The opening ceremonies of the 2024 Summer Olympics in Paris became the latest in a series of highly controversial events to have occurred this July. I am not going to say much about the others as they have to do with American domestic politics. Nor am I going to say a whole lot about what happened at the Olympics as I am merely using it as a springboard for a discussion of theological aesthetics. That it shocked anyone is rather surprising in itself. What else would one expect from the games that represent the apex of Modern man’s regression into the pagan idolatry of sports, especially when located in the capital city of a nation that at the end of the eighteenth century threw off and murdered its divine-right king and queen, threw off its ancient allegiance to the Church, and paraded a prostitute through said capital telling the people to worship her as the “goddess” Reason? Note that the part of the Olympic ceremonies that included a blasphemous reenactment of the Last Supper featuring drag queens, a celebration of Dionysius the Olympian whose festivals threatened civilization even in pagan days (read Euripides’ Bacchae), and the same sort of tasteless garbage that takes place in those silly parades in honour of the deadly sin of Superbia, also included an honouring of the French Revolution. Despite the glorious events of the ninth of Thermidor, the anniversary of which we just passed, France never recovered from this disaster, not even to the extent that England had recovered from the mother of all left-wing revolutions, the Puritan one, in the Restoration of the previous century and even that recovery, alas, was not as complete as it should have been. Perhaps there are some who might still be surprised that an alphabet soup fest took place at what might reasonably be expected to be a celebration of jock culture. Such have not been paying attention to how the costume and makeup division of the alphabet soup brigade have claimed the field of athletics as their own territory in the last few years.
Christian
condemnation of the mockery of a key event in our sacred history has come under
criticism from two directions. There are
those “liberal Christians” who can always be counted on to condemn any act of
Christians standing up for themselves and their faith as being “unchristian”, “judgmental”,
“hindering the Gospel”, “politicizing Christianity” or some other such
balderdash. I place little value on such opinions and do not think them worthy
of a response. The other type of
criticism is almost the opposite of this.
It takes Christians to task for being too milquetoastish in their
defense of their faith. The reason
people like the performers at the Olympics and those who approved their
performance feel free to mock Christianity in ways they would not feel
similarly free to mock other religions such as, for example, Islam, is because
Christians do not respond with such things as fatwas and jihads when their faith is
mocked. A more insightful variation of this
would be to say that much of the Christian response to this mockery has been
based on liberal principles rather than Christian ones. In other words it has taken the form of “you
wouldn’t treat other religions this way, it is unfair that you are treating us
like that, this is discrimination” rather than “you have mocked the true and
living God, Who will not be mocked, and furthermore mocked Him at a key moment
in the history of His having taken on human nature and become Man in order to
save us, the world, and yes, even you, from the sins for which we all must repent
rather than celebrate as you are now doing, and if you don’t change your sorry
ways and seek His forgiveness, you will suffer forever the consequences of
mocking Him .”
This
incident brought to mind an earlier controversy regarding a depiction of the Last
Supper. No, I am not referring to Dan
Brown’s silly book but to a painting by Venetian Renaissance artist Paolo
Veronese. In 1573 he completed a very
large – 18.37 ft. by 42.95 ft. – oil painting that had been commissioned by the
Dominicans as a replacement for a painting by Titian of the Last Supper that
had been lost to fire two years earlier.
The middle of the painting features Christ at the centre of a table with
the twelve Apostles on either side of Him much like other familiar portraits of
the Last Supper. The setting is clearly
not an upper room in first century Jerusalem, however, from the architecture of
the room and the skyline of the city in the large window behind them. Then there are all the extras. There are close to fifty people in the
painting, including a dwarf in jester’s attire, a few African slaves, German soldiers,
and all sorts of other people, none of whom one would have expected to have
been present on the occasion even if the factor of anachronism were to be
excluded. There are a number of animals
there too including a cat peeking out from under the table at St. Peter’s feet
at a dog sitting in front of the table and tilting its head to look back at the
cat and a parrot on the jester’s arm.
These promoted an investigation by the local Venetian branch of the Inquisition
which, on the grounds that he had violated the rules regarding religious art
that the Council of Trent (1545-1563) had imposed, ordered him to fix the
painting, which he did by re-titling it “The Feast at the House of Levi.” Monty Python did a sketch loosely
based on this although they switched in Michelangelo for Paolo Veronese and
the Pope for the local Inquisition.
