
Here is a little more about Christianity and the arts. This second chapter of Walking on Water is less introduction and more about depth and discipline and finding God in surprising places.
Basically there can be no categories such as "religious" art and "secular" art, because all true art is incarnational and therefore "religious."I think we could chew on that one for a bit.
L'Engle goes on to speak about proclaimed athiests who are really disillusioned faithful proclaiming God through their great skill and tallents. Their desire to proclaim a loving God, to deny the perceieved cruelty of the institutionalized God, comes to the fore as they witness through their creativity. Then she says that those little figurines that one finds in religious bookstores are not true art...and are therfore secular. It is an interesting chain of thought, though I think her conversation borders too much on the realm of taste and not faith.
For her, however, it is a question of suffering. Does art incarnate all of life, including suffering? "The son of God suffered unto death, not that men might not suffer, but that their sufferings might be like his." This is a George MacDonald quote that L'Engle leans upon. Disillusionment, struggle, humor...a depth of experience that suggests moments of chosing that shape life and love and our engagement with the world all make for religious art. All religious art suggests choice and struggle.
But to serve any discipline of art, be it to chip a David out of an unweildy piece of marble, to take oils and put a clown on canvas, to write a drama about a young man who kills his father and marries his mother and suffers for these actions, to hear a melody and set notes down for a string quartet, is to affirm meaning, despite all the ambiguities and tragedies and misunderstandings which surround us.L'Engle also writes about religious icons, but that will be for another post. Still, let me share this because it speaks to some of my struggle of using music in my pastoral ministry at the hospital.Aeschylus writes, "In our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God."
Art...music...confirms the compexities of life. It points to something beyond the composer or the performer. Music used in a pastoral setting may simply illuminate (name?) the pain of the moment, and in that illumination there may be healing. "Sometimes I feel like a motherless child" may be a deep prayer that has nothing to do with my singing ability, my skill in choosing the appropriate song at the appropriate time or my relationship with the patient. Or does it? Certainly the relationship is central. To incarnate the presense of God, to get out of the way so that God may be manifested in my relationship with the patient as revealed in music is absolutely the point of this "performance." Without relationship, incarnation is impossible. Without the incarnation, all relationship is impossible.Icons are painted with firm discipline, much prayer, and anonymity. In this way the iconographer is enabled to get out of the way, to listen, to serve the work.
I am still not certain where skill comes into the equation. I do not think that my having a good voice and some skill has a lot to do with whether or not my use of music would be pastoral. A poor singer can enter into the suffering of a patient and lead them out of suffering or allow them to assign greater meaning to their suffering. Their skill matters not. It is the compassion that matters.
Posted by tripp at October 25, 2004 06:20 AM"It is the compassion that matters," you note, and this I hold primary, as well. Yet, I can't say that "skill matters not." May not the skills we have-- in music, in art, however they manifest-- allow the compassion to work deeper? Help to hear, as some would say, the words behind the music?
Posted by: Jane Ellen at October 25, 2004 08:15 AMOkay. The Scripture says, "If you bless your neighbor loudly early in the morning, he will consider it a curse." Proverbs something-or-other. I think, in the same vein, it is safe to say that if one cannot sing, then barring extreme situations one is not called to sing. My priest never ever ever ever sings the liturgy -- because we ALL know that is NOT her gifting!! So, you *should* hone and sharpen your skills.
Who was chosen to build God's temple in Israel? Craftswomen and -men of surpassing skill and vision. They were so good that their very names are set down -- in Scripture.
Can God use busted-up vessels? Well, obviously, because God keeps using us! Does God hope that we stay busted-up? Um. No. That would be *stupid.*
Study to show yourself approved. Warm up your voice, so you don't injure the tools God has given you. Learn to read music, that you may better share the Word in song. Etc. For sheer joy, do these things, and to make yourself available to opportunities that come your way.
Is it pastoral to sit in on a jam and bless some good ol' boy secular musicians with your excellent contributions? You bet it is. Jesus would do it.
Posted by: kate at October 25, 2004 10:00 AMThere seems to be a confussion in L'Engle's presentation between a general principle of incarnation and the incarnation of the Word, a particular event that has universal consequences. I think protestants often confuse these two. The general principle of incarnation is not particularly religious or sacred per se. It is simply what happens with a highly evolved organism, the Human, who has these things called thoughts etc, that are given form. Now this might be spiritual(in the current vague meaning), but when the Orthodox speak of incarnation being the basis of Iconography they are not speaking of this. They are speaking of the incarnation of the Word which made the invisible God visible to us. Matter becomes sacred because of this, not because it is created. Without the incarnation of the Word Iconography is a theological impossibility.
