The Church, Her Poor And Her Art

 

Pope Francis's election has reignited the old chestnut that the Church should get rid of her possessions, in particular her art, and give the money to the poor.   This suggestion tends to pop up a great deal, particularly among critics of the Church.  Well, William Oddie of the Catholic Herald has his view on the question and it is well worth reading.  It is a view I would largely agree with.  However, I think I'll explain my position lest I be accused of not loving the poor.

 

First of all if the Catholic Church was an organisation that simple horded wealth and did not help the poor, then certainly the suggestion would be one to take seriously.  However, she is one of the largest charitable organisations in the world (if not the largest).  Every year the Church and her many organisations spend billions on care for the poor.  Millions of her members are dedicated to working with the poor, and all of her religious, regardless of the particular charism of their congregations, engage in some form of charitable work usually making sacrifices to do so.  These same religious often work without pay, and those who do get a wage for their work go far beyond what is required.  The Church cares for Catholics and non-Catholics - she seeks to help anyone who needs help, she makes no distinction - she simply sees the need and responds to it as generously as she can.

 

In this the Church does more than her critics in her work.  Indeed she usually ends up caring for those that society rejects or polite and sophisticated society does not even see.  Most of her work is hidden because she does not want to draw attention to her charitable organisations, except when she is trying to raise money for her poor.  Someone estimated that the Vatican would get $17 billion for her art: a mere drop in the ocean: that sum would not feed all those in the Church's care for long.

 

Secondly, one has to ask the question - does the art serve a purpose in the Church?  Well, if we are concerned with mere financial matters, the answer is yes.  The Vatican art collections raise money for the Church's mission.  Like every other organisation the Church needs an income - she cannot exist on fresh air.  Now the excessively pious may suggest that she should rely on God's providence, and she does, but we need to ask the question: how does God's providence work?  Does God shower money down from heaven every morning like the manna in the desert?  No, he doesn't.  He will inspire people to help through donations, but he will also provide the means for the Church to raise money herself.  But God also expects the Church, as he expects all of us, to earn our keep simply because he does not want us to become loafers.  Laziness and expecting continual handouts is not the Christian way: the Church has to earn money too.  So how?  Many ways. One of them is to take the gifts of art which benefactors have given to the Church down the centuries and put them in a museum and charge tourists a fee to see them: that fee is income which will help the Church in her mission, pay the wages of those she employs, pay various bills that come up and then, with what's left over, help the poor.

 

If the Church did not have this income, then she would rely even more on our donations.  So next time a Catholic says the Church should sell everything and give it to the poor ask them how much they personally contributed to the upkeep of the Church - how much did they put in the Peter's Pence envelope.  When I ask that question, people tend to decline to answer and the conversation is quickly changed, or ended all together.

 

A third point, and an important one.  In yesterday's Gospel we read of St Mary of Bethany's anointing of Jesus.  As the fragrance of the ointment filled the room we hear that Judas was complaining - he saw the adoration but could see it only in financial terms.  So too with the critics - they see art and they only see money. In their eyes, it seems, the artistic patrimony of the world is about money, and perhaps only those with money can own these works.  Working with artists and learning from them I see that while they need to eat and live, ultimately their work is not about money - it is about things much more transcendental. It is about expression and exploration; it is about God and humanity; it is about beauty and suffering.  These are things beyond finance - to reduce art to objects to be bought and sold is to diminish it - the real place of art, ultimately, is not in an auctioneer's gallery, but in a public one where people can come and experience it; where they can listen to what the artist is saying, and to learn something about God, the world and ourselves.   To see art in terms of money is to be another Judas who not only betrayed Christ, but betrayed basic humanity in selling that which was beyond price.   W. B. Yeats used to call such people "philistines".