A
comparison of this incident with the current one brings a few observations to
mind. It goes without saying, of course,
that the Church was more powerful in the sixteenth century than today. It is also evident that Veronese’s painting
was not intrinsically blasphemous like the performance art at the Olympics. Had it been so, the Inquisition would not have
been satisfied with a change of title. One
conclusion that might be drawn from this is that the Church then took lesser
offences in the realm of art more seriously than the Church today takes greater
offences. Which makes it interesting to
note that this incident occurred ten years after the closing of the
Council of Trent. The Council of Trent
was the Roman Church’s response to the Reformation. The Reformation primarily had to do with
ethical matters (charges of ecclesiastical corruption that began with the 99
theses pertaining to the sale of indulgences) and doctrine (the authority of
the Church in relation to that of Scripture, the doctrine of salvation), but
there was also an aesthetic element that was intertwined with both the ethical
and doctrinal. The Protestant Reformers
considered the invocation of the saints and a number of similar or associated
practices to be in violation of the second commandment, that is to say, the
commandment against idolatry. This is an
ethical issue because if the Reformers were right the practices in question are
sinful, because idolatry is a major sin, and if the Reformers were wrong, they
were guilty of the sin of falsely judging the motives of other Christians. It is also a doctrinal issue, because for the
Reformers to be right the ancient Christian doctrine of the Communion of the Saints,
that all Christians, whether in earth or in heaven, are members of the one body
of Jesus Christ within which there is no veil between the living and the dead
because all are one in Christ, would have to be wrong. It was an aesthetical matter as well and
became increasingly so as the Reformation progressed and newer Reformers
developed traditions within Protestantism that adopted such strict views as that
any artistic depiction of God was idolatry or, more extremely, that any
artistic depiction of anyone was idolatry, and that consequently Church
buildings needed to be stripped of all adornment. That it was the rules of the Roman Church,
adopted in the Counter Reformation, that Veronese ran afoul of demonstrates
something that a lot of Christians find difficult to grasp today. Aesthetic permissivism is not the only
alternative to Puritanism, the extreme version of Protestantism that stripped
Churches of their artwork, Church music of its instruments, closed theatres,
and basically looked at almost any attempt at artistic expression as an offense
against the God Who had given the ability of artistic expression to man.
By “aesthetic
permissivism” I mean the idea that artists should not be subject to any rules external
to those of their art, an idea closely related to the idea that art should not
be subject to any criticism other than aesthetic. In practice these ideas quickly translate
into the artist not being subject to any rules whatsoever and his art not being
subject to any criticism. These are
popular ideas today, not least among artists for whom they have an obvious
self-serving appeal, because of a) the widespread notion that beauty, the
standard upon which all aesthetic rules and judgements are based, is purely
subjective and b) the less widespread, except among left-wing activists who
think they are artists, notion that beauty is a false standard that needs to be
deconstructed and so art must be made to deliberately eschew the standard of
beauty by embracing its opposite. Much
of the corpus of the late
Sir Roger Scruton was devoted to demonstrating how erroneous these ideas
are. Most Christians are uncomfortable
with aesthetic permissiveness in its bald form as described in this paragraph
although there is an idea popular in certain Christian circles that resembles
an inverted version of it. This is the
idea that while artists and their art should be subject to rules and criticism
of a moral nature, albeit not to the extent demanded by Puritanism, aesthetic
judgements are purely subjective and should not be influenced by theology or
ethics. A version of this that arises
with regards to Church worship is the notion, often supported by a
misinterpretation of St. Paul, that the matter of how we worship is adiaphora. Fr. Paul A. F. Castellano’s As It is In Heaven: A Biblical, Historical,
and Theological Introduction to the Traditional Church and Her Worship
(Tucson: Wheatmark, 2021) is an excellent rebuttal of this notion.
Puritanism
is no more an acceptable position for orthodox Christians than aesthetic permissivism. The premise that all artistic depictions
break the commandment against idols can be answered in the same way as can the
premise that killing in self-defense or defense of others, in war, and as the
execution of a sentence for death passed for the commission of a capital crime
are forbidden by “thou shalt not kill”, i.e., with “turn the page.” Exodus 21:14-17 and 29 prescribe the death
penalty for various offences in the chapter after “thou shalt not kill” or more
literally “thou shalt not do murder” in Exodus 20:13. Only a few chapters later in Exodus 25 comes
the instructions on building the ark of the covenant, with the mercy seat, with
two golden cherubim (images of heavenly – in the sense of the heaven where God
dwells – beings) (vv. 18-20). The
candlestick was to have representations of almonds on it (Ex. 25:33-34). The ephod of the high priest was to have
depictions of pomegranates on it (Ex. 28:33-34). The Puritan interpretation of Exodus 20:4 as
forbidding all artistic depictions cannot hold up within the context of its own
book. It cannot hold up in the context of
the next verse which provides the criteria which distinguishes an idol from
something that is merely a work of art.
