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Ethics Fine Arts The Holy Land

Renoir and the Jews.

As a member of the Institute of Jewish Studies (IJS) at the University of Antwerp, I was recently invited to a lecture by Richard Yerachmiel Cohen, Emeritus Professor of Jewish History and Contemporary Jewry at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, who specializes in the history of French Jewry, the Holocaust, and art history. The subject he chose to tackle was Jewish pre- and post war patronage of visual art and its impact on the international art market. Being both art loving and fascinated with the Jewish identity, I decided to attend.

Wandering the labyrinth of academic halls, I recognized some classrooms where I had been breaking my head over exam questions, my ears stuffed with plugs to block out any white noise – I couldn’t and still can’t bear any sound when I need to concentrate. Memories of blackouts, eurekas, adrenaline rushes, disappointments, exhilaration, and relief flooded my mind. The storm of emotions I felt in this building was more overwhelming than the finale of a Rachmaninov concerto.

The room I was searching couldn’t be missed – its front door was guarded by two armed policemen and security personnel who kindly but firmly asked I hand over my coat and handbag. Bearing in mind the Islamist terror attack that killed two Israeli tourists visiting the Jewish Museum in Brussels in 2014, no risk could be taken in the presence of a predominantly Jewish audience, among which the Israeli ambassador.

Anti-Semitism, or anti-Zionism, as it is today labelled by anti-Semites who want to cover up their true conviction, is still a harsh reality in this post-Holocaust era. In the past decades, the hatred of Jews and their homeland has increased significantly in Europe and beyond – a regrettable but unsurprising trend that once again triggers Jewish exodi to other continents.

Before the professor started the lecture, he was introduced with many (well-deserved) superlatives by Vivian Liska, director of the IJS. Sitting hunched over on his chair, he reminded me of Noam Chomsky – you know, this Jewish-American, anti-Zionist, Pol Pot-apologist, self-described anarcho-syndicalist professor who believes Marx is God and America is the devil – frail, vulnerable, and on the verge of collapsing faster than Joe Biden on the stairs of Air Force One.

Great was my surprise when Cohen stood up with a straight back and addressed the attendees with the imposing, captivating voice of a Roman orator, filling no less than two hours with his speech without instigating a single moment of boredom in me, nor the rest of the attendees. Everyone hung on his eloquent lips.

It was a brilliant exposé of how Jewish intelligentsia worldwide influenced the international art market by sponsoring artists, organising exhibitions, and founding numerous art galleries and museums. It is remarkable that no other minority in the world is at the source of that many museums.

At the end of the 19th century, many wealthy Jewish families in France acquired and sold paintings of great masters. One of those families was the Parisian Cahen d’Anvers family, who commissioned portraits of their daughters from Auguste Renoir, an Impressionist who struggled to make a living as a painter. This must have been a great source of frustration for him, as it was to other underappreciated geniuses like Paul Gauguin, Henry de Toulouse-Lautrec, and Claude Monet, the man considered the founder of Impressionism.

Renoir’s talent and avant-gardist artistry were admirable. What was less so, was his anti-Semitism, a sentiment shared by many of his compatriots, that amplified when Napoleon III lost the war against the Prussians in 1870. The French, humiliated by their defeat, looked for a culprit. For those who know history and how easily it repeats itself, it comes as no surprise that the Jews – rich, untrustworthy, unpatriotic, and traitorous as people have always believed them to be – were once again blamed for a collective misfortune.

This time, the blame fell on Captain Alfred Dreyfus, an artillery officer of Jewish ancestry accused of espionage for the Germans, in what might have been the most shameful judicial affair in the history of France (which was magnificently filmed by Roman Polanski). Dreyfus was publicly degraded before a crowd screaming:

“Death to the Judas! Death to the Jew!”

After having his insignia torn from his uniform and his sword seized and broken, he was deported to solitary confinement on Devil’s Island, a penal colony off the coast of French Guiana in South America.