 

In preserving her artistic works - many of which are gifts, the Church first of all seeks to give glory to God - many of the works are actually artistic works of praise.  She also wishes to encourage the work of artists and ensure that this means of expression continues - hence she commissions works (in doing so she helps artists earn a livelihood - many artists are poor too).  The Church also wants to ensure that these works are available for people to appreciate regardless of their financial status.  When you listen to artists speak about their work  it is obvious they do not want their pieces to be hidden away in the private collections of the rich - and that's where Michelangelo's Pieta and various other works would end up if the Vatican sold them.  The rich should not have a monopoly on the world's art - just because they have money doesn't mean they can become the sole possessors of beauty.  Too often beauty is seen as the preserve of the wealthy, and ugliness the inheritance of the poor.  The Church does not believe that: beauty is for all.  Too many works of art are hidden away in the mansions of the rich, at least the Vatican holds her works so all the world can see them.

 

And while I'm on the point - should our churches be beautiful?  Often connected with the demand that the Church sells her art, is that our churches are too resplendent - they should be plainer, dare I say, uglier?  We are told that our beautiful churches offend the poor.  I think this reveals an existentialist problem: some cannot cope with beauty, or at least beauty in the service of God.   We are told that authentic, honest worship of God is naked, bare, unadorned. Well if that is the case, then our worship would be inhuman, because it is in our nature to offer what is beautiful to those we love.  If we love God, then God's house will be a place of beauty, where we praise by our words, our actions and our works - and our artistic works would be included as works of praise.  If we resent making our places of worship beauty, then we are envious of God: we do not want to give him what we want to keep for ourselves.  Remember, during the Reformation as the reformers denuded the churches to make them less Catholic, less "ornate", we can ask: Where did the art and precious vessels go?  Straight into the homes of the rich and powerful: they took the beautiful things from God's house in the name of reform and put them in their own.  So much for spiritual renewal; I'd call that stealing.  And what about the poor?  Well, with no monastries to help them and the Catholic Church persecuted, they ended up on the streets.

 

No, the Church should keep her art, and she will continue her worldwide mission helping the poor and outcasts: it's not either/or, but both. 

The Conversion of St Paul

I was visiting a painter friend of mine, Richard Moore, who is working on a couple of commissions for us: a painting of St Genesius to be presented to the Holy Father during our pilgrimage to Rome in April, and a series of paintings depicting the life and martyrdom of St Genesius, which he is doing in watercolour.  I was stunned by the beauty and dynamism of the works, and the portrait of Genesius for the Pope was very engaging.  When the works are finished I may upload some of them on to the blog.

Richard normally paints landscapes and city scenes, but a couple of years ago we engaged him to do a realist painting of St Genesius to compliment the Icon: the image of the martyr I use on my blog (above right) is a detail from the painting - the model was an Italian actor.   As we were discussing the series of watercolours, I asked him how he was going to depict that dramatic moment when Genesius was touched by the Holy Spirit and converted: Richard went silent, he was deep in thought.

What a challenge!  To depict in an image the dramatic turn of a human heart, an overwhelming encounter with God - an upheaval    It is so easy to fall into melodrama, and even easier to stumble at the final hurdle and fail.  The greatest artists are those who can capture that moment.

The Conversion of St Paul, the feast we celebrate today, is an event which offers such a challenge to the artist.  Some chose not to show Paul's face, just the dramatic fall, the twisted body, the shock on the faces of Paul's companions.  But this event presents all of us with such a challenge - not merely to try depicting the event on canvas, but rather to see it in the context of our own lives - a moment of conversion for all of us. 

How would we react to such a revelation?  Such revelations, though not as dramatic as Paul's, are part and parcel of our daily lives as God reaches out to us and calls us into a deeper relationship with him, and anoints us as his missionaries in the world.  How do we respond to that call?  How do we as Christians manifest in our daily lives the same light that floored the bigot Saul and made him the Apostle Paul? 

Now there's something to reduce all of us to silence as we work it out, prayerfully.  Happy feast day. 

Art?

