by Joseph Stoutzenber
I was sitting in a newly redecorated university chapel next to an artist friend of mine. I asked him what he thought of the ornate crucifix behind the altar. He responded, “It pretends to be art.” Despite the many failed attempts at artistic expression intended to open one’s gaze to the holy in Catholic culture, clearly, Catholicism has had a long love affair with art and has been one of the greatest proponents of art for two thousand years.
If you are not familiar with the books or videos of Sister Wendy Beckett, treat yourself to one. In the 1990s, she hosted two series on art for the BBC and wrote a number of books as well. She does not confine herself to what we might think of as “religious” art. However, she sees experiencing art as not just a pleasure but as a doorway to spiritual awareness. Consider The Gaze of Love to get a sense of how she finds a wide variety of art, offering insights into the human condition that can serve as catalysts for prayer.
Last month, Pope Francis spoke to a gathering of artists to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the Vatican Museum’s modern art section. He quoted the noted twentieth-century theologian Romano Guardini as saying that “the situation of the artist is not unlike that of a child and even that of a visionary.” That is, good artists look at reality around them with a sense of wonder, finding beauty that others can miss like a child does. It is akin to what Zen Buddhists call having a “beginner’s mind.” This freshness of perspective is also that of a visionary who sees possibilities for what can be. It is like the message of the Hasidic tale in which a student asks a rabbi, “When can we tell the moment of dawn? Is it when, from a distance, we can distinguish between a dog and a sheep?” The rabbi answers, “No, it is dawn when we can look at another and recognize that person as our sister or brother. Before that, it is still darkness.” A work of art opens us up and leads us to enter “a space into which we can step,” where we encounter objects, events, and persons in a new light.
I have friends who are artists and poets. One friend of mine, Frank, spends his early hours painting every day, at times adding a poetic reflection to accompany the painting. A poet friend of mine, Ed, has a way of describing commonplace experiences that always leave me thinking, “Why didn’t I see that?” Sometimes we hear a song that speaks to our heart just at the moment we need to hear it, as if God is our dee-jay. I am not at home with art, visual art, poetry, or music. I have tried my hand at writing what I call poems when a scene or situation sparks a sense of appreciation when poetry seems to be called for. I am enclosing a poem I wrote, not because it is great poetry or even poetry at all, but as an encouragement to any who might read it to try their hand at being a child or a visionary, giving expression in some fashion to the beauty that surrounds us always.
Food Court
Food court at the mall is a sacred place. A teenage girl with sparkling eyes, Dark hair in rivulets down her forehead, Chatters away over salad, Her gawky boyfriend munching on Chick-fil-A, Never uttering a word. Young girls cluster together, Heads turned inward, eyes outward, Whispering, sharing secrets, In search of… Those boys from school! A couple walks by arm in arm, Dropped off in a van from a group home. But there they are, Together, haven for each other, Making their way slowly through the crowd. Young men flank each side of the court Distributing communion—slivers of cheese steak Or Chinese chicken on a toothpick—“special of the day.” A Guatemalan man, like an altar boy, Meanders among the tables, Broom and dustpan in hand, Picking up each morsel left behind. This is his turf, And he will keep it clean. Thomas Merton was right. We miss God Not because there is too little of God But because there is so much.
Joseph Stoutzenberger 