Niccolò dell’Arca’s Lament for the Dead Christ

“God is dead and we have killed him.” Nietzsche is right once a year. The horror of the death of Christ for our sins, marred beyond recognition, and the responsibility we bear for this suffering, should touch us deeply. Although the terror of the death of God gives way to the joy of the Resurrection, the the enduring evidence of the distortion wrought by our sin on the dead Christ continues to move us (as Dostoevsky portrays in The Idiot). One set of sculptures, dell’Arca’s Lamentation, captures this sentiment powerfully, which I experienced, captivated, as an undergrad studying abroad in Italy.

Niccolò dell’Arca (c. 1434-94), which translates to Nicholas of the Arch, received his attributed name for his contributions to the great arch or monument that entombs St. Dominic in Bologna (begun by Nicola Pisano, but taking almost 500 years to complete). He also completed the striking scene we are focusing on, found in another Bologna church, Santa Maria della Vita: Compianto sul Cristo morto (Lamentation over the Dead Christ).The piece includes seven terra cotta figures: the body of Jesus, his mother Mary, the Apostle John, Mary Magdalene, Mary of Clopas, Mary Salome (mother of James and John), and Joseph of Arimathea.

We certainly grow accustomed the realities of our faith, but the death of God should shock us. Dell’Arca captures this expression of shock more than any other artist I have seen, particularly through the two Marys to the right of Christ. They recoil in pain as the wind blows quickly past them, expressing the sweeping away of their hopes. They truly have witnessed the greatest tragedy in history, the unjust death, not simply of an innocent man, but of the Son of God himself. Even if somewhat overwrought, their expressions vividly embody the pain we should experience in Christ’s suffering and death.

The other two Marys clearly convey intense grief, but not utter dismay of the previous two. They mourn, but they do so from a more dignified and prayerful posture, especially the figure of Our Lady, to the right. The other Mary, to the left, clenches her garments in pain.

The two men demonstrate distinct reactions. John shows brokenness and a lack of comprehension. He weeps more calmly, but not with resignation, as his face clearly expresses anguish. He contemplates what this means: is this the end? What will this mean for the Church and for his own mission? As Jesus’ closest friend, and the only Apostle present in the scene, he represents the entire group in their perplexity over Jesus’ death.

The final figure reacting to Jesus, Joseph of Arimethea, stands out for his contemporary garb and his direction toward the viewer (as well as showing the most evidence for the original polychrome decoration). I don’t believe Joseph was a workman, which the hammer and pliers represent, so Niccolò may have been using the figure to make a point. Most of us continue our routines and work, even on Good Friday, and do not stop to gaze on the suffering of Christ and to contemplate his death. Joseph looks at the viewer of this scene and seems to inquire: how about you?

On the other hand, someone had to do the work to take Jesus down from the Cross and remove his nails. This figure, by far, shows the most composure and did the work that needed to be done in a moment of grief and disarray. From that perspective, the final figure may give testimony to how we must continue to pursue our duty even in the midst of tragedy and suffering, including when things do not make sense in the Church and we suffer the temptation to give up on her in her suffering.

What are your reactions to these sculptures?