SURVIVING THE STORMS

In the last week or so, I’ve spent a lot of time preparing for a workshop I’m presenting on Sacred Art. It’s part of our Presbytery’s semi-annual Big Event, to be held Saturday (Oct. 25) at Valley Church in Paradise Valley.

The workshop is titled “Surviving the Storms” and proposes that in the context of the faith community, art has important functions, not only to beautify, but also to help worshipers deal with intense stress, heal mental trauma and to express feelings that cannot be set in words.

It’s no secret that art has held a central place in worship spaces since the >earliest centuries of our faith. Over the ages, bitter conflicts have raged over the question of whether the arts – even music – have any valid place in the church. In our own time, economic constraints and an emphasis on practicality have produced “butler buildings” that resemble warehouses more than traditional churches.

It’s my argument that aesthetic elements such as expressive architecture, stories told in stained glass and exquisitely wrought alter clothes are important because they touch the human soul. It's not only okay to spent money on sacred art; it's essential.

Think of the many life-changing events that are recognized and celebrated in the church: birth and baptism, marriage, graduations, ordinations, commissionings, death, memorials and funerals. Beyond these rites of passage, people bring all the others joys and sorrows of life with them for pray, support, thanksgiving and grieving: illnesses, hopes and fears, losses, divorces, and all their problems.

How does this relate to the use of art in the church?

Among many other things, it is the function of art to draw all those emotions out of the soul and make them visible, audible, tangible. Sometimes this can be pretty obvious, as when grieving parents find their own pain reflected in a pieta, Mary embracing her crucified Son, or perhaps the family of a slain soldier might see this window depicting an infantryman at the Cross.

These powerful images touch the heart without spelling out their message in words, so each viewer is free to feel a unique impact. The Spirit can speak through such images in a language deeper than words, in much the same way as the Spirit speaks through Scripture,.

Other times the affect of art may be very subtle, even subconscious. Not everyone entering a cathedral is able to put into words the affect of soaring columns or light streaming through clerestory windows. Yet one can hardly imagine not feeling the power of such architecture.

When art functions properly, it is “evocative,” i.e., it evokes an emotional response. It touches the spirit in a way that may be inspirational, cathartic, releasing, awesome or even terrifying. In its best expressions, art is neither neutral nor passive. It communicates the emotions and experience of the artist tothe viewer, and in turn, it draws the emotions and experience of the viewer into itself.

How would a congregation go about choosing appropriate art for a sanctuary, a chapel, a parlor, Fellowship Hall or the church office? Some questions to consider would be subject matter, whether a text, an event such as the crucifixion or an idea such as “grace.” Another factor would be the medium of the art work: will the material from which it is formed fade and deteriorate in a few years (felt, paper) or last for generations (glass, metal, wood.) Other questions might be “What do you want your grandchildren to know about your faith?” “What do you want to tell the next century about our faith today?” Working through these and other questions are well worth the effort.

Art is a great gift of God.

{Come visit us at http://sidekicks.ning.com)