This is scene twenty-one from Duccio's Passion Narrative found on the back of the Maesta Altarpiece. It is called The Deposition. The word deposition means, to topple or overthrow a monarch. Jesus is unwanted, thrown down or thrown away. That makes the painting sadder still, doesn't it?
We don't find the account of the deposition in any of the four gospels—only that Pilate allowed Joseph of Arimathea to take away the body of Jesus for burial. This painting has as its source the extra canonical Gospel of Nicodemus: Mary kisses the wounds of Jesus; Nicodemus removes the nails. The apostle John supports Jesus' lifeless body as Joseph of Arimathea carefully lowers it into Mary's arms. The body of Jesus was then placed on a stone where it was quickly prepared for burial. That stone is found today inside the entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem.
Here are some aspects of the painting we might want to notice. The background is gold so we won't be distracted with landscape. The previous thirteen scenes show Jesus surrounded by male enemies, while here he is surrounded by women disciples. Their faces and raised, covered hands, are classic images of profound grief. Notice how Mary reaches out, as if to "catch" her son. Her eyes look into the closed eyes of Jesus. This positioning of Mary and Jesus echoes the Eleusa icon of the Mother of God where she is posed cheek-to-cheek with her Infant Son. There is yearning in her reaching. Mary's right arm and Jesus' left arm are entwined.
Television spots are filled with pictures of grief stricken people these days: the young doctor who breaks down when he walks in the door and can't hold his toddler son who has rushed to welcome him home, the masked and quarantined man who looks out at a loved one through glass, the health care worker who stands in front of the refrigerator truck filling up with corpses. There's nothing to do—just to hold the scenes. Our culture suggests distracting or numbing ourselves—"get on with it," "suck it up." I'd say, just hold it. Holding honors the scene for what it is and enriches and expands the heart.