The Dreyfus affair divided France like the Trump presidency divided America. Everyone was either for or against Dreyfus, and the expression of antagonist opinions drove spouses, families, neighbours, and friends apart. A cartoon image made by the anti-Dreyfusard caricaturist Caran d’Ache, entitled ‘Un diner en famille’, published one month after Emile Zola’s galvanizing letter ‘J’accuse’, shows how a family dinner party turned into a massacre while discussing the Dreyfus affair.

Even though Renoir, along with millions of other Frenchmen, was a staunch defender of the French court that falsely convicted Dreyfus, the veracity of his anti-Semitism is sometimes disputed. A friend of mine argued that, would Renoir have been a true anti-Semite, his brush would have depicted Jewish people in a stereotypical way, with a long, crooked nose, or other stereotypical Jewish features. This seems like a weak argument – if Renoir would’ve done so, he would’ve quickly gained the reputation of being anti-Semitic and stop receiving the commissions he so desperately needed to survive.

Other arguments that could plea in his favour are that he often exhibited with the Bernheims, who were the foremost Jewish dealers. He was also in good terms with his Jewish sister-in-law, Blanche Renoir, and he attended the funeral of the Jewish painter Camille Pissarro, something Degas refused to do. The anti-Semitism of the latter is undeniable: when a model in his atelier dared suggesting Dreyfus might be innocent, he furiously screamed:

“You are Jewish! You are Jewish!”

and told her to leave immediately. Until the Dreyfus affair, Degas had been a great ami de la maison of the Halévy family, attending their shabbat dinners and painting their portraits.

Renoir wasn’t a ‘ferocious anti-Semite’, as Pissarro described Degas. However, when I read certain statements in the letters he wrote to friends, I’m inclined to believe he wasn’t exactly a Judeophile either. His fellow Impressionists Pissarro, Monet, and Signac, who were all pro-Dreyfus certainly did not appreciate his views, that were hard to reconcile with (but maybe easily explained by) his dependency on the financial support of Jewish art collectors.

Renoir had been introduced to those collectors by a certain Charles Ephrussi, a respected art historian, main contributor to the Gazette des Beaux Arts, an important socialite with many useful connections in Jewish and noble Parisian salons, and … a Jew. In one of his columns entitled ‘Jews in Paris’, a British columnist wrote the following about him:

“Through the loophole of art, one of these energetic Israelites penetrated the salon of an ex-imperial highness. He made room for his uncles and aunts and cousins, who gradually introduced their friends and their friends’ friends, until at last the Wednesday receptions of the amiable hostess… have come to be in large degree receptions of the descendants of the tribes.”

Thanks to Ephrussi, Renoir gained popularity as a portraitist and became able to afford painting non-commissioned works. In what can perhaps be perceived as a token of gratitude for his connections, Renoir depicted Ephrussi in one of his most ambitious works, ‘Luncheon of the Boating Party’.

Ephrussi never got married in his lifetime, but he did have an affair with Louise, the wife of Louis Cahen d’Anvers. He convinced to commission portraits of her eldest daughter Irène from Renoir.

When art critic Joris-Karl Huysmans saw this painting at the Salon, he was very enthusiastic:

“The portraits that [Renoir] exhibits in the present Salon are charming, particularly one of a little girl in profile, which is painted with a flourish of color that has only ever been approached by the old masters of the English school. Curiously passionate about the reflection of the sun on the velvety skin, the play of the rays over the hair and the fabric, M. Renoir bathed his figure in true light and one sees the adorable nuances, the iridescence that blooms on the canvas! These works figure, absolutely, among the most sumptuous at the Salon.”

Louise, however, wasn’t very pleased with the portrait, nor with the other double portrait of her other daughters Renoir made and banished them all to a servant’s room. Little did she know that it would today be considered one one of Renoir’s greatest masterpieces and be of unfathomable value. Above that, she delayed Renoir’s remuneration for over a year. The latter was furious:

“As for the 1500 francs from the Cahens, I must tell you that I find it hard to swallow. The family is so stingy; I am washing my hands of the Jews.”