Just because in my own personal painting I incarnate states of being or suffering or psychological states, by giving form and color to them, doesn't make it sacred or religious, by giving form and color to them. Though, I do believe that important truths that could be called religious or spiritual may be drawn from my paintings, these paintings are not religious or sacred. I paint Icons because I know there is a difference between an Icon and a Rohtko peice. And I adore Rothko, find his work deeply moving at times even religious. But in the end all other art is simply the effort of the artist to give expression and form to something formless. It may or may not witness to God and that is fine. I don't need to valorize art by saying it all speaks of God. There is art that I find very powerful even beautiful (I am thinking of Gieger sp?) but is only about God in the most oblique way at best.
I think that to some degree you are right, Kate. But the professionalizing of art is a complicating factor. Am I supposed to only allow Bach to be a church musician? He was a genius, but he is not a lone voice. My skill and talent is dwarfed by comparison. And, perhaps, by comparison, my talent dwarfs that of others. But, within reason, it is really not a question of musicianship. Instead it is spiritual discipline of getting out of the way and allowing God to speak that makes a difference. One may be Rachmaninoff, but if ya can't get out of the way and allow God in, then no matter how grand the Vespers it is vanity.
At least this has been my experience. Sometimes, even when I know the performance was awful, someone will come to me afterward and say that they were deeply moved and the perceived God's love for them in the performance. Never underestimate the power of the hearer of music. Wow.
Larry, how is something obliquely about God? Can you open up that thinking for me?
Posted by: AngloBaptist at October 25, 2004 11:44 AMLarry, I agree with you. I found the same weakness (conflating religion with meaning) in the L'Engle quote and summary.
Tripp, I will answer your email this evening, but for now: what exactly are you worried about, vis-a-vis singing as a part of your ministry?
Posted by: Megan at October 25, 2004 01:12 PMAll I meant there was that incarnating a truth wihtout referencign God still can show something about God. Take H.R.Giger as an example, his work is the incarnation of evil in a very real and beatiful sense. (this is my interpretation) yet, it also shows the horor of what Gieger is representing a world without God, a pure materialistic humanism in which there is only flesh and technology without any reason to do or act one way or another. Giger never names God nor does his art manifest God, and yet in God's absence it testifies to a truth : the world with out God is a horific place. That is the beauty of Giger, yet I know he is hardly aware of the truth and beauty of his work(based on interviews of his I have read).
Posted by: Larry at October 25, 2004 01:26 PMMegan Thankyou. You clarified my point. Yes there seems to be a conflaiton of meaning with religion. There are meaningful things that are not necesarily spiritual or religious.
Though, I think I understand and agree with the impluse that makes L'Engle make the conflation: that is to name the ultimate source of all meaning, which is God. (this impulse is admitedly an orhtodox Christian impulse)
And a matter of opinion, for anyone who's outside that circle.
So let's say L'Engle sees a play I direct. *She* may find something about God in it, and *she* may find it incarnational in that respect. But if *I* didn't intend it that way, can one characterize the art itself as being incarnational?
I'd say No. In that case, incarnationality is in the eye/ear/belief system of the beholder.
If, on the other hand, I had intended the work to deliver an incarnational message, then incarnationality would be in the work itself (to the degree that my skill and passion could deliver it).
So, sometimes incarnationality is in the art, and sometimes it's just in the viewer's experience.
Posted by: Megan at October 25, 2004 01:57 PMWell I am having difficulty here and it has to do with how we use incarnation. I would agree with L'engle that all art is incarnational, but would argue she is not making a religious point by saying so. Giger is incarnating ie. giving form and color, "flesh" if you will, to ideas and a psychology, but it does not speak to the reality of the Incarnation of the Word in Jesus of Nazareth. Since there is only at best an oblique (and interpretive) relationship betwen the Incarnaiton, and Giger's incarnation of an idea or making appear the form of a world without God, it is an instance of the human principle of incarnation but does not anounce the miracle of the Incarnation. Thus it does not sacralize mater and the physical.
Posted by: Larry at October 25, 2004 02:14 PMI thought that you very well might be, but since L'Engle's use of "incarnation" was conflated I wanted to be sure I was reading you with the appropriate fine distincitions.
Also, I have found in our discussion here an interesting angle to probe various appraoches to thinking about "incarnation": is the appraoch simply speaking of a generalized and not necesarily religious experience or is it referencing a drawing of conclusions from a particular theological and narative event in history where God became human and embodied.
Given the context of this discussion, I'd say you're safe in assuming the latter. ;-)
Posted by: Megan at October 25, 2004 02:50 PMI think L'Engle is treading a fine line in regards to Christian art and the incarnation. In my reading of her, I see that she means all things point to Christ if they are True. She is quite clear that teh Christian viewpoint is the only viewpoint and the Truth of the Created Order.
Now, having said that, she is also open to voices of other traditions with the logic of "I do not know where God is not." So, if the Dali Lama has something to say, ya best listen in case God is speaking there.
So, it is an interesting binary.
Posted by: AngloBaptist at October 25, 2004 06:46 PM