URC Daily Devotion for Saturday 16 May 2026 Scripture and Faith 6
Reflection
It wasn’t unusual for the refectory of a convent or monastery to be adorned with a depiction of Christ eating with his disciples. But the one created for the Dominican nuns at Santa Caterina di Cafaggio in Florence was unique. Theirs was created by a self-taught nun. Which makes it the first known large-scale Last Supper painted by a woman.
Pulisena Margherita Nelli was born into a rich Florentine family. Aged 14, she became a Dominican nun, taking the name Suor (Sister) Plautilla. Encouraged to paint as an act of devotion, Plautilla’s skill quickly saw her work recognised for the emotion and personality of her figures. Since fresco was seen as only suitable for male artists, she responded to the commission at Santa Caterina as she knew best; oils on a vast wall of canvas 23 feet long. She was aided by other nuns with whom she had created a school of painting.
“And when they had taken their places and were eating, Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me.’ They began to be distressed and to say to him one after another, ‘Surely, not I?” (Mark 14: 18-19).
Plautilla created a tableau for the community to dwell upon as they shared their own meals. We are in the aftermath of Christ’s words. Silent shock ripples around the table and across faces. One disciple, eyes closed, leans in as Jesus cradles his head. Another, the only one without a halo, sits alone on our side of the table. Judas reaches for the bread Jesus offers whilst, out of sight, he clutches his reward of thirty silver pieces.
The events of the gospel are brought forward into the daily routine of the nuns. Three Chinese bowls are on the table, a rare luxury in Florence at the time. They may well have been donated to the convent by wealthy patrons. This art seeks to bridge time and place; Jerusalem’s long-gone upper room infiltrating a Florentine convent dinner. And today, in this art as in our worship, similar things unfold.
Prayer
Jesus, hear my confession.
In sadness, I remember ways
I may have placed myself
on the wrong side of your table:
clutching what little power I have
such that your power is challenged,
sharing with you
and yet stubbornly holding back
some measure of devotion,
being part of your community whilst judging others,
taking your love and grace for granted.
Jesus, forgive me.
Let me start again.
Amen.