The Paintings of St. Timothy’s:

An In-Depth Exploration of the Symbolism and Art History of the Art that Makes our Space Holy

Ella McFerrin, Senior at UNC-Chapel Hill

Introduction:

The Church has long employed art as a form of prayer and a medium of meditation.

In early historical periods, up to and throughout the Medieval period, art was reserved for individuals who could afford to purchase and commission it. This usually meant that only monarchs or other stately individuals could use art in their prayer and devotion. A shift in this practice began with the Protestant Reformation. In the early sixteenth century, various reformers sought to challenge what were perceived as corrupt or misguided practices within the Catholic Church. In response, the Catholic Church launched the Counter-Reformation, a movement aimed at spiritual renewal and the restoration of congregational strength.

One significant reform in the Counter-Reformation was the removal of the rood screen—a barrier that had traditionally separated the nave from the sanctuary and obscured the congregation’s view of the altar. With greater visibility of sacred spaces, the Church began to commission art that was increasingly elaborate, emotionally expressive, and accessible. These works depicted Christ, the saints, and biblical narratives with heightened realism; these images of Christ, the saints, and biblical stories invited worshippers to enter more fully into the mysteries of the faith, making distant stories feel immediate and alive. Art became a bridge between heaven and earth, stirring devotion and strengthening belief.

As art became more visible within churches, appreciation for artistic skill deepened, and demand for religious imagery spread beyond the aristocracy. Artists were now more widely available, and more people were commissioning work, giving people of lower social status the ability to own Christian art for their own devotions. At the same time, some reformers such as John Calvin urged a turn toward simplicity, warning that art, music, and ornamentation could distract from the true focus on God. This call to minimalism left a lasting imprint, and even today, many churches do not commission art either because of these theological leanings or because of financial constraints.

Artwork and ornamentation in a church setting may seem distracting to some, but it can also be a companion in prayer. Art can be a powerful way to guide our prayer and enhance our worship as we visually perceive the scriptures we listen to and believe. At St. Timothy’s, our art is rich with symbolism and intentional detail, carefully designed to guide worship and invite reflection. The Triptych and the Stations of the Cross, painted by Maria Miteva, are not only original works of beauty but also tools of prayer—crafted to draw us into the presence of God and to help lift our hearts in worship.

A Note on “Copying”:

            The figures included in our artwork are intentionally drawn from well-recognized traditions of Christian art, linking St. Timothy’s to a broader heritage of faith and devotion. Our art does not merely “copy” that of old Northern Renaissance masters; it reinterprets it and expands upon their legacy. By incorporating recognizable motifs, our church situates itself within the long-standing history of Christianity while simultaneously contributing its own voice to that unfolding story.

            The argument about “copying and replicating” art is a well-recognized theme. Some scholars contend that the Romans only copied Greek art, making nothing original themselves. Such claims overlook the creative liberties the Romans employed: though they adopted familiar poses, gestures, and hairstyles, these elements were purposefully chosen to evoke particular associations that audiences of the time would immediately understand. This principle—the use of recognizable forms to communicate deeper meaning—resonates throughout art history. Renaissance masters such as Michelangelo drew heavily from Greek and Roman precedents, while French artists of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries continued to revisit and reinterpret classical forms thousands of years later

            In this light, the art of St. Timothy’s is not “unoriginal” nor is it an act of mere replication. Rather, it is an act of reverent participation in the visual language of the Church. By drawing inspiration from familiar works, our art fosters a sense of holiness, piety, and continuity with the past, while also contributing distinctive elements—such as depictions of our chapel and saints that embody the mission of St. Timothy’s. In doing so, our parish adds to the living tradition of Christian art, blending the recognizable with the particular, the historical with the contemporary.

The Triptych:

A triptych is a form of artwork—most often a painting—composed of three panels, traditionally hinged so that the outer sections can fold over the central image. Most commonly, triptychs are found in churches and are usually positioned behind the altar as a focal point for worship. A quick search might suggest that the folding mechanism serves a purely practical function, such as protecting the panels during transport. Yet within the context of Christian worship, the folding triptych carries a deeper liturgical significance. During penitential periods of the church calendar, such as Lent, the triptych is closed to cover the image of Jesus. This intentional absence heightens the worshipper’s sense of longing, directing attention to Christ’s suffering and deepening anticipation of the Resurrection celebrated at Easter. In this way, the physical structure of the triptych itself becomes a theological instrument, shaping devotion through its opening and closing.

