
Something not always immediately apparent when visiting churches like San Vitale in Ravenna is that the mosaics are usually organised to tell a particular theological story. What might seem at first glance like a series of decorative or merely historical images is, in fact, a carefully structured visual catechism, designed to reveal the Church’s deepest mysteries through symbolic and narrative art, and indeed to do what all iconography means to do; bring those realities into the room with you.
In San Vitale, built in the mid-6th century, that story is centred on the Eucharist and the theology of sacrifice, with the entire decorative program leading the viewer to contemplate the profound mystery of the Mass.
Walking into a church like San Vitale for the first time can be overwhelming. Your eyes are bombarded with a jumble of shimmering colours; gold, deep blues, and rich greens, punctuated by intricate figures that seem to hover in a world outside of time and space, an elevated realm of their own. The sheer scale and complexity of the mosaics leave little chance for the eye to rest. Every surface appears alive with meaning; vines and fruit and floral motifs, mountains and trees, animals and birds, rivers of paradise, processions of saints and angels, all converging towards the apse, where Christ reigns in eternal majesty. It’s a dazzling visual overload that can make it hard to see the larger narrative unfolding before you.


San Vitale is not merely a monument to Byzantine imperial presence in Italy; it is primarily a church, a sacred, reserved space where heaven and earth converge through the Eucharistic liturgy, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Consecrated in 547 under Bishop Maximian during the reign of Emperor Justinian, the church stands as a triumph of early Italo-Byzantine art, integrating imperial authority with Christian theology. The mosaics unfold a complex theological narrative about the nature of Christ’s kingship, the role of the Church, and the supreme act of worship; the sacrifice of Christ made manifest in the Eucharist.
In today’s post for paid members, we’re going to take a closer look at the meaning, the narrative, of the mosaics at San Vitale. As visually overwhelming as they are with their extraordinary beauty and complexity, looking at them with a theological eye shows us the ancient Christian story of sacrifice and redemption.
I’m very happy to be able to illustrate this post with my own photos and videos taken at San Vitale last week. If you think you’d enjoy more of this kind of first-person content, I hope you’ll consider subscribing to join us. There’s more to come, and every subscription makes it easier for me to improve our offerings.
At the Sacred Images Project we talk about Christian life, thought, history and culture through the lens of the first 1200 years of sacred art. The publication is supported by subscriptions, so apart from plugging my shop, there is no advertising or pop-ups. It’s my full time job, but it’s still not bringing a full time income, so I can’t yet provide all the things I want to and am planning for.
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I’m happy to offer as a print this little painting I did, in the Byzantine style, for a commission last year; the supplicant figure raising his arms in humble prayer, a visual meditation on the Psalm, Quam dilecta.
It’s in my shop as a wood panel print, but if you prefer we can have it done on different surfaces like museum-quality cotton paper, or canvas.
You can find it in my shop here:
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