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		So what are 
		they?
  On the left above is the ivory cover from the 
		Pericopes of Henry II, an illuminated manuscript dating from c 1002. On 
		the right is the lid of the sarcophagus of Mayan King K'inich Janaab 
		Pakal I, who died in 683. The manuscript was produced at the Abbey of 
		Reichenau, in southern Germany. The sarcophagus was discovered in 1952 
		at the Mayan city of Palenque, in Southern Mexico.  
		 
		
		The sarcophagus 
		lid.
  K'inich Janaab Pakal I was the king of the Mayan city-state of Palenque, located 
		now in Southern Mexico. His long reign lasted from 615 – 683. His tomb 
		was discovered in 1952.  
		  The complex iconography of the 
		lid of the sarcophagus has kept historians busy since it was discovered. 
		Pakal lies, infant-like, at the base of a stylised cruciform 
		tree. 
		Beneath him is the head of a serpent, sometimes interpreted as a skull. 
		Above the tree is a strange, supernatural bird. Around the top edge are 
		cosmological symbols of the sun, the moon, and stars; the celestial 
		realm.  
		The position of the king signifies resurrection 
		or rebirth, a return from the kingdom of the dead represented by the 
		gaping jaws of the snake. Pakal is shown as the maize god, the god of 
		the agricultural cycle; he has been resurrected as a divinity, 
		responsible for the cycle of death and renewal. The tree, bejewelled and 
		with writhing snakes, is bursting into life. 
  
		The pericopes cover.  
		 
		
		A pericope is nothing to do with 
		submarines! It is a gospel text specifically selected for a particular 
		service or feast day. The cover of these pericopes is one of the finest 
		examples of Carolingian ivory carving.  
		  
		The main element is the Crucifixion scene. 
		Christ is seen slumped on a roughly-hewn cross 
		with arms like cut tree branches. Whether He is represented here as 
		alive or dead is a matter for debate. 
		 He is 
		surrounded by figures familiar in 
		crucifixion 
		scenes: John, Stephaton, Longinus, the weeping women. The allegorical 
		figure of Ecclesia collects the blood of Christ in a chalice. The two 
		figures to the far right have led to much debate. Synagogia? 
		Personification of Jerusalem? No one is quite sure, though the disc one 
		of them holds is highly suggestive of a paten, another Eucharistic 
		symbol.  
		Above the Crucifixion scene are angels carrying 
		the instruments of the Passion. Above them are the symbols of the moon 
		and sun.  
		Below the cross is a writhing serpent, 
		personifying sin and death, and also the serpent in the Garden of Eden 
		which caused the downfall of the first Adam. Christ, the second Adam, 
		has vanquished it.  
		Below the Crucifixion scene are the women at the 
		tomb, representing the Resurrection. This is reinforced with scene below 
		showing the resurrection of saints, as described in the Gospel of 
		Matthew:    
		‘And the graves were opened; and many bodies of 
		the saints which slept arose, And came out of the graves after his 
		resurrection, and went into the holy city, and appeared unto many.’
		 (Chapter 
		27 v 52-53) 
		
		At the base of the ivory are three very 
		strange figures. A semi-naked man with horns sprawls at the left, 
		pouring water from a vessel. This is Oceanus, a personification of the 
		ocean. To the left a bare-breasted woman suckles a snake. This is Terra, 
		the personification of the land. The central figure is another 
		bare-breasted woman. It is not  clear what she represents, though 
		the best guess seems to be the temple. This theory is based on a 
		reference in a poem by the fifth-century poet Coelius Sedulius, familiar 
		to the Carolingians:  
		   ‘That marvellous temple, 
		filled with ancient religion, groaned like a sad foster-child and wept 
		for her own creator, as she beheld the roofs of the great temple fall. 
		When the temple veil rent she immediately showed her bare breast to all, 
		signifying that the secret things that were in were now to be revealed 
		to the Gentiles and all future people of faith.’ 
		A comparison. 
		
		Clearly, any hint of Mayan culture was 
		unknown in Europe in the Middle Ages, and the two lifestyles and belief 
		systems were totally different. The Mayans had many gods. And yet it is 
		intriguing how many elements the two images have in common. Both of them 
		relate the wider universe – the sun, the stars, the sea and the earth – 
		to the narrative. Both images show the snake as personifying death and 
		evil, and the tree as the embodiment of new life and fertility: the tree 
		of life that ‘blossomed again in the resurrection so as to become the 
		beauty of all’. (Bonaventure, 
		The Tree of Life.) Above all, the central message 
		of both images is the same – the resurrection of a human into a god to 
		bring about rebirth and renewal. 
		  
		Even here there are significant differences. As far as we know, Pakal 
		died a natural death, while Christ was sacrificed to bring that renewal 
		about. Of course, sacrifice was important in Mayan culture, and a bloody 
		business it was too. Let’s not forget, though, the importance of blood 
		in Christian theology; look again at Ecclesia in the pericope cover.  
		  
		So what conclusions can be drawn? What the two images bring to 
		the fore are those nagging archetypes that just won’t go away. However 
		distant and unrelated cultures are, that collective unconscious keeps 
		throwing up those symbols. Individual minds can then interpret them and 
		use them in their own distinct way.   
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