Other people have written more knowledgeably about how this time-capsule from our mediaeval ancestors survived the protestant iconoclasm of the C17 under a coat of whitewash, emerging after a rainy night on a later restoration project to speak to us so eloquently of ways of thinking and worship now irrevocably lost. My interest is in how this piece of art brings both a future, and the spiritual, into our present.
It's a curious piece of social commentary that the rich - king & queen, cardinal and pope - are shown at the centre of the picture being welcomed into heaven. The message from the painting to its mediaeval audience seems clear: those of high social status are righteous, and will inherit an eternal reward. This view is supported by the Bible text beneath the picture from Romans 13:1-4
Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves. For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong. Do you want to be free from fear of the one in authority? Then do what is right and you will be commended. For the one in authority is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason. They are God’s servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.But perhaps the painting's message is more complex. The four rich people are all naked, apart from their identifying headwear; under the trappings of prosperity, all humans are equal. In its own time, and perhaps in ours too, a salutory reminder to those of us insulated from human suffering by prosperity and social status often derived from education or profession of how fragile these things are, and ultimately how meaningless. For our society, increasingly divided by disparities between rich and poor, this painting reminds us of some essential equalities.
Also interesting is how this painting externalises the consequences of how lives are lived. Human beings are notoriously bad at evaluating the future consequences of present actions; in one of my past roles this was called 'optimism bias'. There is no optimism bias in this picture, no hope of 'getting away with' a life lived with no understanding of the consequences of injustice commited in the present, no comfort that things will work out with our best interests preserved.
However warm the promised punishment for the wicked, this painting could just be viewed as cold comfort for those who suffer(ed) an impoverished present. A future heavenly reward for the 'good' and a future hellish punishment for the 'bad' might offer the comfort of a changed perspective on current circumstances but little else of present benefit. You can't eat this painting or its vision. Material comfort came, and comes, not just from the painting itself but from the response it tries to provoke in those who I think are the real targets of its message.
This portrayl of judgement as a single point in the future should remind us, as perhaps it reminded those who saw this before it was hidden away, of the very real needs of our world and the ability of our actions now to influence this. By bringing a future into our present, along with a spiritual dimension to our present lives, this painting reminds us of how far a response to its message of essential human equality could carry, with all its consequences of good towards those without a crown or a cardinal's beretta.
