{Book Club: The Spirit of the Liturgy}
- I hope you will read along in this book club (or just read my posts, that’s okay): Joseph Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy.
- (When you buy something via our Amazon affiliate link, a little cash rolls our way… just a little. Thanks!)
- I’ll post on Fridays, although for this longer book, perhaps not every Friday. I’ll give you your homework, I’ll talk about what we read, we’ll discuss in the comments. Even if you read later, the comments will still be open.
Previously:
Introduction to the reading: Joseph Ratzinger’s The Spirit of the Liturgy: A Book Club for Easter and Beyond
Nature or history in worship? Or both?
The Relationship of the Liturgy to Time and Space: preliminary questions
The Reservation of the Blessed Sacrament
Homework: Read Chapter Two of Part III.
Chapter One, Part III: The Question of Images
This chapter and the one following are about art and the liturgy.
It's hard to believe that Joseph Ratzinger would expect to deal with images in the liturgy in one chapter, and pretty much get away with it. Of course, that leaves us to try to figure out what he's saying, in the space of a blog post! Yet, there's no denying that we are in need of some principles, because the state of art and music in the Church today is deplorable, no way around it, largely because we've conceded the main question, which is, “What is art?”
Is art — is beauty — essential? That is, does it go to the essence of a thing? Or is it, how shall we put it, optional, or an add-on? Is it superficial, like a veneer, covering the real thing, maybe hiding it? Or a sort of trick, a way to snare those who aren't paying attention to abstractions? Is it somewhat unreal, in contrast to spirituality, which is real?
What is art? What is sacred art?
That is, if we decide that the church building should have images, does that mean that any image will do? How would we decide?
And if art, specifically in terms of image, is essential, what do we make of the Commandment against graven images?
The ancients, with a terseness that hints at the elusiveness of beauty, called it “the radiance of truth.” I think it will be helpful to keep this definition in mind as we talk about art — specifically, what constitutes sacred art.
Well, let's dive in!
Ratzinger, to begin, demonstrates that the Christian acceptance of image is in continuity with Jewish tradition and thus, with the First Commandment, to make no graven image. The images discovered in archaeological finds demonstrate an important point which Ratzinger will return to again and again, and which forms the center of his liturgical understanding: images used in the worship of the One God in the synagogue (as opposed to images worshiped as God, which is what's forbidden) are not like pictures in a history book, meant to illustrate something in the past. They are, rather, “a narrative (haggadah), which, while calling something to mind, makes it present.” (P. 117)
This being made present reaches its fullness in the sacramental action of the Church, with “the expression of a new experience of time, in which past, present, and future make contact, because they have been inserted into the presence of the risen Lord.” (P. 117)
As we keep the definition of art, of beauty (“the radiance of truth”) in mind, we appreciate the importance of Ratzinger's insistence that images “have the character of mysteries, going far beyond the didactic [instructive] function of telling the stories of the Bible.” (P. 118)
My friends, we are almost — almost — beyond understanding this point, in the rationalist age we live in. For us, art has two purposes: to make us feel something and to instruct us in something. But as to giving us a window on a truth — in fact, radiating the truth — we are very nearly impervious!
Thus, those few of us on this journey of “The Spirit of the Liturgy” must pay careful attention to the arguments of these two chapters in this section. We must approach them as if they are written in a different language, not taking any words for granted.
We think we know what he means by image — and we do not! This, alas, is the legacy of our epoch, the modernist epoch in which we live, sadly divorced from the hope of encountering truth, floundering about in the swamps of the Will. Do you remember the discussion from Guardini's last chapter — about the primacy of the Logos over the Ethos? The gist of what he was saying is that if we rely on Will — on using force, energy, even persuasion and argumentation — to effect change or understanding or enhancement of spiritual unity, we make a mistake.
Now we begin to see why the earliest Christians weren't interested in making a portrait of Christ in the sense that we would probably expect them to. They rather wanted to radiate the truth, the meaning, the Logos, the Good Shepherd who enters into history to rescue the sheep, by means of the image. (P. 118)
We will talk much more about this in the next chapter, on music, but for now, a certain awareness that we have lost this connection of beauty to truth will take us far. Sometimes, knowing what you don't know helps!
At the same time, the emphasis on the sacramentality of the icon (which means “sacred image” in Greek, but also has a more particular meaning for us) led to difficulties.
