A Glimpse of Heaven
Blessed John of Fiesole, pray for us.
Happy feast of Blessed John of Fiesole. Doesn’t ring a bell? Well, he was born Guido, before taking the name Brother John when he entered the Dominicans. I don’t blame you if you’re still lost. Most of us know him by his nickname, Fra Angelico.
I suppose if I’m canonized someday, there’s a chance everyone will call me St. Joannie instead of St. Joan.
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to once again visit the convent of San Marco in Florence. If you are in Florence and can see only one thing, I know this sounds bizarre, but I would say… go to San Marco. Sure, there’s the Duomo and the Uffizi and the David and a thousand other pieces of art and dozens of other churches.
Go to San Marco.
While living in the Dominican priory of San Marco, Fra Angelico and his students painted stunning frescoes in every cell, in addition to the corridors and courtyard. Originally hidden to the public, now the priory is a museum, and visitors can see these incredible frescoes that came from prayer and inspired prayer. It is like no other museum you’ll ever visit; the sanctity of the monks that lived there for hundreds of years has left its mark, and as you walk the corridors in silence, you are drawn into the mysteries of the Faith, as Bl. John and his students were when they painted.
You have probably seen many of the works on holy cards; now you see them in situ.
The simplicity of Mary’s home is apparent – she is not in Nazareth, but at San Marco.
Again and again, as you pause in the doorways of the little cells, each one bringing a new delight to your eye, you are taken into the mystery of the Incarnation. God–the Almighty, Omniscient, Eternal God–entered His creation. Became one of us. Walked the dirty roads and slept on hard ground. And then died. For us. For love.
The simplicity of the Holy Family, the cruelty of the Crucifixion, and the love of God come forth in each cell. And you are drawn into gratitude: to God, for salvation, for life, and for art.
You leave San Marco knowing what heaven must look like.
For more on San Marco, see here.
In 2019, I had the rare opportunity to see the Cappella Niccolina in the Vatican Museums, a small stunning room that is usually closed to the public. After living in Florence, Fra Angelico was called to work in Rome for the popes. One of his projects during this time was painting Pope Nicholas V’s private chapel. The chapel is filled with scenes of the lives of deacon-saints Stephen and Lawrence, in addition to the four evangelists and eight doctors of the Church.
I’ve seen a lot of art, particularly Renaissance art. This took my breath away.
Fra Angelico’s talent shines in the stark, humble simplicity of San Marco. Simple figures painted on cold, rough walls. The faces glow with realism.
The Niccoline Chapel is on the opposite end of the spectrum: the small room is full of scenes and figures that it makes your head spin. Gold leaf (some from the New World) accents the the cloaks of the figures, like an illuminated manuscript. The faces glow with realism. You leave that chapel knowing what heaven must look like.
It seems that in the spirit of St. Paul, Fra Angelico knew how to work in both humble and abundant circumstances. Whether in abundance or in need, Fra Angelico’s painting is clearly empowered by the Lord. In all things, he preaches the God who strengthened him (cf Philippians 4:12-13).
Some say that John Paul II beatified Bl. John of Fiesole by saying that chapel was his miracle. We know, of course, that Blessed John’s work simply shows the world the fruit of his prayer, his life, and his love.
Beautiful!
Such a lovely tribute to Blessed Fra Angelico! Thank you, Joan.