Renoir also wrote in an anti-Semitic manner about Ephrussi, which obviously cooled their friendship. Maybe his ambivalent attitude towards the Jews was rooted in the fact he was sometimes underpaid, or not paid at all, by Jewish commissioners who disliked the final result of his work, like the Cahen d’Anvers family. Maybe his status anxiety translated itself into a latent jealousy for the wealth of the Jews, and the Dreyfus affair allowed it to come to the surface.

The journey of Irène’s portrait is, by the way, remarkable. In 1883, it appeared in the first impressionist exhibition in 1883. In 1891, Irene married Count Moïse de Camondo, who purchased to portrait as an addition to his vast collection. The entire collection can be admired today at the Musée Nissim de Camondo in Paris -.

More than half a century later, the Nazis gained power and stole thousands of paintings owned by Jews. The portrait was hidden with thousands of other art works in the Chateau de Chambord. The painting was now in possession of the creator of the Gestapo: Herman Göring!

After the war, the painting resurfaced in a Parisian exhibition of paintings stolen by Nazis. It was then obtained by Emil Georg Bührle, a Swiss industrialist, art collector of German origin and CEO of the armaments company Oerlikon, supplier of the German military. If you want to see the portrait today, you should visit the Bührle Collection in Zürich.

Irene had two children: Nissim and Béatrice. Nissim died as a fighter pilot during World War I, and Beatrice and her children were murdered in Auschwitz. Irene however, survived the Holocaust and lived until the age of 91.

A sad story behind a magnificent painting, made by a man who perhaps harbored the same hateful feelings that catalyzed one of the greatest genocides in history. My research left me full of doubts: Did Renoir make overtly anti-Semitic remarks? Certainly. Can he be labelled an anti-Semite for making these remarks because he wasn’t treated fairly by his Jewish patrons? Perhaps not. However, he was definitely on the wrong side of the Dreyfus affair.

Categories
Ethics Religion The Holy Land

Murdered Messiah.

On the 15th of November 2017, the Saudi minister of culture purchased a painting for the impressive sum of 475.4 million dollars at Christy’s auction gallery, New York, rendering it the most expensive chef d’oeuvre sold in the history of art. Its creator was the 15th century homo universalis Leonardo di ser Piero da Vinci, who entitled it ‘Salvator Mundi’. The masterpiece indeed represents the Saviour of the World, dressed in an anachronistic blue Renaissance dress, holding a crystal orb in his left hand and observerving the spectator with a hypnotic gaze that is so emblematic of Da Vinci’s portraits.

The protagonist of the painting, often referred to as the male Mona Lisa, is of course Jesus Christ, arguably the most famous human of all times, and hence not in need of an introduction. Nearly every inhabitant of every continent on this planet has heard about the Nazarene who stirred up the Promised Land with his groundbreaking ideas that were met with amazement by some and disbelief by others, and who was crucified for proclaiming a message that was apparently too inconvenient for the commanders of his execution.

Not only is this Jewish man the reason that today, 2.4 billion people call themselves Christian, whether they identify as Roman-Catholic, Lutheran, Orthodox, Anglican, Pentecostal, Evangelical, Presbyterian, or Apostolic, his birthday was also accepted as the universal time standard by the entire world, including Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Muslims, and atheists.

Everyone is familiar with the story of Jesus’ life, but we all have different answers to the question who he really was. Innumerable books have been written by people – academics, mystics, theologists, popes, atheists, jews, gentiles – who searched for answers to this question.

Baruch Spinoza, a Dutch philosopher from Jewish descent who was rejected by his community and mocked by the rabbis of his days, called Jesus ‘the Greatest Philospher’. Another great thinker, Carl Jung, called him ‘the Ultimate Hero’. Friedrich Nietzsche, often portrayed as an anti-Christian provocateur, thought Christ was the embodiment of the lack of resentment, possessing the innermost light, and being utterly powerful, for only a powerful person can eradicate sin and guilt with self-sacrifice.

What is certain, is that Jesus was, and still remains, a polarizing figure. He was immensely admired by thousands of his followers, but also utterly despised by those who felt threatened by him. He had friends who would kill for him, but also enemies who wanted to kill him. Pivotal figures in history tended to trigger radically opposed emotions: they were simultaneously adored and detested. Christianity is the largest, but sadly, also the most mocked religion in the world.