At St. Timothy’s, our triptych has been designed to embody both tradition and parish identity. Its figures reflect the mission and ministry of our community, while its scale, vibrant colors, and craftsmanship draw the eye toward the altar. In doing so, the piece not only enhances the beauty of the sanctuary but also serves as a visual invitation to communion and a reminder of the worship, witness, and wisdom at the heart of our parish life.

The Left Panel:

            To the left of the Crucifixion is a panel depicting the Annunciation, the moment described in the Gospel of Luke when the Angel Gabriel proclaims to the Virgin Mary that she will conceive and bear the Son of God. The composition and palette closely recall Rogier van der Weyden’s Annunciation (Fig. 1), reflecting the influence of Northern Renaissance artistry while integrating symbols and details unique to our setting.

Among the symbolic elements within the panel are a lily and a peacock. The lily, long associated with the Virgin Mary, signifies purity and the mystery of the Immaculate Conception. The peacock, by contrast, points forward to Christ’s Resurrection. Ancient Greek belief held that peacock flesh never decayed, even after death; this quality was later adopted as a Christian symbol of Jesus’ victory over death and his eternal life.

In the background, there is a building above the heads of Mary and the Angel Gabriel. This is St Martin’s Church in Canterbury, a structure that is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is recognized as the oldest church in continuous use within the English-speaking world. Dating back to 597, during the Roman presence in Britain, St. Martin’s stands as a visible reminder of the origins of English Christianity—the birthplace of the faith in Anglo-Saxon England and the foundation upon which the Episcopal tradition later developed.

Mary herself is shown kneeling at a prie-dieu (pronounced pray-do), a prayer desk used in both private devotion and public worship. Here, the detail emphasizes Mary’s steadfast faith and humility. The engravings on the prie-dieu depict Adam and Eve, introducing the concept of typology. Typology is the theological idea stating that the life of Jesus is prefigured throughout the Old Testament; therefore, there are a variety of parallels that we can draw between the Old and New Testaments. In this case, Eve’s disobedience, which led to humanity’s fall, is set in contrast to Mary’s obedience, which brought forth the Savior. Likewise, just as Adam is understood as the first man whose sin brought death, Christ is recognized as the “New Adam,” whose obedience brings redemption.

Finally, the flooring of the scene mirrors the marble floor of our sanctuary, creating a deliberate connection between the painted panel and the worship space of the church itself. The colors of the pattern—green and burnt orange—evoke the imagery of Revelation 4:3, where John describes the One seated on the throne as having the appearance of jasper and sardius. Through these hues, the floor becomes a subtle yet powerful reminder of Christ’s continual presence among his people.

The Right Panel:

            To the right of the Crucifixion is the Presentation, the moment when the infant Jesus is brought to the Temple and proclaimed by Simeon as the long-awaited Messiah. Our depiction of the Presentation closely resembles that of Rogier van der Weyden’s The Presentation at the Temple (Fig. 2). In accordance with laws outlined by Moses, Mary and Joseph present Jesus to the temple, accompanied by a customary offering. For wealthier families, this sacrifice would have been a lamb; for those of more modest means, turtledoves or pigeons were acceptable. The basket of birds in the scene, though it may at first seem out of place, underscores the humility of the Holy Family and their obedience to the law.

The older man who is receiving Jesus is Simeon, and the older lady behind him is Anna. Both advanced in years, they represent generations of devout hope, their age emphasizing how long they had awaited the fulfillment of God’s promise. Joseph and Mary are handing Jesus to Simeon and Anna. In this panel, Joseph’s age is also visibly accentuated, aligning with traditions that portray him as significantly older than Mary. Behind them stands a woman in green, whose identity remains uncertain but who is likely intended as a servant of the Temple.

The architectural background features St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, our parish’s “parent church.” Its inclusion pays homage to the community from which St. Timothy’s was founded, acknowledging its role in shaping our congregation’s spiritual life. Alongside this structure, two additional elements enrich the theological symbolism of the panel: a pillar and a baldachin.

The pillar prefigures Christ’s Passion, referencing the flagellation when Jesus was bound and scourged. It belongs to a larger collection of devotional motifs known as the Arma Christi or the “weapons of Christ,” which include the instruments of his suffering, such as the ladder, hammer and nails, rooster, dice, whip, spear, and sponge. Though the infant Christ appears fragile in the Presentation, the pillar reminds us that his life was always oriented toward sacrifice, becoming the pathway to humanity’s salvation.

