Mexican Muralists

I have an extended history of giving lectures on Mexican History. For many years I have been entranced with its people, its terrain, its food, its music, its history (Aztecs, Mayans,) its leadership. But not its government.

But, above all; I have been enthralled by the history of its muralists. My favorites are: Orozco, Rivera and Siqueros.

They were all revolutionaries and socialists of the early 1900’s. Their paintings dominated the thinking of the Mexican people and the government. Most of the time they were in opposition to the latter. To compare it to the modern scene; one could say they did with their murals what Bernie Sanders did and is doing what he does with words.

Of Los Tres Grandes, my favorite is Jose Clemente Orozco. Many of his paintings are in a church in Guadalajara, Mexico. I have visited them and as always, was tremendously impressed.

A few years ago, I read where one of Orozco’s greatest paintings was given to Dartmouth College, in New Hampshire.

“The Revolutionary Christ” is hung in the Baker Library. It is the last panel that fascinated me, and still does. It was Bishop Garfield Bromley Oxnam’s description of the mural that prompted a hasty decision on my part. On an impetus, I called the Baker Library and asked for a copy of Orozco’s last panel. To my utter surprise, they sent me one.

The following words are a mixture of Oxnam’s views and my comments of what Bishop Oxnam said about the mural.

When he first saw the mural, he was shocked. “I thought Orozco had made a caricature of the Christ. Then suddenly its meaning gripped me.” As it did me when I first viewed it.

Oxnam had been invited to give the famous Lyman Beecher Lectures at Yale University. In his description of the Orozco mural, he said, “My first reaction was one of revulsion.” He felt that Orozco had committed blasphemy.

But as he gazed in concentration at the mural, its meaning became clear. As you look at the picture note the rich colors. The deep browns and the deeper reds of blood. Notice the “towering figure of Christ dominates all.”

And then Oxnam seems to elevate his skill in writing to a new level. “He stands with feet apart, flesh torn, triumphant. At His side is an ax, the handle grasped tightly by His right hand. In the background are temples and tabernacles overturned in ruins amid the spoils of war, as though some terrible earthquake had made scorn of the religions of man.”

He then exalts the Christ by picturing Him above the ruins. Stone and wood have been shattered. Then, as you look at the mural, notice that the ax has been used. To chop at the base of the tree. “The cross itself has been cut down. It lies beside the stump from which it has been severed and the Christ stands astride it.” Oxnam’s words are vivid. Such words as “severed” and “astride” are not meek, they are strong and vivid.

Then Oxnam give a penetrating question. “Has the author sought to ridicule the Cross? Was this sacred symbol of our faith to be the sport of a revolutionist?” Then, Oxnam explodes with a verbal explosion.

“Then I knew that a dead figure hanging from a cross is not the sign of my faith.”

Oxnam turns into a historian and describes the early disciples. He contends that Jesus alone on the cross would not have turned the deserters to an about-face. Leading crusades and becoming martyrs. The cross as well as His death would have scattered the disciples, and the death of the establishment of Christianity.

The level of Oxnam’s awareness is unbelievable. “Our Lord is not a poor broken figure hanging from the tree-hands imprisoned by cruel nails and feet held fast by spikes, eyes that do not see, and ears that do not hear, a tongue that is stilled, a body with spirit gone.”

However, Oxnam declares that He remains the triumphant Christ; living now and forever more. His vision even rises higher. “He lives, and lest the nails of fanaticism would make him prisoner to the cross, He lays the ax to the cross itself. It falls.”

The famous inscription, “This is the King of the Jews” is crushed beneath the cedar. Again, he says, “He lives.” His eyes see. “Beholding in every man a brother and seeing what each of us may become as a son of God.”

Oxnam continues his exaltation “His ears hear the cries of the oppressed, the moan of the sorrowful, the glad shouts of children at play. Above all, His hands and feet are free; healing and going the second mile. Even His voice speaks forth truths. “Enter thou into the joy of the Lord.”

Then, finally, Oxnam reaches a flamboyant conclusion. “Christ alive and free from an imprisoning cross before which many bow to worship but from which too few hear the words “Follow Me- how can He march, if He be nailed to a cross? -a living Christ, who having been lifted up, does draw all men, because of life’s mastery of death-this is the revolutionary Christ, whose message will be Jubilate.”

Finally, a few words about Bishop Garfield Bromley Oxnam. He was born on August 14, 1891 In Los Angeles, and died on March 12, 1963. He graduated from USC in 1913 and from the Boston University School of Theology in 1915-both of which are Methodist institutions.

Early on he became a dynamic voice for the Social Gospel, heralding the message of concern for the poor, the unlearned, the jobless and the sick. It became the message of Methodism. Not sterile, timid or weak, but a dynamic force. In 1936 he was elected Bishop in the Methodist Church.

Amen. Selah. So be it.