Equally indisputable is Jesus’ Jewish identity. His mother Mary was a Jew, as were all his disciples and followers during his life, and all the people who spread his message in the first two centuries after his death. Some of those first Christian Jews, who still practiced Judaism but believed Jesus was their Saviour, were delivered to the Romans by other Jews, and brutally executed for their conviction. These Christian Jews were true martyrs: innocent people who were murdered for refusing to deny their faith, without having murdered others.

Antisemites who argue that Jews killed Christ, should be reminded of the fact that the first Christians were Jewish. They risked their lives spreading his message, and without their deep faith and bravery, Christianity would not exist today. Today, Jews who believe Jesus still exist – there are about one million of them and their number is growing. They call themselves Jews for Jesus in America, and One for Israel in Israel. Their founders, Moishe Rosen and Eitan Bar, argue Jesus is the fullfillment of all messianic prophecies and criteria in the Torah.

Apart from these Messianic Jews, Jesus is unknown and mostly rejected by his own people. To them, he is an outcast. Billions of others see him as the greatest spiritual leader to have walked the face of the Earth, for whom museums have been filled with thousands of magnificent paintings and sculptures, about whom hundreds of movies have been made, for whom majestic cathedrals, churches, monasteries, hospitals, and universities have been built all over the world throughout millenia.

Jesus’ disciples and others called him ‘rabbi’ or ‘rabbuni’, meaning ‘our teacher’. Little did they know the words and deeds of their teacher would radically change the course of history. And yet some historians say Jesus wasn’t more than – a rabbi. Others claim he was one of the many self-proclaimed prophets of the time, allegedly performing miracles. Jesus did prophesize events like the destruction of the Second Temple and even his own death and resurrection. Foretelling the future, however, was certainly not the essence of his existence, nor were the many miracles he performed. Some theologians bagatellize these miracles, arguing many others accomplished similar healings and other supernatural acts before him.

No other biblical story, however, mentions a prophet who brought the deceased back to life and who even conquered his own death. These miracles are absolutely singular and make Jesus unique. The Pentateuchal prophets have split seas, cured people from leprosy, extracted water from rocks, and struck entire armies blind, but none of them defeated the grave. Another distinctive aspect of Jesus is that he performed miracles not by invoking the name of God, but through his own authority.

Perhaps Jesus was a skilled orator with political ambitions, who had to be removed because he became a threat to the establishment. This, however, would imply he desired status and power – intentions he never showed or expressed. Those hungry for power surround themselves with powerful friends, while Jesus frequented individuals who were deemed poor or sinful, like fishermen, tax collectors, and adulterous women. Jesus also did not indulge in earthly riches; he often slept outside, under the naked sky. He did not assemble an army to wage war, and he never suggested conspiring against the Roman authority.

“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.” – Mark 12:7

That sentence right there, is the separation of Church and state, fifteen centuries before the birth of John Locke. Perhaps Jesus’ purpose did not lie in conquering lands, but in minds. Was his intention to create a new religion? He certainly did criticize the religious authorities, calling out the hypocrisy of the scribes and Pharisees:

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the Kingdom of Hevane in people’s faces. You yourselves do not enter, not will you let those enter who are trying to.” – Matthew 23:13

However, another of his statements clarifies he did not repudiate the Torah:

“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law of the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. Until heaven and earth pass away, not a yud, not a dot, will pass from the Law untill all is accomplished.” – Matthew 5:17-18

By underlining the importance of even the smallest strokes of the Hebrew alphabet, Jesus made clear his intention was not to rebel against the Mosaic law. The Hebrew letter ‘yud’, resembling the Latin letter ‘i,’ indeed looks like a tiny stroke, floating above the other letters, as if it conveyed a transcendental symbolism. The most fundamental Jewish concepts start with a yud: Yehudim (Jews), the Holy Land (Yisrael), the Holy City (Yerushalaim), and obviously, the most important word, uttered by God Himself to Moses, through a burning bush: Yahweh, His sacred name meaning ‘I am that I am’.