When is art art? When is it propaganda?  When is it criminally offensive?  Questions such as these exercise the minds of critics from time to time, and perhaps not often enough nowadays.   As Christians we ask questions such as these every time an artist produces a work which directly, and usually intentionally, offends our sincerely held beliefs and people we hold dear.   Given the nature of Western society today we tend to find ourselves asking those question more and more often.  And now we have another opportunity to ask them as a Toronto gallery hosts an exhibition of works which include a painting of Pope Benedict which is riddled with bullet holes and is part of a section devoted to "evildoers".  Also included in the exhibition is a work depicting American president Barack Obama as Christ on the cross.  The works are by artist Peter Alexander Por.  I'm not reproducing the images, but if you want to see them go here.

As expected the exhibition has received many complaints and the defenders of the works are giving the usual excuses which tend to be peddled out when an artist attacks Christianity, so no light there: I love art, and in the Fraternity we help artists as much as can afford, but sometimes the "artist-speak" used to defend works like Por's verges on the ridiculous and stupid, so we can safely discard those explanations.

So, the questions, when is art art, etc?  Answering these questions is very difficult today because art has become so relativist in the 20th and 21st centuries.  As the notion of beauty and truth waned as people began to make up truth and beauty for themselves, the standards set by the Classical philosophers and artists are no longer acceptable, but are considered bourgeois by many today (revealing the philosophical bunker they are in), so it is difficult to argue.  Many today are offended by the idea of classical beauty and so cannot really accept that ordinary people who live in the "real world" could be touched by this beauty: it was too "exclusive". So art veered off in a particular direction.  Art must be more democratic, ethnic, real, we are told, and so we celebrate these ideas with paintings like Por's.

As Christians we have a particular approach to art.  We accept the classical ideal, but we also see the possibilities in the ordinary.   As 20th century artists were trying to redefine beauty and truth (usually according to their own desires and agendas rather than looking to universals), another thinker was also looking at the question of art and beauty - theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar.  He situated art in the context of the great drama which exists in God, the Incarnation and redemption, and this I think gives us an new edge on what art is.   Von Balthasar restored the idea of beauty and truth, not as that which can be manipulated according to personal tastes or ideological agenda or philosophy, but as universals centred in Christ himself.   The movement of Christian art should be towards these universals, towards Christ.  The Christian artist, then, can take the ordinary, reflect on it, reveal its significance and beauty, and what it is pointing to.  In this light art can reveal man in all his dignity, and yes, sinfulness, but also as one redeemed.  Creation, expressed through landscapes for example, can be seen in a different way, as a character itself in a great plan which is unfolding. 

Interestingly, Richard Moore, the artist who painted the new image of St Genesius, tends to paint landscapes, and attuned to the natural world around him, when you look at one of his paintings you see that he sees there is a life behind it, a meaning to the world, a beauty which is given.  He is a man of faith, and his faith informs his work.

So now, back to Por's work, and the works of those like him.  If we apply the principles of von Balthasar we see Por's work falls short, as does that of many artists today.  That may or may not be their fault - they have grown up in cultural environment which has rebelled against artistic principles.  Art colleges no longer teach traditional, realist or figurative art - one of the reasons I believe they do not do so is because they do not want to promote real talent, real artistic genius is rare and it rises above the ordinary, so better not allow this talent to be revealed, less talented artists will be hurt, undermined, indeed the hacks will be exposed. 

Knowing some very talented artists who could actually draw and paint,  I saw they had an awful time in art school because they were penalised for revealing their ability in works of beauty and intelligence: they had to produce the mediocre trash like everyone else to get their degrees.   Culture has to be renewed, standards do have to be restored and yes that means that not everyone can be an artist, not everyone has has that genius, only the few and they are the ones who have been chosen by God to work with him in the creative.  We all have abilities and talents, but they are different, so we should not feel left out if we cannot reap the praise a good artist gains through their work.  And that is part of the problem, in the age of equality, everyone must be the same, "all must have prizes" as Melanie Phillips puts us.  And so to implement that equality we dismantle the true and the beautiful and worship the banal because then we are all the same - we are all in the same bunker.  And in that bunker we endure the formless shapes and splattered canvases that we are told are art, or seek depth in a trash can balanced on a tossed bed with the artist slumbering within, or swoon in adoration at the instillation of naked people, slithering in muck and screaming their heads off in a recorded audio-visual experience.  Isn't it all just too much?  All this and heaven too!!  Forgive me if I am laughing my head off!   That too may be art.

