scriptures, translated from the Vulgate, as La Grande Bible de Tours. And for this worthy and weighty tome, the French artist Paul Gustave Louis Christophe Doré produced 241 woodcuts illustrating the sacred texts. They are gorgeous and immensely popular works of art, dripping with drama and heavy with doom. Published simultaneously in the UK, Doré’s illustrations of the Tours Bible both influenced and were influenced by the Victorian Age (1837-1901). His Old Testament scenes focus on massacres and murderers; his New Testament on sentiment and sapience. He seems to have enjoyed high drama all around. We all know how the lurid bits of the Bible keep the rest of it arresting. Over the course of the following year, and by special request, we will take a monthly look at just under a dozen of these woodcuts corresponding to the Passion of the Christ; paying close attention...