Given this pattern, it would be plausible that the name of the Saviour the Yehudim were waiting for, would also begin with this important letter. Which is the case: Jesus is the Latinization of the Hebrew name Yeshua.

A closer look at the etymology of Yeshua reveals that it means ‘Yah (God) is Salvation’. The messianic character of Yeshua’s name raises the inevitable question: was he the long-awaited Messiah? Was his the anointed one, highly anticipated by his people, oppressed under Roman rule?

When reading the Bible, I was surprised to find out that even the name of the prophet who predicted specific details about the coming of the Messiah, begins with a yud: Yesayah. He said:

”Behold, a young maiden shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” – Yesayah 7:14

Seven hundred years later, his prophecy seemed fulfilled: a young woman named Moriah gave birth to a boy she called Yeshua Immanuel. (Moriah, according to the New Testimony, was a virgin. Jewish theologues find this theologically disputable, as the Hebrew word עַלמָה (almah) means young maiden, not virgin. However, one must keep in mind young maidens, meaning girls who had a marriable age, were supposed to be chaste.
The Annunction story, in which the archangel Gabriel announces to Mary that she will bear the Son of God, confirms this miracle:

“Mary said to the angel: How can this be, since I am a virgin? The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy, he will be called the son of God.”

Jesus never ostentatiously proclaimed to be the Messiah, but identified as such indirectly, in front of a limited number of people. In a Nazarean synagogue, he read out loud the following verses out of the scroll of prophet Yesaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering the sight of the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour”. And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. And he began to say to them: “Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” – Luke 4:18-21.

Being born out of a virgin mother is another thing of Jesus’ uniqueness. Whether he was a mortal, a divinely inspired man, the son of God, or God Himself can be endlessly debated, but why he was among us could not be expressed more clearly than the verses above do. They contain the essence of Jesus’ mission for humanity: to help and heal people, which is exactly what his actions reflected, but more importantly, to convey a message of good news.

God is the alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end. The story of humanity begins and ends with God, who is Good. In the beginning, something good happened: God the Creator gave us life. In the end, something good will happen, too: God the Saviour who will save us. That is the message of the ‘gospel’, the old English translation of the the Greek εὐαγγέλιον, meaning ‘good news’!

This good news was received with great enthusiasm. Thousands of his contemporaries, Jews and non-Jews alike, travelled lenghty distances in perilous circumstances to come listen to the public speeches of the man they believed to be the Messiah. His charismatic personality and the revolutionary character of his message made him known far beyond the borders of Israel.

However, not all members of his community embraced this message. Many called him a false prophet and ascribed Jesus’ supernatural powers to the Devil.

“But when the Pharisees heard it, they said, “it is only by Beelzebul, the prince of demons, that this man casts out demons.” – Matthew 12:24

Incensed by his actions and ideas, they even attempted stoning him on several occasions. Paricularly infuriating was Jesus’ concept of God. He described a God who was forgiving rather than vindictive, a God who was a caring father (he referred to God as his אבא, abba, which means father) endlessly compassionate towards our suffering, rather than an unrelenting judge punishing us for every breach of His law (Jesus himself broke the sabbath several times!), a God who loved all humans equally without exception, including goyim. God was no longer an entity on which humans could bestow their fallacies and shortcomings, a jealous God who demanded adoration, obedience, and bloody sacrifices, but a Being whose Love for His creation was so infinite, it could hardly be grasped by the limited human brain.

He claimed that in the world to come, the first shall be the last, and the last the first. Here on Earth, he taught, the words coming out of our mouths are far more important than the foods we put in it. He called out the hypocrisy of those who rigorously applied the religious rules while being deceitful and dishonest towards others. Praying to God in public for everyone to see, is not piety but vanity – instead, he suggested, lock yourself up in a room and establish a private relationship with your Creator. That relationship is more important than any other relationship you have, even the one with your family. Don’t judge too soon, for you will be judged with the measures you use so judge others. Don’t lie, it is the truth that will set you free. And before throwing accusations or stones at someone, you better make sure you are free of sin.

