What links ham that’s been kept hanging in a dank cellar for years, sawdust on pasta and Italy’s second oldest University? Parma. In Italy.
I remember a day trip there. City breaks with children feel like juggling with grenades in a crowded space. At any moment there will be an explosion, and who knows which innocent bystander will be caught up in the emotional outburst?
On arrival, we attempted lunch in a restaurant as a family. It went remarkably well. I did not need to shout, “If your bottom leaves your chair again there will be no ice cream for pudding, or indeed for any pudding, or for any refreshing mid afternoon snack… ever.” or “Stop crying so loudly. Stop crying so loudly. STOP CRYING SO LOUDLY.” I am constantly amazed by foreign children who look more at home doing fine dining than I do. They sit through endless courses of offal while my children search the horizon for a playground, or any interior décor that could be used as such.
We visited the Roman Catholic Cathedral. It was epic. I had forgotten that while we (in England) mostly do stone carving in our cathedrals, the Italians go bonkers for paintings on every possible surface (especially the non-flat upside down ones). Many featured stories from the life of Jesus. So we sat down, looking up and working them out.
For the nativity scene, we pondered why babies were being lowered through the roof of the shed. For some reason Italians paint angels as fat flying babies. No idea why.
For the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, I asked which Bible story featured a donkey. “Mary rode one to Bethlehem” my son declared. Actually, I don’t think the Bible says that she did, but once we had identified that this donkey rider was male, we were back on track.
The back wall was the Ascension. I thought it was the highlight. The artist had painted everyone in shock and awe as our Lord headed off to rule the Universe. Even statues were painted coming to life to watch the goings on. Great action sequence. The children’s enjoyment of it was slightly marred, in that they struggled to find Jesus Christ, so for them it was just lots of people looking up at the sky as if waiting for fireworks.
The painting on the inside of the main dome, which was intended to be the highlight, was the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. Catholic tradition says that whilst Jesus got an ‘Ascension’, Mary got an ‘Assumption’, which seems to mean that you’re sort of hoovered up to Heaven. The earliest source for this Assumption business is the 5th Century. It’s certainly not in the Bible. There was optional extra lighting available if you put two Euros in a box on the wall. Our daughter fancied it. I thought that as the whole wonderful cathedral had cost us nothing, it was well worth it. She put in the coin. The bright lights went on. She thought is was excellent. Our son, meanwhile, never looked up. He was more interested in the box on the wall, which had two slots: “Which slot did she put hers in? Then what happened? What would happen if you pushed a coin into the second slot?”
Fascinating questions, but I can’t help feeling he’d missed the point. Just like whoever decided to use the best available surface in the whole of the building to illustrate a fictional event involving a supporting character of the greatest true story ever, rather than using it to feature the hero. Just like us, who get so caught up in teaching table-manners and refereeing arguments that we forget to look up and see the glory of our ascended Lord.
“Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. 3 For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.” Colossians 3:1-4
Parenting is a battle to set our hearts on things above. Christ has ascended to his throne. I loved the way the artist had the statues coming to life, as they witnessed Christ in Glory. Nothing will ever compare. And to imagine that our lives are now hidden with him in glory. How hard it is to understand that when so much of our time seems to be spent shouting, “Put your shoes on!” We need a painting to help us get our heads around that.
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