The baldachin, or “cloth of honor,” adds another layer of meaning. Historically, such canopies were reserved for royalty, draped above thrones to signify status and authority. In the early thirteenth century, artists increasingly incorporated contemporary features—clothing, architecture, and ceremonial objects—into biblical scenes. Here, the baldachin emphasizes the dignity of Christ and draws the viewer’s gaze directly to the divine presence of the child. Note how the fabric curtains behind our altar are rendered from the same fabric as the baldachin in this scene.

Through these symbols, the Presentation panel weaves together biblical narrative, theological reflection, and the particular identity of our parish—reminding us that even in his infancy, Christ was both fulfillment of ancient prophecy and the source of eternal grace.

The Center Panel:

This panel is arguably the most important and contains the most symbols. The center panel depicts the scene of the Crucifixion, when Jesus dies for the sins of mankind, providing Christians with a path to salvation. This scene, deeply influenced by Rogier van der Weyden’s Crucifixion Triptych (Fig. 3), is rich with symbolism, weaving together biblical narrative, parish identity, and the devotional mission of St. Timothy’s.

In the background, the city of Winston Salem is integrated into the fifteenth-century setting. This practice of embedding one’s home city or village within sacred imagery was common in the period and serves here to make the Crucifixion immediate and personal. The dome in the background is meant to mimic the Temple of Solomon, which is in Jerusalem, and is the location of the veil that rips when Jesus dies. Therefore, we, the audience, are meant to view Golgotha from our hometown. By including the Reynolds’ Tower in the landscape, our city has become a place for the holy observance of the death of Jesus.

 The upward-floating linen around Christ, seemingly defying gravity, is not merely decorative; it signals that this is a transcendent event. The angels surrounding Jesus also indicate the divinity of the scene, setting it apart from Earth.

At the foot of the cross, Mary, the Mother of Jesus, is depicted in profound sorrow. Her sagging posture, downcast expression, and weakened hand convey grief with striking realism. Another easily overlooked detail is Mary’s back facing towards the viewer. By doing this, Mary is now a surrogate through whom we can insert ourselves. By inserting oneself, the viewer can be at Golgotha, having the ability to touch the blood dripping from Jesus’s foot. This is a visual echo of how we encounter Jesus’ blood through the Eucharist. When we receive the Eucharist, we, like Mary, are at the foot of the cross.

To Mary’s left stands St. John the Apostle, “the disciple whom Jesus loved,” clothed in red to signify both his martyrdom and sacrifice. His position beside Mary recalls Jesus’ words from the cross: “Woman, behold your son” and “Behold your mother.”

To the left of John is a bishop, identified by his miter (hat) and crozier (staff), holding the original St. Timothy’s Chapel. By holding the chapel, the audience is reminded of the foundation of St. Timothy’s and of the faith which has upheld this community for generations. His vestments, modeled on those in Jan van Eyck’s Virgin and Child with Canon van der Paele (Fig. 4), include embroidered images of Saints Peter and Paul. By conferring their symbolism upon the bishop, the panel underscores the dual roles of the Church. Peter symbolizes the ecclesial authority and responsibilities within the church; Paul symbolizes evangelism and theological insight.

On the opposite side of the cross appears Mary Magdalene, a traditional figure in Crucifixion imagery. Witness to both the death and resurrection of Christ, she is a powerful symbol of faith and Jesus’ forgiveness. Mary Magdalene’s garb echoes the woman at the foot of the cross in van der Weyden’s Crucifixion. The woman in his painting is not Mary Magdalene, but rather the commissioner of the painting; many times, the individuals who paid for the artwork would ask for their likeness to be included as a symbol of perpetual devotion and prayer.  

The figure in blue behind Mary Magdalene is St. Joseph of Arimathea, who assumed responsibility for the burial of Jesus after his death and buried Jesus in his own tomb. His garb indicates his wealth and his ability to provide a property burial, with expensive linens and oils, for Our Lord. His role in the triptych is specific to the mission of St. Timothy’s. One cornerstone of the witness of our church is the Society of Saint Joseph of Arimathea, which provides a dignified burial to babies who have died. Our church has buried over 1,000 babies, providing many families with the resources to bury their child. By including him in our triptych, he is an intercessor for the work of our church, directly bringing our society closer to Jesus and being another form of devotional connection to the Crucifixion.

