Journey of Passion

  • The Journey of Passion
    Illustrations for "Spirit and Horror in the Christian Holy Week"
  • This is a series of illustrations for an allegory by David A. Sylvester about reconciling the hateful crimes that have been committed in the name of Christianity throughout history with the spirit of love and compassion which the Bible itself promotes.  Sylvester is a Roman Catholic with a deep interest in Judaism, who also attends synagogue.
  • "The Palm Sunday story has become such a commonplace of the culture that it hardly seems real any more.  It's the story with a classic happy ending.  Or is it?  Perhaps we are so familiar with it that we no longer understand it."
  • "Like the Catholic Church itself, our parish is a world parish; members speak more than forty languages and come from even more countries. One group of African women, decked out with brilliant headscarves and boubou dresses, stood like matrons in the midst of a swirl of children, hugging and nodding and laughing. The youngest children ran with excitement between their fathers’ legs, chasing each other with the sacred fronds like flyswatters until an adult caught them by the arm and made them look down the road for the sign that the priest was arriving and the Mass would begin."
  • “O Great Healer and Prophet!” sobbed a woman covering her misshapen face with her hands. “What was my sin that I should be born like this and forbidden to enter the city or temple? Heal me for I am dying of loneliness!”
  • "Those on foot were running, panting, sweating, leaning against walls in the side streets to catch their breath and then run again. No one was looking back to see that wildfires had broken out in the fields along the roadway where the priests had built their tents and where the armies had trampled the underbrush."
  • "In the city, people slammed and bolted their doors against the newcomers with foreign accents who were begging for someone to take them in. When no door opened, the newcomers kept running, hoping to reach a farther, friendlier city."
  • I fell backward into the abyss within myself, tumbling toward this place of pressure, this hum and tremble of an infinitely gentle, infinitely suffering thing.