Kramskoi's Christ in the Wilderness
Thoughts on a favorite painting
Growing up Catholic, the images that surrounded me of Jesus were highly glorified, sanitized, and often mid-miracle. What I love about Kramskoi’s Christ in the Wilderness is how it avoids that trope. It’s a moment that tells us what it really meant when the son of God became man.
As God the omnipotent being, being in the desert for 40 days is a blink. But as a regular guy? Man, it sucks. That much is apparent in his gaunt expression and disheveled hair.
It’s an understatement to say that Jesus suffered a lot. There’s the thorns, the lashings, and the nails through the hands and feet. The pain must’ve been unimaginable—which is my problem.
No one in my Instagram Close Friends has ever gone through anything like that. On paper, I can see why it would be rough, but my empathy stretches only so far. Maybe Kramskoi had the same problem.
We see this Jesus exhausted, probably starving, and locking in as hard as he can to prepare for another miserable night. I’m 100% sure I’ve hit this pose at my desk unintentionally when the week wasn’t going my way.
This eye-level depiction of Jesus doesn’t glow. He slouches. He’s tired. He’s done.
He’s just like me.