As for Por, judge his work by comparison.  Take out the Pope, replace him with a Jewish or Muslim leader, or even with Obama or a feminist icon?   Now, is it art?

Church Art: Sell It or Keep It?

Last night at our film club in Dublin we watched The Agony and the Ecstasy, while reflecting on the relationship between the Church and art.  It is a wonderful movie with two great actors, Charlton Heston and Rex Harrison who spent most of the time pulling the hair out of each other, metaphorically speaking.  It was an opportunity to get reacquainted with the work of the great Florentine artist, sculptor, architect and poet, Michelangelo. 

One criticism that tends to made against the Church is her patronage of the arts and her preservation of artistic works.  Critics tell us that the Church should sell all her art and treasures and give the money to the poor.  I remember a story from the life of Archbishop Fulton Sheen.  Once, in conversation with a priest, the priest complained to Sheen that the Church should sell all her riches and property and give the money to the needy. Sheen looked him straight in the eye and asked him, "How much did you steal?"  The priest was shocked, but apparently he did steal - he had been taking funds out of his parish for his own use.  Sheen maintained that those who zealously propose this argument are hiding something themselves. 

That said, we can ask the question, why doesn't the Church sell all her art and treasures?  Having lived in Rome and had the opportunity to get inside the Vatican I can assure you that the riches of the Vatican are concentrated in the basilicas and chapels - for the glory of God, the museums, for the preservation of culture and to share with the world, and in some state rooms to dignify audiences.    The rest of the Vatican is quite simple and austere.  The pope's bedroom is said to be very simple, certainly video evidence shows that his apartment is very understated.    The various Vatican offices are anything but grandiose. 

So why so many treasures?  What about the Church's mission to the poor?  Well most of the treasures and art are either in the churches or museums.  First they beautify the house of God - while many modernists will complain about that, not even Jesus objected to it - he did not condemn the woman who poured expensive perfume over his feet - when Judas (remember - it was Judas the betrayer and thief who first raised the question!) objected the Lord did not agree with him.  Our churches are meant to be beautiful places - they are to be worthy of the worship of God.  Now of course, art in a church is not the great beauty of the Church - the holiness of her members is, but art is the fruit of man's creative work and his engagement with the beautiful: that too must be offered to God and used to worship him, and so the Church commissions art and decorates her churches with it.  I notice when various movements in the Church objected and denuded the churches of art, this art ended up in private homes - they take from God to keep for themselves.  Such was the way with the Protestant Reformation.  

Secondly, the Church preserves art to make it available to the world, and this is the role the Vatican museums play.  These pieces, if sold, would for the most part end up in private collections, and so be taken away from the world.  As the fruit of God's inspiration and man's labour, these pieces belong to the world. 

But there is another reason why the Church keeps them - to raise money.  Yes, she has to be practical.  The Vatican does not run on fresh air - and the donations of the faithful may not be enough to cover the cost of a world-wide mission - the entry fee to the museums helps finance that mission.  When speaking with those who say the Church should sell the art, I always ask them if they would be prepared to make up the loss of income - they always say "Absolutely not!" - relying on such charity, then, it is no wonder the Church has to have a reliable source of income. 

And what about the poor?  The Church is THE biggest charity in the world - her charitable works are part of her world wide mission, and so the monies earned from her various incomes goes to assist the poor in numerous projects around the world.  If she sold all her art, yes, a huge amount of money would go to the poor and then, when that was gone, it's gone.  As it is, with the world coming to see these treasures and paying admission, the Church can continue to finance her many charities year after year. 

So when you're next facing interrogation about the Church and art, remind the critics of these arguments, and then ask them if they are prepared to personally finance the Church's mission.  You'll find they'll not be too keen to do so, in fact with many of them they are not really interested in the Church's mission, may even be opposed to it, perhaps not even understand it.  Remind them, then, that Judas was the first to raise this question.  That should bring the conversation to an immediate end!