The figure in brown on the far right is Saint Joseph Labre (pronounced Luh-bray), the patron saint of the homeless. His garb is indicative of the humble lifestyle he embraced, living simply and frequently begging for himself. St. Timothy’s provides shelter between the months of December and March each year to women experiencing homelessness.  Saint Joseph Labre is included for the same reason as Saint Joseph of Arimathea, to provide a connection between Jesus and the mission of our church. As an intercessor, he kneels beside Christ on behalf of the Our Lady of Salem Shelter for Women, embodying our mission of witness and service.

The triptych is meant to be an aid in prayer; it allows you to have a visual image of which to see the Crucifixion, and it helps you to imagine what the moment was like for Mary, Christ, and Saint John. It also helps to put you at Golgotha, to experience the moment first-hand, and recognize that you experience that moment each time you receive the Eucharist.

The Stations of the Cross

            The Stations of the Cross are a devotional series of fourteen images that trace the Passion of Christ. Traditionally arranged around the walls of a church, they invite participants to move from station to station, reenacting in prayer the pilgrimage of early Christians who visited the sacred sites in Jerusalem where these events occurred. This meditative practice is especially central during the season of Lent and is most often observed on Fridays.

            Many depictions of the Stations of the Cross, including those at St. Timothy’s, are conceived as a series painting—a unified set of images bound together by palette, theme, and technique, unmistakably the work of a single artist. This cohesion not only situates the viewer within a consistent visual and theological landscape but also invites careful attention to subtle variations across the sequence. Even the smallest changes in the background are meant to be noticed.

The most significant unifying element is the continuous pathway that threads through the panels. This road symbolizes both the literal journey Christ endured to Golgotha and the spiritual journey undertaken by Christians as they pray the Stations. At times, the path dominates the composition, guiding the eye forward in anticipation of what lies ahead. Yet in certain moments, such as Station XIII, the path disappears. Its absence is deliberate: by concealing the way forward, the artist compels us to linger on the immediacy and gravity of Christ’s death.

Station I: Jesus is Condemned to Death

The first station depicts Christ’s unjust sentencing under Pontius Pilate. Though Pilate publicly declared that he found no guilt in Jesus, he nevertheless yielded to the demands of the crowd and condemned Him to death. Several visual details enrich the scene with symbolic depth. The reappearance of the pillar, one of the Arma Christi (the “weapons of Christ”), foreshadows the scourging that will soon follow. Beneath the arch in the background, two figures may represent Judas receiving his thirty pieces of silver—an image of betrayal that echoes Pilate’s own abdication of justice. Another subtle motif is the figure in yellow beside Pilate, who sits robed in orange upon the judgment seat. This man holds a blue bag, a symbol of bribery and Pilate’s compromised decision.

Even the throne itself carries moral commentary. Flanking it are two oval emblems: on the left, Hercules and Deianira, a mythological tale of betrayal and injustice; on the right, Apollo and Marsyas, a story that warns against hubris and pride. Together, these emblems reinforce the themes of treachery, false judgment, and the importance of humility.

            This specific station takes inspiration from The Judgement of Cambyses by Gerard David (Figure 5). The original painting describes the story of King Cambyses, judging Sisamnes, a corrupt royal judge. Sisamnes had, among other things, allowed himself to be bribed to produce an untrue verdict. This could have been the inspiration painting because Pontius Pilate seemingly does the same thing; Judas is also bribed to produce Jesus to the Pharisees. The people in this painting are depicted in clothing that is representative of the time period of the original painting, which is the late 15thcentury. This technique is known as “actualization” and is an effort by the artist to give relevance to the old 6th-century story. Likewise, the background architecture situates the scene in Bruges, where David’s original painting is preserved, again linking sacred history with the 15th-century world.

Station II: Jesus Carries His Cross

            The second station portrays Jesus taking up His cross and beginning the journey to Golgotha. This moment embodies Christ’s acceptance of His redemptive mission and His willingness to bear the burden of humanity’s sin. The cityscape in the background mirrors that of the central Crucifixion panel in the triptych. Its architecture, reminiscent of Jerusalem, alludes especially to the Temple of Solomon—the site of the veil that was torn at the moment of Christ’s death. The women are most likely the Virgin Mary and Mary Magdalene, the man behind Jesus is from the crowd, and the other men are members of the Roman army escorting Him to His execution.

