Rembrandt & young Isaac – Vayyera
In 17th-century Holland, religion played little role in painting. Portraiture and human types, still life, land- and seascapes, street scenes and animals were depicted. But Calvinists preferred not to combine art and religion, and religious art had no leading exponent other than Rembrandt.
Many of Rembrandt’s works deal with the Bible. Yet within this work one sees stages of development. At first he took a rather theatrical approach, stressing the outward, physical signs of religious experience. But as he grew older and life brought him suffering and sorrow, the spirituality of his work became more profound and reflective of the inward reaction to the Divine.
This week’s sidra reminds us that in 1635 he painted The Sacrifice of Abraham. 20 years later came an etching on the same subject. In the earlier work the emphasis is on the drama of the moment. Isaac is upon the altar. The old father has a broad grip on his son’s face and he is ready for the fateful cut. With a whirlwind movement the angel swoops down and seizes Abraham’s wrist with such force that the knife falls from his grip.
The etching of 1655 stresses Abraham’s inward reaction. Rembrandt is no longer so interested in giving Abraham a surprise with the sudden appearance of the angel. Now the patriarch’s inner feelings are what matters. Isaac is no longer stretched out like an animal for the slaughter. He kneels with innocent submissiveness beside his father, who presses his son’s head to his own body – a far more poignant, human gesture than the brutal grasp of the head in the earlier painting. The angel appears from behind and takes hold of Abraham’s arms tenderly. Abraham has not yet seen him, but he feels that the grace and blessing of God have descended.
Rembrandt had learned that it was not the outward impressiveness that mattered: it was human emotion and spiritual feeling. He learned a lesson, and so can we. It is not the synagogue walls that make the place holy, but the spirit, mood and inner experience within.
It is not the outward compliance with set forms alone that brings us to God, but the personal commutment and meaning that come with them. It is not a person’s facade and veneer that indicate their identity, but their inner character, ideas and values.
A magificent exterior can mask an inner emptiness.