“Hypocrite! First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” – Matthew 7:5

His most mind-boggling message, however, was related to love:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” – Matthew 5:43-44

It is easy to love your own family, your neighbours, and your friends, but try loving your enemy! The latter suggestion inspired great future leaders like Martin Luther King, who said:

“Love has within it a redemptive power, that eventually transforms individuals (…) Keep loving people, even though they are mistreating you. By the power of your love, they will breakdown under the load. Love builds up and is creative. Hate tears down and is destructive. That is why Jesus said: love your enemies.”

This concept was difficult to accept for a people who were violently oppressed by the Romans and awaited the coming of a Messiah who would revolt against them and relieve them from this oppression. In their minds, the Messiah would be a mighty military leader, saving the Jews from their enemies, not a man who told them to pray for them!

The Messiah they expected was a political Messiah who would fight, be victorious, and rule over an earthly Jewish kingdom, not a spiritual Saviour who would tell them the Kingdom of God is within, and they should pray for those who persecute you. Which is exactly what he did during his agony on the cross:

“Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.” – Luke 23:34

It is noteworthy that despite being hailed as the King of the Jews by his followers, Jesus never emphasized his Jewish identity, nor did he advocate for the conversion of non-Jews to Judaism. He offered his help and healing to all who sought it, regardless of their background. Even Gentiles were not excluded, much to the chagrin of the Pharisees who regarded them as inferior and impure. The word ‘pharisee’ comes from the Hebrew ‘Perushim’, the separated ones – those who avoid contact with goyim at all costs, making them the embodiment of the classical psychological us – versus – them theory.

It was those Pharisaic ecclesiastics who made a deal with Judas Iscariot (note that even Judas’ name, יהודה, starts with a yud!), who agreed to betray Jesus with a kiss for thirty pieces of silver – as predicted by Jesus during the Last Supper.

“When Jesus had said this, he was troubled in spirit and testified, ‘Very truly I tell you, one of you is going to betray me.” – John 13:21.

The Pharisees brought Jesus to the Romans and asked them to crucify him for blasphemy and claiming to be the Messiah. Despite Jesus’ awareness of the outcomes of everything he said and did during his ministry – he predicted his betrayal, arrestation, and crucifixion during the Last Supper – he did not try to flee. When confronted with the accusations and questions of the Jewish Counsel, King Herod, and Pontius Pilates, who all wanted him to perform miracles on command, he did nothing and remained almost entirely silent.

In charge with the ultimate decision over Yeshua’s life or death was the latter, who was the Roman governor of Judea at the time. He washed his hands with water in front of the crowd, saying the innocent man’s blood would not be on his hands. The crowd responded:

“His blood shall be on us and our children!” – Matthew 27:25.

Pilate’s decision to authorize Jesus’ execution should be understood within the political and social context of the time. His primary concern was maintaining order and stability in the province of Judea, prone to unrest and rebellion. The Jewish chief priests viewed Jesus as a threat to their authority and sought his execution on charges of crimes he did not commit: blasphemy and claiming to be a king. The latter offense could be seen as challenging Roman rule.

Pilate likely saw Jesus as a potential instigator of unrest but also recognized that Jesus’ claims did not pose a direct threat to Roman authority. However, faced with pressure from the Pharisees and the threat of a potential riot, Pilate chose to appease the Jewish leaders and maintain order by authorizing Jesus’s crucifixion.

His decision was a politically expedient compromise to preserve his own position, not a reflection of Jesus’ actual guilt or innocence. But it was Jesus’ own people who betrayed him, turned him in, and insisted he should be murdered. Pontius Pilatus indeed washed his hands in innocence, but the Pharisees did the same thing by handing Yeshua over to the goyim to crucify him and rid themselves of the responsibility of the crime they demanded but did not execute themselves.

In the 33rd year of his life, on a Friday at 9 o’ clock in the morning, Yeshua was nailed to the cross on Golgotha, a rocky hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem, on which he suffered an excruciatingly painful death, exhaling his last breath at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. (I can’t help but notice the abundance of 3’s – even 9 is a multiplication of 3 – and associate it with the Holy Trinity, the most mysterious concept in Christianity.) Only his mother Mary, his close compagnon Mary Magdalene, a few other women, and his youngest disciple John, were courageous enough to show their faces at the execution on Golgotha. The rest of the disciples were hiding, terrified of undergoing the same fate.

