Pieta: The Mary of Michelangelo
She’s a fulcrum of that moment when piety loses heart and tilts to unbelief. Her left hand falls open to ask, Why? Like Job she accepts God’s power, but with a dead son in her arms, her understanding falters. She bows her head, surrendering to the crushing mystery. An elegant vessel of grief, she’s larger than the vanquished form she holds. The ample folds of her robe can’t swaddle him into warmth, nor her full breasts nurse him back to health. The artist has placed her where we all go in despair— inside a memory. There, too young for this grown son, she’s an...
Read More