Reflecting on Palm Sunday via this 700-Year-Old Painting.

Here’s a quick quiz question: When do you think this painting was painted? It was painted in 1305, so we are looking at a more than 700-year-old painting.

It’s called The Entry into Jerusalem by Giotto and hangs in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, Italy.

It’s so early that it doesn’t even fall within the time we consider the Renaissance. Sometimes, this period is thought of as the Proto-Renaissance. Unlike the stylised art of the earlier Byzantine tradition, which dominated previous centuries, Giotto revolutionised art by accurately depicting the human and natural world. As a result, he is widely acknowledged as the first of the Italian Masters.

The entry into Jerusalem is pivotal for Jesus’ story because it appears in all four Gospels. Early Christians also embraced the festival; Palm Sunday was celebrated in Jerusalem as early as the 4th century.

OK, enough with the introductions — let’s look carefully at the composition of the painting.

Notice how Giotto has positioned the key elements in the scene:

• Jesus,

• the disciples,

• Jerusalem itself

• and the crowd…

The artist has placed Jesus in the centre of the painting, with the disciples on the left and the crowd flowing out of the city of Jerusalem on the right.

Against a brilliant blue sky, two eager people from the crowd sway in the trees, picking branches to honour him. The disciples seem to be crowded together on the left side of the painting, and we can only see the faces of four of them. The tops of their heads and a swath of rich golden halos hint at the rest of the twelve. They are attentive and clear-headed, observing the crowd carefully and cautiously.

And, well, they might. They have heard from Jesus — three times, no less — that he would be arrested and killed in Jerusalem. What lies ahead is unknown and slightly scary. This outburst of praise and shouting was undoubtedly hopeful and unsettling for them.

The welcoming crowd positioned on the right is quite different. It includes both men and women; there is space around them, and we can see each face clearly. There is a tremendous sense of movement as they surge out of the city gates to greet Jesus.

People are climbing trees and ripping off branches. With grave solemnity, one man lays down his coat on the road — an improvised ‘red carpet’ marking the arrival of a great dignitary, while two others pull off their cloaks and still another waves his palm branch.

Their mouths are open, and we can almost hear them shouting

‘Hosanna to the Son of David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!’

How does the artist focus our attention on Jesus? Giotto draws our attention to the central figure in this narrative in various ways.

As has been observed, Jesus is placed in the centre of the composition. He is the most prominent figure in the painting. His head is surrounded by the clear blue sky and is positioned between the vertical lines of the trees. However, the donkey plays a unique role in this fresco. Relatively large and positioned in the centre of the painting, she steps forward boldly and obediently with her colt beside her, mirroring Jesus as the faithful servant of God.

With one ear pointing backwards and one pointing forwards — one ear attuned to her master and one to the crowd — she seems to be a bridge between what is past and what lies ahead.

The artist makes us feel close to the action as if we are participants, too. How? He has the whole scene occurring in the foreground. The painted space is continuous with our space as viewers. It almost seems as if Jesus is passing in front of us, and we find ourselves drawn into the swoosh of palm branches and the shouts of praise.

We are called upon to rejoice greatly and welcome a King who comes for our salvation. He alone offers salvation. He comes not as a warrior on a prancing war horse nor as a political revolutionary for the overthrow of Rome,

But entering Jerusalem, riding on a humble donkey to bring hope and peace. All of this has been planned in advance by Jesus. It is clear from the Bible that Jesus has arranged for the donkey to be available. He requests that the disciples go and find the donkey and the colt, untie them and bring them to him. He fully understands the symbolism and embraces it.

He will enter Jerusalem as its true and promised King. While the crowds surge and shout in the streets, Giotto captures this one still point: Jesus, embodying messianic dignity, sits amidst it all, extending a gesture of peace and blessing.

On the cusp of all that will be revealed in Jerusalem of lies and hostility, abandonment, brutality, ridicule, senseless violence and gruesome death, Jesus’ focus is not on himself.

He reflects peace and extends blessings to others. The two fingers pointed upwards traditionally also suggest his divinity and humanity.

Aware of the crucifixion that lies ahead, we might be tempted to try to stop Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. We might want to cry, ‘Go back!’ and try blocking the rider’s way.

Until we remember that this King brings salvation — the salvation we need.

So instead, we add our voices to the crowd:

Ride on, ride on in majesty;I n lowly pomp, ride on to die: O Christ, Thy triumphs now begin O’er captive death and conquered sin. Ride on, ride on in majesty;I n lowly pomp, ride on to die: Bow Thy meek head to mortal pain; Then take O God, Thy power and reign.