Jesus’ dead body was taken from the cross and layed in the arms of his weeping mother – a scene that was carved into stone by thousands of sculptures. A replica of Michelangelo’s pieta adorned the hall of the Catholic school I was raised in. I remember staring at Mary’s face and imagining how she must have felt when she saw all the blood and wounds on the tortured body of her son. The prophet Isaiah prophesized Jesus’ execution among two criminals and burial in the tomb of a wealthy man:

“He was assigned a grave with the wicked, and with the rich in his death, though he had done no violence, nor was any deceit in his mouth.” – Isaiah 53:9

On the third day, which marked the beginning of the Jewish week, it was a woman who discovered Jesus’ tomb empty. Christine Pedotti, author of the book ‘Jesus, the man who loved women’ posits that this detail lends credence to the authenticity of Jesus’ biography, suggesting that since women were not held in as high esteem as men during that time, it would be unlikely for the Gospel authors to attribute such a significant event to a woman.

Jesus’ treatment of women was revolutionary: he regarded them as equal human beings capable of engaging in meaningful conversations, rather than relegating them to domestic roles such as cooking and cleaning. The first person to see the ressurected Jesus was Mary Magdalene. He later appeared to all of his disciples, and a crowd of 500 people. Jesus had performed his greatest miracle: he stood up from the dead.

I still cannot grasp how my religion teachers in high school failed to explain the deeper meaning of the cross and the gigantic philosophical, moral, and spiritual value of Jesus’ life. Luckily, entire libraries have been filled with books of brilliant thinkers, like Erich Fromm, who tackled the subject of Christ from a psycho-analytical viewpoint, Emmet Fox, who explained the hidden meanings of every recorded sermon in the New Testimony, and the contemporary psychologist and author Dr. Jordan B. Peterson, who explained his views of Christ in his Biblical Series.

The life of Christ is a mindblowing metaphor of the human condition. Every moment of his life, every figure he encounters, every aspect of his existence, reflects something that occurs in all of our lives. You, like Christ, have a mission to fulfill on Earth. That mission is the cross you must carry. Your path will be strewn with obstacles and problems, that will inevitably result in suffering. In that sense, Yeshua’s story is universal and eternal: it has not only happened before, but it is happening right now, and will always happen. What happened to him, will metaphorically happen to all of us.

Just like the Sanhedrin despised Christ for speaking a truth they didn’t understand, some people in your life will despise you, too. Just like Judas betrayed Christ, some alleged friends will betray you, with the same proverbial kiss. Just like Peter and nearly all the other disciples abandoned Christ when he was crucified, some will abandon you, when you most need them. But just like Mary Magdalene, his mother, and his beloved disciple John always loved Christ and never left his side, some will love you unconditionally, and follow you every step of the way. Their love makes your life worth living.

Just like Yeshua chased away the Devil in the desert, you must conquer your own demons, acknowledge your dark side, face your suffering, heal your pain, and through this all, strive to become a better version of yourself. That is your ultimate purpose, the very reason you exist.

You can also choose not to better yourself – you are a being with free will. But if you do, and if you manage to get through the difficult times with faith in God, or Love, or Goodness, or Righteousness, or whatever it is you believe in, you will be transformed, and you will have become your own Messiah.

The old you will die, and the new You will resurrect.

The true meaning of Jesus’ life, whether one believes he was a rabbi, a politician, an instigator of unrest, a spiritual master, the Messiah, or the Word of God incarnated, is the promise he gave us. Anyone who follows him as the Truth, the Way, and the Life, will be saved.

I want to finish this essay with a brilliant comment I read somewhere on the internet:

He had no servants, yet they called Him Master.
He had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.
He had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.
He had no army, yet kings feared Him.
He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.
He did not live in a castle, yet they called Him Lord.
He ruled no nations, yet they called Him King.
He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.