The painting is found in the chapel dedicated to St. Matthew in the Church of San Luigi dei Francesi. The donor of the chapel was a French cardinal, Matthieu Cointerel, who died in 1585. This was the first commission for Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio, who was hired in July 1599. A year later, “The Calling of Saint Matthew” and “The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew,” depicting the beginning and the end of the apostle Matthew’s ministry, were installed.
The motto that Francis selected for his papacy, “miserando atque eligendo,” translated as “looking at him with mercy, he chose him,” is directly connected with this painting. The words “miserando atque eligendo” come from a sermon on the calling of Matthew written in the eighth century by the celebrated monk and historian Bede the Venerable. It is used in the readings for the Feast of St. Matthew on Sept. 21.
‘The Calling of Saint Matthew’
Matthew is described in the Bible as a tax collector, viewed at the time as a highly dubious occupation. In the painting, Christ enters the room from the right. We see only his silhouetted head and outstretched arm pointing in Matthew’s direction.
Light from the window behind Christ, which aligns with the actual light from the window in the chapel, falls on a group of men, including some handsome youths in fancy clothes, counting money. Matthew, the bearded man in the center, makes a gesture that suggests, “Who, me?”
Matthew became one of four disciples of Christ – along with Mark, Luke and John – whose accounts of Christ’s life, called Gospels, are included in the Bible.
Francis and Jesuit training
Francis’ thinking about this painting was shaped by his training as a Jesuit, a Catholic order that he entered in 1958. Jesuits practice something called a process of “discernment.” The painting represents God calling to Matthew to show him his will for the future, one that requires discernment. The founder of the order, Ignatius of Loyola, stressed a humble but vigorous effort to understand God’s will for each individual, as part of this process.
Ignatius’ own life demonstrated this search for God’s will. His initial career as a soldier ended when he was gravely wounded in the battle of Pamplona in 1521, permanently damaging his leg. He subsequently tried to follow the life of a hermit, meditating in solitude, and then tried to become a missionary to the Holy Land.
At the age of 33, he entered a university in order to become a priest, ultimately initiating the most influential transformation of religious education since the Middle Ages. Jesuits became a great teaching force, stressing individual study and debate over memorization. Ignatius was named a saint in 1622.
The central painting in the chapel, “Inspiration of Saint Matthew” is Caravaggio’s third painting, which was put in place in 1602. The patrons originally planned to install statues at the center, but upon their arrival they rejected the idea and commissioned Caravaggio instead. This painting also shows the saint searching to understand God’s directions.
In this painting, Matthew is in conversation with his symbol, a winged man. Each of the four evangelists are represented in art through symbols. The winged man symbol for Matthew refers to the beginning of his Gospel that records the genealogy of Christ.
The angel-like figure, resembling one of the young men depicted alongside the saint in Caravaggio’s “The Calling of St. Matthew,” appears to hold his left index finger with his right hand, as if to signal that this is the first and most important point. Matthew seems careworn, even distracted, struggling to write while leaning his knee on a bench.
Francis remarked in his biography that Caravaggio increased viewers’ empathy by using “contemporary figures from the artist’s own time.” The figures in the painting are dressed in clothes worn in Italy in the late 16th century, so that the viewers in Caravaggio’s time could see themselves in the painting.
Viewers come to art with different perspectives derived from their own experiences and challenges. Francis, too, connected to art through his own experiences.
Virginia Raguin does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.