Every time I visit the Louvre, I walk past hundreds of paintings, waiting for one to catch my eye.
I’ve walked past this one many times now, but it’s only just caught my attention.
Let’s take a closer look.
The first thing that drew me in was this key detail, a detail I’ve probably missed the last hundred times I’ve passed this painting, and that is, the distinctive, yet subtle, serpentine characteristic of Peter’s eyes in this painting.
Here, we see in the eyes of the very man who is about to be designated as the first prince of the heavenly kingdom of God, in his eyes, we see a juxtaposing symbol of none other than the prince of lies, as we recall the image of the serpent in the garden, satan himself.
A deeply significant detail here as we gaze upon this artwork, and the painter takes us deep, into the psychology of a liar, as all of us are, some evidently more than others.
As we look down towards Peter’s hands, he grips tightly onto his robe, as he desperately tries to grab onto whatever he can hold onto. For when a person lies, they are no longer grounded in truth and reality, and in this reflexive action, the insecurity that all liars have deep down, is exposed for all to see.
His mouth gapes open, and as the scriptures say, he so desperate to keep up his charade that he even curses himself, swearing, “I do not know the man.”
And is this not what we do every day. For after all, the root of all sin is, to deny Christ. When we do in fact know the Truth, the Way, and the Light, but still choose to live in denial, to go our own way, live our own truth?
But this delusional state of existence is never sustainable, and you can only try to distract yourself and others away from the truth for so long, as Peter is trying to do here, pointing into the darkness in a pathetic attempt to, misdirect his inquisitors.
It’s easy to sit with your lies, until inevitably, someone catches on, and all of your futile defences, justifications, and deflections are nothing but, vague, muddy, and unclear, not unlike the darkness Peter is trying to direct attention to, in order to distract from his guilt, as he barely holds himself together.
On the topic of light and darkness, I’ve come to notice that it’s not uncommon for baroque artists to portray the more enlightened character facing towards the light, and the contrasting character as facing away from the light. Whether this theory holds any weight or not, I think it’s deeply symbolic of the interior state of the character, whether they are facing towards the light, and in that sense, towards God, or turned away from God, as Peter is here.
Someone who does seem enlightened however, is the servant girl from the scriptures, who first called Peter out. Her face is fully illuminated, her eyes catching the light from what is likely the fire they were warming themselves by. She places her hand over her breast, bringing to mind the saying “hand to heart”. It’s clear that unlike the solider on his left, she knows he’s lying, yet another reason why he’s facing, her, because he knows that she’s the one that needs convincing, not him.
In contrast, this soldier seems slightly more open to Peter’s tall tales, as he rests his hands together, calmly listening, seemingly open to being convinced. It’s fitting, that if we think about the quintessential image of the devil and angel on one’s shoulders, that the woman is on his right, and this soldier is on his left, for truly, nobody is more willing to hear your BS out, than the devil.
But with that idea in mind, let’s now take a look at his right shoulder. This, is what I believe is the true pièce de résistance, a second solider, almost blending into the darkness through the artist’s fitting use of tenebrism. As his eye catches a tiny sliver of light, our eyes as the viewer are drawn towards his eerie, lurking presence. Even though he is painted with the least detail, he is very, very difficult to ignore, much like the many truths in life we don’t want to face, that we keep stuffed away in the abyss of our minds. He stares directly at us almost to say, “I know what you did, so don’t even try denying it.” This is the voice of our conscience, the one that stares right back us in the mirror, if we only looked with enough honesty. This is not merely a painting, but a mirror into our own denial of Christ.
At the end of the day, every lie you tell others or yourself, separates you from the Way, the Truth, and the Light.
For if you try to bend the fabric of reality to your delusion, it’s bound to snap back in your face someday.
No matter how hard you try to live in denial.
It’s important to remember that the cock crowing was not a condemnation to hell, but rather, a call to receive God’s mercy through repentance.
When I look into this soldier’s eyes, he says to me, make a choice, while you still can. Or it’ll be made for you.