The Greek longing for the vision of the Eternal seemed to be fulfilled [in the “icon not made by human hands, the “true face of Christ”]. Thus the icon inevitably assumed in its form the status of a sacrament. It was regarded as bestowing a communion no less than that of the Eucharist. People began to think that there was virtually a kind of real presence of the Person imaged in the image.
This led to the reaction of iconoclasm — both the theoretical opposition to images and also the physical destruction of not only images but all manner of liturgical accoutrements. As Ratzinger points out, this movement had a political side; also, it was not without irony, in that its major proponents were some of the most sumptuously indulgent, worldly men of the day.
The pages in this chapter outlining the history of images in worship are worth reading: “In the course of this struggle the true theology of icons matured and bequeathed us a message that has a profound relevance to us today in the iconographic crisis of the West” — that is, our present-day struggle to recover beauty in worship.
We in the modern age are living through our own period of iconoclasm. We are caught between the need for beauty in life and worship, and a profound mistrust of the material world. The answer, as before, can only be understood if we finally realize that the question concerns the Incarnation; that is, the consecration of the created world through man's mediation. “The crisis of art for its part is a symptom of the crisis of man's very existence.” (P. 130)
In the interim between these early disputes and ours, a new difficulty has arisen, the difficulty of finding meaning itself outside of the mind of man — outside of what becomes mere preference.
The immense growth in man's mastery of the material world has left him blind to the equations of life's meaning that transcend the material world. We might almost call it a blindness of the spirit… Positivism [the ascendency of Will, of Ethos] formulated in the name of scientific seriousness, narrows the horizon to what is verifiable, to what can be proved by experiment; it renders the world opaque [vs. the way of beauty, which bestows clarity]. True, it still contains mathematics, but the logos that is the presupposition of this mathematics and its applicability is no longer evident. Thus our world of images no longer surpasses the bounds of sense and appearance, and the flood of images that surrounds us really means the end of the image… art itself… becomes literally object-less… no longer perceives the… Creator Spirit…. it manages to produce only what is arbitrary and vacuous, bringing home to man the absurdity of his role as creator. (P. 130-131)
In short, image as the radiance of logos has been reduced to act. But where does that leave beauty?
Let's finish as Ratzinger does, by summarizing his principles, principles that speak particularly to the question of what kind of images can be thought of as sacred:
One: Resolve to meditate on the Incarnation, for this is the key. God was made visible! Beauty entered the world — Jesus Christ is the radiance of the Truth. “Iconoclasm is not a Christian option.”
Two: Beauty and holiness go together. Holiness is the radiance of goodness. Beauty is the radiance of truth. We learn holiness by means of salvation history, which is the proper subject of sacred art — and know that history here means the history of earth and heaven, the seven days and the Eighth Day, the day that takes us beyond history to the heavenly realm. And thus, beauty must have as its subject the saints! Without the saints, how will we know holiness? For they are those who have fulfilled that dictum that God became man that man might become divine.
Three: “Every image of Christ must contain these three essential aspects of the mystery of Christ” — that is, Christ crucified, risen, and come again. These three presuppose the Incarnation. What is Ratzinger saying here? That for an image to be considered sacred, it must not be a representation only of one aspect of His saving action.
This point in particular can help us discern whether an image is holy or not, suitable for worship or not. “An image of the Crucifixion no longer transparent to Easter would be just as deficient as an Easter image forgetful of the wounds and the suffering of the present moment…. the image of Christ is always an icon of the Eucharist… points to the sacramental presence [not historical only] of the Easter mystery.”
To understand this point, I'd say that it would be a good idea to study sacred art from the time before the Renaissance, just as Ratzinger does in this chapter. With this third principle, we start, for instance, to understand the images of the Nativity that seem so stark. Ah, they are foreshadowing His sacrifice. And that in turn helps us to understand how this wondrous moment in history can be juxtaposed, in the course of its very narration, with the sinister threat of Herod and the murder of the Innocents. It's this ability of the more ancient forms of art to present, with varying emphases, the whole of Christ's saving action (for every moment of his life saves!) that we've lost. It's why we turn to these forms to try to recover what makes them more sacred than modern attempts. The latter are simply too literal, too one-dimensional, even in their romantic aspirations.
Four: It's not desirable to render holy images hyper-realistically. “The sacredness of the image consists precisely in the fact that it comes from an interior vision.” The image “must be a fruit of contemplation.” It must be “at the service of the liturgy.”
