June was a busy month for me—and enjoyably included a 12-day
trip to Switzerland with its awe-inspiring natural beauty and its exceptionally
friendly and welcoming people. I visited
Switzerland once before, but that was over 45 years ago. Therefore, this was a trip that both revived old
memories and add new experiences.
When visiting a place again after many years, however, the
“new experiences” are not necessarily because the place has changed, but
because you have. If you have grown at
all over that time, then you have learned.
Your knowledge and interests have expanded, and your appreciation for
things has broadened. Your way of seeing
changes. As a 25-year-old, I was
impressed by Marc Chagall’s windows in Zürich’s Fraumünster; about to turn 70, my experience of the windows
was less intellectual, more contemplative.
Another Swiss church that engaged me was the Swiss Reformed
cathedral (or minster) in Bern. I was captivated
by the main portal which is said to be one of the most complete Late Gothic
sculpture collections in Europe. This collection represents the Last Judgment
when the wicked will be separated from the righteous. Depicting the Last Judgement over the main
portal of Gothic cathedrals was commonplace, intended to inspire awe and piety
in the faithful as visual reminder of the ultimate judgment and its
consequences. Usually, the Last Judgment displays Jesus Christ enthroned
in majesty and Michael the Archangel weighing souls, sending the righteous to
their reward and the wicked to their punishment. The west portal of Notre Dame in Paris features
such a Last Judgment tympanum. The west portal of Bourges Cathedral, another
typical example, also features the Last Judgment with Michael weighing souls.
The main portal of Bern’s Minster is remarkable in part
because it survived the church’s transformation from a Catholic church to a
Protestant one during the Reformation when the paintings and sculptures from
inside the church were all destroyed. But the Last Judgement depiction is also
remarkable for one of its atypical details.
As usual Jesus Christ is enthroned in majesty and overseeing the
judgement. Michael the Archangel is also
present; however, he stands below the action and is not involved in weighing
the souls. Instead standing between the
righteous and the wicked and conducting the separation is a woman holding a
sword and scales. The woman is Lady
Justice—also known as Justitia. The obvious
symbolism is that justice is being served in rewarding the righteous and damning
the wicked.
But Justitia appropriating Michael’s role also suggests that
justice is the delineator between righteousness and wickedness.
A short walk from the Bern Minster is another representation
of Lady Justice: Hans Gieng's 1543
Gerechtigkeitsbrunnen—Fountain
of Justice. Atop the fountain, Justitia
stands with her traditional attributes: the
sword of justice in her right hand and a balance in her left hand. Unlike the statue on the minster, however, Gieng’s
Justitia is blindfolded. The blindfold was
an innovation and thought to be the first such representation of Lady
Justice. Only later did the blindfold became
commonplace. Associated with the positive ideal of impartiality, fairness,
and equality before the law, the blindfold implies that true justice is done
without consideration of a person’s rank, power, wealth, or social standing.
In addition to his innovative blindfold, Gieng placed the heads
of four power figures at Lady Justice’s feet:
a pope, an emperor, a sultan, and a Schultheiss (the head of a
municipality akin to a mayor). They
represent the four forms of government according to the Renaissance humanism of
the time: theocracy (the pope), monarchy
(the emperor), autocracy (the sultan) and the republic (the Schultheiss). The four figures all have their eyes closed—generally
interpreted as an act of submission to Justitia.
In other words, justice trumps power.
