Why do we call it Good? It is the paradox that T.S. Eliot writes about in his poem East Coker (Four Quartets). He had become a Christian and realized it is suffering that drew him to “the wounded surgeon.”

The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we fell
The sharp compassion of the healer’s art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.

Our only health is the disease
If we obey the dying nurse
Whose constant care is not to please
But to remind of our, and Adam’s, curse,
And that, to be restored, our sickness must grow worse.

The whole earth is our hospital
Endowed by the ruined millionaire,
Wherein, if we do well, we shall
Die of the absolute paternal care
That will not leave us, but prevents us everywhere.

The chill ascends from feet to knees,
The fever sings in mental wires.
If to be warmed, then I must freeze
And quake in frigid purgatorial fires
Of which the flame is roses and the smoke is briars.

The dripping blood our only drink,
The bloody flesh our only food;
In spite of which we like to think
That we are sound, substantial flesh and blood–
Again, in spite of that, we call this Friday good.

The “wounded surgeon” king is the subject of this painting. It began as a demo in my February workshop. A figure of a man ripped out of a magazine was the central collage element that began this Incarnational painting. (In my Narrative Abstraction workshops, I intentionally introduce the eternal narrative.)

I purposely obscured and darkened his head, bowed and incised with a thorn crown.  I also added several other collage elements–text from Lamentations to the right of the figure, and near the bottom a poem about the red-flowered antherium.  To the left of the “Jesus figure,” I attached a current news article commemorating January 6th, 2023. Ironically, it seemed a fitting present-day analogy to the trial leading to the crucifixion of Jesus.

To portray the trial and capture of Jesus by the religious leaders who had Jesus crucified, I wanted figures in the foreground. To do this, I used my scraper tool to remove the top dark layers of oil and wax. I also sculpted figures beneath the earthly tribunal on the Capitol steps. The two shadowy figures have an uncanny resemblance to those controlling the Jan 6th narrative.

The top of this painting like most of my work alludes to the heavens. As the injustice and the human condition play itself out on earth, God reigns above. I attached a slash of gold leaf, and a figure emerged to the side. The figure was not intentional, but it was a reminder that God oversees the affairs of men. And it has since come to have greater meaning.

The God who sacrificed himself and allowed his capture and death, took the wrath of God against injustice and sin to capture a people for himself.

Psalm 68 is a wonderful poem of God scattering his enemies as he leads his people to refuge.

“You ascended on high, leading a host of captives in your train, and receiving gifts among men, even among the rebellious, . . . ”

On this Good Friday as you take communion, remember it is God who is good.

Thank him for his powerful precious blood.

He sets captives free. Thank him for capturing you!

Ah Holy Jesus, how hast thou offended,
that man to judge thee, hath in hate pretended?
By foes derided, by thine own rejected,
O most afflicted.

Who was the guilty, who brought this upon thee?
Alas my treason, Jesus hath undone thee.
T’was I, Lord Jesus, I, it was denied thee; I crucified thee.

Lo, the Good Shepherd, for the sheep is offered;
the slave hath sinned, and the Son hath suffered:
for man’s atonement, while he nothing heedeth,
God intercedeth.

For me kind Jesus, was thine incarnation,
thy mortal sorrow, and thy life’s oblation;
thy death of anguish and thy bitter passion, 
for my salvation.

Therefore, kind Jesus, since I cannot pay thee,
I do adore thee, and well ever pray thee, 
think on thy pity and thy love unswerving,
not my deserving.
(Herzliebster Jesu – Johann Cruger 1640)

Agnus Dei / Lamb of God (right)

It is reassuring to know that Jesus is our Advocate, our Defender in God’s heavenly courtroom. Because He pleads our case, we do not have to fear eternal condemnation, and we know that the Lord will receive us into His blessed presence at our deaths or His return, whichever comes first. Take heart, Jesus not only defends us before our Father in heaven from our enemies, but he is the God who rescues us and take our broken hearts captive. (from Table Talk devotional-March 27)