Crammed with Heaven: Finding Jesus in Glasgow

A monthly column in which Jenni Pretorius Hill shares stories of hope which bring Heaven’s perspective to Earth

I don’t know much about art, and the little I do know has been inspired only by the emotions that certain works have provoked in me. One such piece was a depiction of Jesus on the cross, which I saw in the National Gallery in London more than 20 years ago. It stood elevated in the corner of a room, seeming to draw all the light and my attention so that every other painting disappeared from my focus and recall. The painter’s name meant nothing to me however, and I kicked myself afterwards for not making a note of it because I wanted to find a copy of the piece somewhere. For years after I left England, I tried to bring to mind the exact image so that I could look up the artist, but slowly it blurred into just another crucifixion picture. I couldn’t remember its detail, but I remembered the awe and the feeling of wanting to cry when I had looked at it.

I had forgotten about it until about a month ago when the thought flashed through my mind: I would love to see that masterpiece, in the flesh, again. And then the thought was gone and I busied myself in preparation for a trip to Scotland, where I had been asked to teach at an author’s school, hosted by YWAM. On the Saturday after my week of teaching, I decided on a day’s outing to Glasgow. Amongst other things, I would visit the museum and art gallery at Kelvin Grove. For the first hour, a friend and I wandered through the ground floor looking at Scottish design in architecture, ceramics and fashion. We had arranged to meet another friend we had come with on the hour, in the entrance hall, and on our way there, a curator stopped us and asked whether we needed any direction. Before we could respond, he pointed to the floor above us. “Don’t miss the main attraction. Salvador Dali’s painting, up there.” I didn’t have to look at the photo in the brochure he was holding out to know that this was it! I remembered. Salvador Dali and his Christ of Saint John of the Cross. My sudden decision to catch a train to Glasgow had felt so random – there were so many other options – and the visit to the museum was because of a brief, passing exchange. I hadn’t looked it up, and I didn’t have any expectations for what I would see. I may have missed the painting altogether had it not been for the friendly curator and the beeline he had made for us. God had caught that fleeting thought like He does our prayers.

So, I found myself once more in front of the magnificent painting of Jesus suspended above Port Lligat, invisible to the men beneath, but imbuing the whole world with the enormity of His love offering. I wish I could have stood longer in the little room it was displayed in, but there were so many people and I felt self-conscious to lie, or kneel, which was what I really would have liked to have done.

At the exhibit, I read about the reactions of people to the painting. When it was first displayed in the 1950s, men would remove their hats and little children would stare with tears pouring down their cheeks. Now, in secular-humanist Glasgow, the painting is still the main attraction at Kelvin Grove. It’s not as if Dali is the only famous painter represented; there are originals from Van Gogh, Renoir, Picasso, Monet, Rembrandt… There’s a spitfire suspended from the ceiling, and a sarcophagus and artifacts from Egypt dating thousands of years before Christ; there are relics from the great Scottish wars, and Viking boats dug up from under the lochs, along with fossils of long-extinct, monstrous creatures. There’s a lot to see that one might say challenges our Christian beliefs even, and yet, people are drawn to the one thing that captures it the most – a saviour on a cross.

Dali, a Catholic believer, said the painting was based on the only sketch in a journal of Saint John of the Cross – a 16th century friar. He professed to seeing the details in a dream, accompanied by a voice instructing him to paint it. Dali experienced the power in the sketch, believing the friar had created it in a moment of supernatural encounter. I felt it too; it’s more than a beautiful piece of art. It carries something tangible, and while one may not be able to name what that is, it lingers with you afterwards so that you want to be in its presence, again and again.

You may never view Christ of Saint John of the Cross in the flesh, but the opportunity of daily communing with the person of Jesus, who inspired the work in the first place, is yours to have. We get to live in His presence – not only during this holy week of Easter – but every single day! He draws us in (just as He drew me to what I really longed to see again). I could have missed the prompting and then I would have missed the moment. I’ve done that so many times – missed that quiet beckoning into His presence. My friends, this Easter and beyond, allow your heart to be still for long enough to hear His calling. And then linger. Choose to stay in that place of wonder; you’ll feel Him there.

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