Station III: Jesus Falls the First Time

This station portrays Christ collapsing beneath the weight of the cross for the first time. The image reveals His full humanity, emphasizing not only His exhaustion and physical weakness but also His shared experience of human suffering. Surrounding Him are Roman soldiers, along with figures from the crowd, one man and one woman.

Station IV: Jesus Meets His Afflicted Mother

In this station, Jesus encounters His mother along the way to Golgotha. The scene captures the profound sorrow and resilience of Mary, whose steadfast presence demonstrates both her maternal love and her strength in the face of agony. Within the composition are two subtle but powerful symbols of the Arma Christi. Behind Jesus, a man in green carries at his belt the hammer and nails that will pierce Christ’s body on the cross. In the background, a Roman soldier raises a trumpet, another emblem of mockery: the instrument that heralded the arrival of royalty is here employed to deride the true King. These details remind the viewer that Christ endured not only physical torment but also humiliation and scorn.

Station V: Simon of Cyrene Helps Carry the Cross

            In this station, Simon of Cyrene, a bystander in the crowd, is forced by Roman soldiers to help Jesus carry the cross. This is important because it again features Jesus’ humanity, but it is also a reminder that discipleship may involve inconvenience, sacrifice, and compassion. Simon of Cyrene is most likely depicted in red because the color frequently symbolizes sacrifice. The same Roman soldier seen in earlier stations appears again, reinforcing the narrative continuity; he is surrounded by other crowd members.  

Station VI: Veronica Wipes the Face of Jesus

In this station, the kneeling woman clothed in blue is identified as Saint Veronica. According to tradition, she steps out from the crowd to offer Christ a cloth to wipe His blood- and sweat-stained face. In a miraculous act of grace, His image is imprinted upon the veil. While Simon of Cyrene demonstrates discipleship through duty, Veronica represents courage, mercy, and love freely given, even at personal risk. Within the scene, the continuity of figures reinforces the unfolding narrative: Simon continues to shoulder part of the cross, Roman soldiers drive the procession forward, the crowd looks on, and the man in green once more appears, bearing the instruments of the Arma Christi.

Station VII: Jesus Falls the Second Time

Here, Jesus collapses under the weight of the cross for the second time. The soldiers force Him up once again, pushing Him toward Golgotha. Each fall demonstrates His exhaustion, weakness, and the immense physical toll of the journey. Yet each time, He rises again and continues, determined to complete the mission of salvation. This station reminds us that Christ, through His repeated falls, fully identifies with human struggle. Again, Simon of Cyrene is depicted helping to carry the cross, and the same Roman soldier is present. There are a variety of bystanders from the crowd, with a variety of emotions, ranging from indifference to sorrowful, representing the mixed reactions of humanity to Christ’s suffering.

Station VIII: Jesus Meets the Women of Jerusalem

As Jesus continues His journey to Calvary, bearing the heavy cross and having already fallen twice, He encounters a group of women along the road. These are the “Daughters of Jerusalem” mentioned in Luke 23:27-28. The Gospel tells us that many people followed Jesus, mourning and lamenting Him. Among them were women who wept loudly. Instead of accepting their pity, Jesus turns to them and says: “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children.” These women represent compassion and empathy, yet their tears are incomplete without true conversion; Jesus redirects their sorrow toward repentance. The other figures provide continuity within the series of paintings; there is still Simon of Cyrene, the Roman soldier, the man in green, and other people from the crowd.

Station IX: Jesus Falls the Third Time

            In this station, Jesus collapses under the weight of the cross for the third and final time. It is interesting to compare this station to Stations Three and Seven, his earlier falls; each fall brings Him lower. Here, he looks utterly defeated, almost seated on the ground. Simon of Cyrene assumes a visibly active role in holding the back of the cross; there is even another bystander, clothed in purple, who steps forward to lend additional support. In the background, a figure holds a ladder, an object that is part of the Arma Christi. Two soldiers are present; one is the soldier seen throughout the series previously. The other, fully armored soldier is notably modeled after Saint George in the Virgin and Child with Van der Peale (Fig. 4).

Station X: Jesus is Stripped of His Garments

            Here, Jesus is being stripped of His garments in preparation for crucifixion. As recorded in the Gospel of John, Chapter 19, verse 23, the soldiers divided His clothing among them and cast lots for this tunic, thereby fulfilling the Scripture. The scene also includes surrounding figures: bystanders, Simon of Cyrene is still present, and a Roman soldier actively removing Christ’s robe.

