Two years ago on the eve of St. Matthew’s feast day, I posted a reflection on one of Rome’s most spectacular artistic compositions: Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio’s St. Matthew cycle. This year I thought I’d share some pictures of a lesser-known depiction of the same event by an artist from the generation that followed Caravaggio, Mattia Preti (1613-1699).
Preti was born in Calabria three years after Caravaggio died, though he worked in many of the same locales as the earlier artist, among them Rome, Naples, and Malta. He also clearly shows the influence of Caravaggio’s style: the realism and intensity, religious passion, and the effect–as spiritual as it is artistic–of radiant light emerging from the darkness.
Robert Gould Shaw and Massachusetts 54th Regiment Memorial, Boston
A few weeks ago I recommended checking out the new Substack of my friend Rachel Lu. Yesterday, Rachel posted a piece looking back on 9/11 in Law & Liberty which I highly recommend as well. It’s a piece I find especially resonant because Rachel writes about joining the Peace Corps in the wake of the attacks, and I did exactly the same thing.
In fact, we were classmates at Notre Dame at the time, and both happened to end up as Peace Corps volunteers in different former Soviet Republics in Central Asia — Rachel in Uzbekistan and I in Kazakhstan. Uzbekistan was certainly the more Islamic of the two, Kazakhstan more cosmopolitan and secular. More than the biographical similarities, however, I found myself resonating with the sentiments Rachel expresses — from a slightly naive but still fundamentally good youthful idealism to a deeper concern over the self-destructive tendencies American culture has shown in the quarter century since 9/11. I even learned a new word — oikophobia — which seems apt.
Here’s Rachel’s blurb about the essay in Substack:
I never risked life or limb like [those who signed up for military service], and signed on only for a form of service you’re allowed to quit at any time (though I didn’t, at least not until my term of service was up). Still, my little contribution meant something, at least to me, and I go on to reflect on how Americans’ understanding of themselves has changed over time. So much, in fact, that one sometimes wonders: Did Osama bin Laden finally win the war of hearts and minds?
Homily for the twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A).
St. Ambrose and the Emperor Theodosius, Peter Paul Reubens 1615-6
One of the most important works of Italian literature is a collection of 100 short stories supposedly told by a group of people from Florence who were locked down in a country house during the Black Plague. They didn’t have Netflix, so they told stories. Some of the stories are really just off-color jokes, but since they’re more than 600 years old, now they’re considered literature. One of those stories deals with a problem that’s at the heart of today’s Gospel.
There were two merchants, one Christian, one Jewish, living in Florence, and the Christian was always trying to convince his Jewish friend to convert. One day, the Jewish merchant announced that he had to go to Rome for business, and his Catholic friend despaired. You see, the fourteenth century was the low point of Church corruption, and he knew that if his Jewish friend went to Rome he would see the pope and the cardinals using the Church to enrich themselves, their relatives, and their illegitimate children. And the Catholic merchant thought, “Now he’ll never become a Christian.”
So he was shocked a month later when his friend returned from Rome a devout Catholic. He tried to ask delicately, “But didn’t you see anything wrong in Rome?” And his newly baptized friend said, “Oh, it’s a swamp. But if that is how the Church is run, and it’s still here after 1300 years, it can only be God who is keeping it going.”
Yearning to read something smart? Lord knows there’s plenty of schlock and silliness on social media when it comes to both religion and society. Algorithms often tend to multiply the obscene and bombastic — which is why when intelligent and original voices emerge it’s worth passing the word.
My friend Rachel Lu, a senior editor at Law & Liberty, whose work has appeared in America magazine, the National Review, and numerous other publications, has launched a new Substack page called Christendom Reborn. It comments on philosophy, culture, religion, motherhood, history, society, books, and more. The first couple of posts in which Rachel explains the impetus behind the project and gives wickedly smart reviews of some of the books that influenced her approach are especially worthwhile. Consider subscribing and hopefully we can goad Rachel into turning her ideas into a book…
While you’re at it, if you haven’t done so already, consider subscribing to this blog as well (also free!) so that you aren’t at the mercy of algorithms to stay updated but can receive an email update every week.