No concept is more central to the life of Christianity than resurrection. The Gospel of John climaxes at the raising of Lazarus in chapter 11 in order to foreshadow the culminating resurrection of Jesus himself. Over the past few weeks I have looked intently into this Johannine gem, preached on its transformational power, and attempted to understand my own life in its reflection. Because of who I am, I also have tried to understand how different artists have illustrated this notable event, what that suggests about history, and what that suggests about us.
Many artists have illustrated the dramatic account of Lazarus because of its significance to the gospel, but there are differences in how each artist chose to portray the scene. Some are obvious. For instance in the third-century catacomb painting below, Jesus looks more like a hellenistic Roman citizen rather than a carpenter from Nazareth. Different cultures generally fashion their image of how Christ lived, dressed, spoke, and thought around their own surroundings (often very personal surroundings). Another conscious decision on the part of the artist is what verse to emphasize. Often people, even biblically-literate people, do not think about this as they wander aimlessly through the centuries of religious narratives in an art gallery. Why did the artist portray that moment, include that image, and compose the painting in that way? Another difference is the theological message of the work. Often an understanding of Christian history provides information on these topics.
Early Catacomb Painting
For much of early Christian history sin was perceived as a virus that affected all of humanity after the Fall. Augustine, who most clearly developed this theme, wrote, “Through the bad will of that one man all sinned in him (Marriage and Desire 2.1.15).” This concept of “original sin” underscores why so many artists depicted Lazarus totally confined in his death garments unable to move without the aid of Christ.

Arian Depictions
Constantine’s rule certainly changed Christianity. Much of the following centuries centered on defining heresy and solidifying appropriate understandings of canonical interpretation. Not surprising, Christians battled over everything from what is the form of that canon to the nature of Christ. Some of the decisions made were easier than others, but it certainly was telling of the shifting sets of values as Christianity branched out across the empire.
The culmination of the ante-Nicean period was the threat of heretical teaching from a Alexandrian bishop named Arius in the early-4th century. Arius contended that the Son was not coeternal with the Father, but the first of the created beings. This view extended previous understandings of the separate function of the Logos from the immutable Father (i.e. from Justin, Clement, Origen, etc.). Beginning as a local dilemma, the Arian cause soon grew to a major divide within Christendom. When the bishops gathered in 325 at Nicea to discuss numerous issues, the debate over the nature of the Trinity left Arius, Eusebius of Nicomedia (the major Arian spokesperson at Nicea), and others banished from their cities. But eventually even Constantine declared he acted too harshly on the matter. On his death bed, he requested baptism from Eusebius, the once danished Arian from Nicomedia. The issue of how to perceive the nature of Christ continued to spark vicious controversy.
The disputes between Arianism and Nicene “orthodoxy” continued for centuries with often violent results. In the mid-sixth century, Theodoric and the Arian Ostrogoths expanded their rule into the Italian peninsula. As expected they clashed with an established Nicean population forcing the local Christians to appeal to Emperor Justinian in Constantinople for protection. The new ruler Justinian eventually came to their aid primarily to thwart a growing Lombard military push in northern Italy. This ended the Ostrogoth kingdom and with it some of the final vestiges of Arian Christianity in Europe.
One of the major physical landmarks constructed under Theodoric’s reign was the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo in the capital city of Ravenna in the northeastern Italian peninsula. The interior has a beautiful set of twenty-six mosaic panels that illustrate the life of Christ. One of these is the Raising of Lazarus. Lazarus once again is depicted fully enwrapped in the death garments. Even more striking about this work, however, is the addition of a cruciform halo over Christ’s head. When Justinian rebuilt the basilica in 560, not only was Lazarus reconstituted, but also Christ’s sign of divinity.

Modern Depictions
As monastic communities attempted to quarantine themselves from medieval heresy and violence, their also came a new perspective on human nature. The humanist drive of the Renaissance and the theological fallout from the Protestant Reformation convinced many that human nature was not as corrupt as previously thought. Along with different interpretations of Scripture, this also meant a reinterpretation on how to communicate this message in art. Caravaggio was one artist who represents this difference. Although many other artists also focused on John 11:44, Caravaggio’s use of light, composition, and selection is a magnificent example of this shift.
Caravaggio (1571-1610) was actually named Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, but desired his Italian town name to represent himself. Although he never had a good relationship with the Pope, his work was a Counter-Reformational trend to revive Catholic art after the Protestant Reformation. He was rediscovered in the twentieth century and labeled as one of the major artists of the Baroque school of painting in Europe. Most notably, his composition is very dramatic with the overwhelming darkness and death (symbolized in the skull on the ground) encountering the light of Christ. Lazarus is positioned in crucifix form paralleling the act of Christ later in the gospel. But the most remarkable shift is in the death garments. No longer is Lazarus still confined to those death cloths, but he is experiencing the freedom of resurrection, albeit still rather confined.

Contemporary Depictions
If you know me well or have read my blog, you know I critique the loss of symbolism, intention, and richness that has plagued much of the contemporary religious art world. All too often it has succumbed to sentimentality, cheap visual devices, and lack of innovation to communicate the message. But with that slight digression also comes a reminder that sometimes the differences are more theological than aesthetic. Here is a link to a work from the Methodist Church Collection of Modern Christian Art showing the resurrection of Lazarus. Once again there is contemporary scene, dress, and imagery. Contemporary versions also may lack death garments (like this example). It seems like this piece is highlighting the complete freedom over death that Jesus provides. This is not a new emphasis, but it is certainly different than the presence of garments in previous works throughout Christian history.
***Note: Respecting the Methodist Church Collection of Modern Christian Art’s image publication policy, view this image linked here: John Reilly (1962)
So What?
So what are we to make of all of this? Not only are we a product of our theological time period, but Christians and non-Christians alike will often unknowingly reflect our own culture’s biases. My personal interpretation of the story of Lazarus is probably closest to Caravaggio’s expression. John’s Gospel makes it clear that something important is happening with the death garments. In John 11:44 it states,
“The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, ‘Unbind him, and let him go (NRSV).’”
Lazarus was raised, but he still needed help in the process of removing the death. Lazarus would die again, but Jesus would not have to experience death after his own resurrection. In fact, John further records in 20:6-7,
“Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself (NRSV).”
This is the Christian story. We so strive to have complete freedom of sin and death. Still, we long for the day that the sin garments can be completely rolled up and set aside and death is no more. John’s account is certainly a powerful testament to the “already-not-yet” magnificence of the Kingdom of God.