As for depictions of God, the ruling of the Second Council of Nicaea
(787 AD) against iconoclasm maintained, Scripturally, that the Incarnation had
changed things, He Who as the eternal Son of God is the perfect Image of the
invisible God His Father (Col. 1:15, Heb. 1:3) became Man and in doing so
revealed God that He might be seen in Him (Jn. 1:18, 14:9), and so since in the
Incarnate Son God and Man are forever united in Hypostatic Union, God can be
depicted because Man can be depicted.
The Second Council of Nicaea was a general council of the Church prior
to the East-West Schism, received by the whole Church and both sides of the
later Schism, as the seventh truly ecumenical council. Protestantism’s reasons for rejecting it as
such are insufficient in my opinion. The
attitude that manifested itself in the iconoclasm against which Nicaea II
pronounced judgement and then later again in Puritanism goes back prior to the
coming of Christ to the aftermath of the Maccabean revolt against the
Seleucids. Zealous lay leaders of Israel,
recognizing from the prophets that the Assyrian and Babylonian Captivities had
come upon Israel because of idolatry, determined that Israel would not only not
practice idolatry again but would not be allowed to get close, and “hedged” the
second commandment, and all the other commandments of the Mosaic Law, with
extra commandments making the burden of the Law that much heavier. These became the sect of Second Temple
Judaism known as the Pharisees with whom Christ interacted in His ministry. The spirit of Pharisaism is evident in the
way the English Puritans responded to the efforts of Archbishop Laud and the
other Carolinian Divines to maintain the “beauty of holiness” (Ps. 29:2, 96:9) in
the English Church within the limits of the rubrics of the Protestant
Elizabethan Prayer Book with accusations of papist conspiracies, armed revolt
against Church and King, regicide, and a tyrannical regime that stripped the
Churches of everything of aesthetic value.
While the
Roman Church’s handling of the Paolo Veronese “incident” demonstrates that a
mean can be found between these two extremes it does not necessarily illustrate
what the proper mean should look like. Let
us return to the incident that prompted this discussion. A better Christian response to the
blasphemous mockery of the Last Supper than to rely solely on the liberal principle
that one religion should not be singled out and targeted for the kind of
mockery to which other religions would not be subjected is to stand on the
Christian moral and theological principle that the true and living God will not
be mocked. To this moral and theological
condemnation, however, must be added aesthetic condemnation. The performance was bad not just on moral and
theological grounds but aesthetic as well.
It was a display of ugliness not beauty.
Performances of this nature, even when they are not desecrating events
from sacred history, generally are. The
spirit of mockery in which they are conducted, even when not directed
explicitly against God, is directed against standards that are wrongfully considered
to be oppressive, which in the arts means especially beauty. Mockery of beauty is ultimately mockery of
God, of course, because beauty like the other transcendentals (properties of
being), goodness and truth, finds its ultimate expression in Him in Whom Being
and Essence are one and Whose very name translates as “He Who Is.”
St. Peter
commanded us to “be ready always to give an answer to every man that
asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you” (1 Pet. 3:15) and to give such
a response as discussed in the previous paragraph to “artistic” assaults on the
faith, Christians should familiarize themselves with basic theological
aesthetics. Although more has probably
been written in the last hundred years on this subject than in all the rest of
Christian history put together it is much more of a niche subject than its
counterpart philosophical aesthetics, the field of the aforementioned Sir Roger
Scruton. Hans Urs von Balthasar’s seven
volume The Glory of the Lord: A
Theological Aesthetics (published in German from 1961 to 1967, English
translation published by Ignatius Press in San Francisco from 1983 to 1990) is a good place to start. For anyone wanting to learn more about how in
God Being and Essence are the same thing read St. Thomas Aquinas, or if you are
looking for a shorter treatment E. L. Mascall’s He Who Is: A Study in Traditional Theism, originally published in
1943, just republished last year by Angelico Press in Brooklyn. Don’t mistake St. Thomas and Mascall as
starting with being as possessed by created things and equating it with God. This would be both idolatry and
pantheism. It is God’s Being, of which
created being is merely analogous, that is one with His Essence, as no created
being and essence are one. For a warning
against the idolatry of equating God with anything in creation, including our
idea of Him, see the first chapter of Vladimir Lossky’s The Mystical Theology of the Eastern Church (Crestwood: St.
Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2002) but with the caveat that Eastern theology
often takes its apophaticism to the extreme of denying the possibility of
natural theology, a denial that is difficult to reconcile with the first
chapter of Romans. One final
recommendation is Benjamin Guyer’s The
Beauty of Holiness: The Caroline Divines and Their Writings (London: Canterbury
Press, 2012), from the Canterbury Studies
in Spiritual Theology Series.
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