Sunday, October 12, 2014

All fairest beauty

The first time I remember going to church I was four years old. The church was relocating from a small city to the nearby countryside, and it was meeting in a tent pavilion. The tent was softly bright underneath, almost shadowless with yellow sunlight diffused through the canvas and reflected up from shiny straw underfoot. That was possibly the first time I consciously experienced beauty. It is the earliest memory of it I can bring to mind. Sadly, the beauty was entirely accidental, and the new building was not beautiful by accident or on purpose. Visual beauty was not valued or connected to worship in any way. Spending anyone's time or money to design a meaningfully beautiful space would, I think, have been considered a sinful extravagance if it had been thought of at all. Any aesthetically pleasing use of Christian symbol would have been misunderstood as irrelevant to true, spiritual worship. None were used except for a "Christian flag" (an ugly thing with ugly implications, in my opinion) and an American flag, which is not a Christian symbol at all. At some point a banner of white paper (I think it was paper) was put up across one side of the cement block sanctuary with the words "For the people had a mind to work" --an uplifting snippet from the Old Testament.

Such obliviousness or ignorance of the power of beauty in church is especially mysterious to me since some of the leading, longtime congregants both appreciated art and were artistically creative in other parts of their lives. I had a wise and gracious junior-high-girls Sunday school teacher, a former fashion model, who invited our class to her home for an event I don't remember. I was impressed with the well-lit refinement of her house's decor, but most of all I remember my discomfiture over her bronze replica of Rodin's Kiss, whose subjects, naked and unashamed, enfolded each other in a graceful embrace. Yet her church, which she faithfully served, was ugly.

For my children, beauty in worship is a weekly experience. Visual, musical, and intellectual beauty are both normal and appreciated, at least by my older two, but below my own current feeling of normal remains a delighted surprise. I have been a part of this church since college oh so many years ago, but for many of those years I benefited from the artistic expression of others without appropriately valuing artistic expression in myself. I felt conflicted over it and neglected the gift that was in me. I only became an artist again because I came upon an opportunity to make money with it. When the money mostly stopped coming in,  I had to figure out what my art's essential value was, which has been an up and down, roundabout kind of journey. The journey grew straight and swift while designing a silver crucifix for the new bishop of our diocese. For much of that process I sat outside in the tall grass and sunlight behind my studio/laundry room, with the wax model and a few small tools. As I reverently, gratefully refined the figure of Jesus on the cross I felt companioned by his love, warmed in my heart. I felt a fracture in me mending. My love for beauty and artistic expression were being integrated into my faith.

This enormous image, an icon of the resurrected Jesus Christ,  which my church uses during our arts filled Saturday night Easter Vigil service was painted mostly by church member Janice Skivington. (The background in this picture is in a rented space, not our own building, because so many people come to the Vigil.)


About halfway through the very long, rich and exciting service, at the liturgical moment of the resurrection, marked by the words "Christ is risen" and the ringing of hundreds of bells, this painting is raised majestically from the floor. It is a time of joy and awe, an appropriately emotional experience and expression of our thoughtfully considered and chosen beliefs. I wish I had more photos from the service to share.

I'm not sure what triggered this post. I've been thinking about art more than I've been doing it this week, but I have to accept weeks like this as a normal part of my life rhythm just now. I expect next week will be better, and I'll have some things of my own making to show you.

6 comments:

  1. Melissa, I appreciated your thoughts on Beauty and the Church. I have also linked you in my latest blog post. http://janiceskivington.blogspot.com/2014/10/fairest-beauty.html
    Thank you for writing this and thank you for making such a touching statement about being a visually perceptive person of Faith.

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    1. Thank you, Janice, for your appreciation and for the link.

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  2. Since I work for a church, sometimes I get caught up in the work instead of the feelings of the people who attend. Your post gives me a good reminder about what it's all about, and beauty is a big part of that. Janice's painting is beautiful.

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    1. I pray that you will find your work fulfilling and rewarding as you try keep it all in perspective. Blessings to you, Linda.

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  3. I have perhaps an opposite perspective, in that I grew up in a church that had plenty of beauty and intentionality about symbol, but fractured over doctrinal and practice issues. I have come to believe that the sincere outworking of love for Jesus, and a thorough love for Scripture, are the foundation points in church, and that beauty is a tool but can't become an end in itself. I never heard the clear presentation of the gospel where I needed it most, in my church and home, and I have to think that the intellectual and artistic pursuits became a little too central in my background. That's not perhaps the whole story, but it's important to keep the two in tension. Presenting Jesus first and foremost, His word, and letting beauty be a second tool, not an end in itself. Some of the most sincere and forthright presenters of the gospel to me didn't know a lick about beauty, but they sure shone with Jesus' face, and that was beauty enough to draw me to HIM. The beauty of holiness perhaps.

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    1. First of all is love, which is 'the beauty of holiness." Without love, both true doctrine and beautiful expression are nothing but "clanging gongs and clashing cymbals," and will ultimately do more harm than good, in a Christian setting. I really don't think beauty is secondary, though, but a necessary, completely integral part of telling the truth, of telling the story, of worship, of being who God intended, what God wills. In some strains of Christianity beauty and the arts are not valued--or are only valued as a tool, so the arts there are mediocre and lifeless and young artistic Christians are wounded by subtle lies and seek refuge elsewhere. I don't think knowing or even caring nothing about visual beauty disqualifies a person in any way--we are different and each of us bring our unique gifts and treasures. I do think something is very wrong in a church if some of its members have truly beautiful homes and artistic imaginations while the church remains forever ugly. I believe this is connected to a misunderstanding of creation, the incarnation and of grace. We could have a deep and nuanced article length (book length?) discussion about this--but I'm guessing agree more than we disagree about this when it comes right down to it.

      The title of this post is from a lesser known verse of the hymn Fairest Lord Jesus:" All fairest beauty, heavenly and earthly, wonderfully Jesus is found in thee." It can't be separated out, and each of us express different visions or aspects of that one beauty.

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