In a visually saturated world, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed and become desensitized to beauty. Visio Divina, Latin for “divine seeing,” encourages us to slow down and engage in visual contemplation, using art as a profound tool for connecting with the Divine.

A Guide to Visio Divina

Begin by making the sign of the cross and inviting the Holy Spirit to guide your contemplation. Spend a moment meditating on David by Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1623-24), a life-sized marble statue created during the Baroque period. Commissioned by Cardinal Borghese, this remarkable sculpture is found in the Borghese Gallery in Rome, Italy. Then, read 1 Samuel 17.

Enter In.

As a massive shadow covers the valley, the Israelite army is paralyzed by fear. The shadow belongs to a Philistine named Goliath of Gath. Someone must rise to challenge him, yet no one dares. After 40 days of impasse, David arrives at the battlefield to deliver provisions to his brothers. Taking in the scene, he feels an undeniable call.

David tells King Saul he will fight Goliath. Saul is hesitant because he sees David as just a shepherd boy; he is unaware that David is “the anointed one” (1 Sam. 16). David recounts how God protected him from a lion and bear while watching his flock and assures Saul that God will defend him again. Reluctantly, Saul agrees and offers David armor, which is refused. David loads five stones into his shepherd’s pouch and winds up his throw, ready to confront the giant.

This is where Bernini’s David comes into play, capturing the moment of combative action just before history unfolds. His body dramatically contorts and diagonally twists as he prepares to hurl the stone from his sling. His muscles are taut, and his veins protrude with tension. There is intensity on his face as he stares down his enemy, brows furrowed and lips pressed tightly together in concentration.

Bernini exquisitely captures the intensity and theatrical movement of this scene. Using this energetic bodily involvement, he transports David into our space and makes us feel a part of the story. Imagine standing in front of this statue… Art historian Dr. Steven Zucker describes how real David feels: “Some people have said that they don’t want to stand in front of the sculpture because it looks like that slingshot might hit them. … We forget that this is stone.”

Notice David’s garments—or lack thereof. His loosely placed loincloth will likely fall when he releases the stone, an intentional detail showing that while David is a hero, he is still only a human and vulnerable. David’s strength isn’t enough on his own; he must rely on God. His shepherd’s bag rests at his hip, implying he is prepared for a longer fight, while the armor he rejected lies scattered on the ground.

In 1 Sam. 17, David rejects the armor because he is not used to its weight, but his refusal is shocking for Saul and his army—and us! Saul even says what we’re all thinking: “You cannot go up against this Philistine and fight with him, for you are only a youth, while he has been a warrior from his youth” (1 Sam. 17:33). For David, however, there was no need for worry or armor. He had God’s protection—a spiritual shield—and didn’t need a cultural shield.

Conclusion

What is hope? To understand hope, we first need to understand faith and trust. Faith is “the theological virtue by which we believe in God and believe all that He has said and revealed to us” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1814). Trust, in turn, means to confidently rely on someone, knowing that promised commitments will be fulfilled. Father Mike Schmitz says that “the Christian virtue of hope is relational; [it is] … a trust that is extended into the future.” It is not a blind optimism but rather a confident knowledge that God will always be on our side.

David exemplifies this beautifully. The odds were stacked against him. He was just a young shepherd—not even old enough to go to war—yet, he persisted because of his deep trust and hope in God. Though he may not have been the strongest physically, David had the strength of unwavering faith and steadfast awareness of God’s presence. In this sense, he became the unlikely hero, a model of hope for us all.

As we enter the Jubilee year, we can look to David and ask for his intercession to be faithful Pilgrims of Hope. May his words become our own: “My soul, be at rest in God alone, from whom comes my hope. God alone is my rock and salvation, my fortress; I shall not fall” (Ps. 62:6-7).

Emma Cassani is the graphic designer behind The Catholic Telegraph. She is passionate about exploring the intersection between art and faith.  |  [email protected]

This article appeared in the December 2024 edition of The Catholic Telegraph Magazine. For your complimentary subscription, click here.