Station XI: Jesus is Nailed to the Cross

            At the eleventh station, Jesus is laid on the cross and nailed to it by the Roman soldiers. Here, there are soldiers driving nails into his feet and hands, recalling the Gospel accounts (Luke 24:39-40 and John 20:25). In the background, a group of women is shown in visible mourning, while to Jesus’ left, several soldiers appear engaged in discussion. One of the mourning women is modelled after a woman in van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross (Fig. 6). The composition also reflects a common medieval convention: individuals on Jesus’ left symbolize evil, and individuals on his right symbolize good. One example of this principle that is frequently seen is in The Crucifixion by von Tübingen the repentant thief and a group of saints are on his right, while the thief who rebukes Jesus and the Roman soldiers are on his left (Fig. 7).

Station XII: Jesus Dies on the Cross

In this station, Christ has been crucified and has died. The Gospels recount that, at this moment, the earth trembled, the temple veil was torn in two, and the sky darkened. Echoing the imagery of the central panel of the triptych, the dome in the far right of the background symbolizes the temple where the veil was rent. A subtle but notable visual shift occurs here as well: the colors are rendered with greater depth and intensity. The darkened sky, in particular, emphasizes the biblical account of the heavens dimming at the moment of Christ’s death (Matthew 27:45).

The man supporting the woman in blue is Saint John the Apostle, while the woman herself is the Virgin Mary. The figure in red is likely Mary Magdalene, accompanied by two additional mourners. The composition draws inspiration from both Rogier van der Weyden’s Crucifixion (Fig. 3) and Descent from the Cross (Fig. 6), ultimately culminating in a form that most closely parallels Fig. 8, The Crucifixion by an unknown artist. This progression reflects the principle of “copying and replication,” wherein artists reinterpreted established motifs to craft new but recognizable devotional imagery.

            Another detail is the woman with red sleeves and a purple skirt, whose arms are raised in an unusual posture. This pose is symbolic, referencing the archers’ guild that commissioned van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross. Her gesture deliberately evokes the shape of a drawn bow, embedding the patron’s identity within the sacred narrative.

Station XIII: Jesus is Taken Down from the Cross

            In this station, Christ is reverently taken down from the cross, a scene traditionally referred to as the Deposition. The figures closely parallel those in Rogier van der Weyden’s Descent from the Cross (Fig. 6). Both Jesus and the Virgin Mary adopt poses that echo the form of a crossbow, a deliberate reference to the archers’ guild that commissioned van der Weyden’s painting. Yet their mirrored postures also carry profound theological weight: just as Christ suffers physically in His Passion, Mary suffers spiritually through her maternal bond, embodying sorrow. Her grief here is at once visceral and theologically charged.

Mary Magdalene is shown supporting the Virgin Mary, while the Apostle John, clothed in red, steadies the feet of Christ. Joseph of Arimathea, dressed in costly garments, supports Christ’s body, and is assisted by a figure in white who aids in lowering Him from the ladder.

At the Apostle John’s feet lies a skull, a common motif in depictions of both the Crucifixion and the Deposition. This skull symbolizes Adam, and recalls the name of Golgotha, meaning “the place of the skull.” This symbol emphasizes the typological relationship between Adam and Christ: where Adam represents the entry of sin into the world, Christ, through His death, brings redemption, washing away that sin.

Station XIV: Jesus is Laid in the Tomb

            In this final station, Christ is laid in the tomb provided by Saint Joseph of Arimathea. The composition closely parallels the Deposition in the Sepulcher/ Lamentation of Christ by van der Weyden (Fig. 9). The man clothed in red, consistent with many religious depictions, is identified as Saint John the Apostle. The Virgin Mary appears in her customary blue garments, while the woman with uncovered hair is Mary Magdalene, an iconographic detail frequently used to distinguish her.

The figure in green is Nicodemus, the Pharisee who, according to the Gospel of John, brought costly myrrh and aloes to prepare Jesus’ body for burial. These burial ointments are represented in the painting by the ornamental containers placed in the lower corners. The other elder male figure, wearing red tights, is Saint Joseph of Arimathea, the wealthy disciple who boldly requested Jesus’ body from Pilate and donated his own tomb for the burial.