The artist must be humble before the mysteries. He can't assault us with his technical prowess. He can't overwhelm us with his strict adherence to “reality” — by which he means what is visible — because it's what is invisible that sacred art must convey. (By the same token, it can't be too abstract, which spiritualizes meaning out of reality.)
Fifth: The Church in the West does not have to scrap her heritage in favor of the past or of the East, but she must be open to the norms expressed by the Councils. That is how creativity that is true sacred art will arise anew. Sacred art is not the same as religious art. And that is what we must rediscover. Simply arousing a pious feeling in the breasts of some is not enough to make an image worthy to be included in the liturgy. Remember Guardini's principle of universality!
There cannot be completely free expression in sacred art. Forms of art that deny the logos of things and imprison man within what appears to the senses are incompatible with the Church's understanding of the image. (P. 134)
Art cannot be “produced”… It is always a gift… It has to be received, otherwise it is not there… it requires the gift of a new kind of seeing. And so it would be worth our while to regain a faith that sees. (P. 135)
The humility before the liturgy that gives rise to the faith necessary for the expression of beauty (with all the criteria that Ratzinger outlines) will have another effect besides enriching worship. It will –as it has in the past — overflow to the culture at large and renew artistic expression even in a non-religious context.
And Lord knows, we need such a renewal!
Were there any other passages you’d like to talk about?
Questions? Comments? I’d love to hear from you!
(Emphases added in quotes are mine.)
Click here to see our previous discussion of Romano Guardini’s The Spirit of the Liturgy, which you can read free, online. You can also purchase it here, although be warned, this edition does not have the footnotes, which stinks.
sibyl says
There cannot be completely free expression in sacred art. Forms of art that deny the logos of things and imprison man within what appears to the senses are incompatible with the Church’s understanding of the image. (P. 134)
I would love to have some actual examples here. Although Catholic by deep conviction, I almost can’t figure out what this means or what “imprisons man in his senses.”
Furthermore, I’d like to say how important it is that beauty is the “radiance of truth.” We need an image of Jesus that is more than the Victorian blond-haired boy with eyes like a doe, but on the other hand, we can’t make him look like a street tough. Because we have — all of us — lost an inner sense of what is true, we can’t always judge, and instead go on what a piece of art makes us feel.
Here again is my perennial problem — preference. I personally love icons, but how can I distinguish loving them because they are to my taste and loving them because they radiate holiness? I really need help here.
Lisa G. says
Surely it is fine to be what you are, even while knowing you can be improved upon. 🙂 And pray about it, asking God to give you the truer understanding. And then be patient. 🙂
Leila says
sibyl — is the key to be found in his discussion of the development of sacred art? Pay close attention to the explanation of the aim of the (high) renaissance — that beauty becomes an end in itself.
Obviously preference enters into the question. Some art appeals to some, and to others, no. Yet, there is something more. Humility has to shine through the art. The artist should be saying to us “here is a truth” not “*I* the ARTIST am forcing my “take” on you.”
There is more — and we will discuss it in terms of music, the next chapter. Harmony exists and is objective — and can be expressed visually as well, in proportion.
The good news is that there are actual criteria for art! Especially sacred art. Ratzinger does go over them here — read the heart of the chapter carefully, as I had to compress. But then there is that beauty that cant’ be analyzed. For that, we have to train our eye, and as I said, I think that familiarizing ourselves with the art of the time periods he mentions (and, of course, iconography) will help us gain that training.
For a really full discussion of all this, see David Clayton’s “Way of Beauty” — http://amzn.to/2aCwnC7
Anel says
Wow Leila you really pour so much into these [kinda :)] weekly discussions. It is truly admirable. It gives so much insight. Thank you.
Nancy says
Thank you Lelia for your discussions. There is so much to think about!
Lisa G. says
Leila, even though I’m only halfway through this chapter, I have a question. As far as I know, all the very early images of Christ are icon in style. Also, I’m thinking of the Jasna Gora image of Our Lady, kept in Czestochowa, which is believed by some to have been painted by St. Luke. But I believe others of her are also said to be his work – maybe Our Lady of Perpetual Help? But there are a few. I just assumed this was the way those people so long ago saw things, and so that’s how they painted them. It always seemed strange to me, because icons are not realistic, but the mistake is often made, when thinking about the past, that people always thought and felt as we do now, which isn’t so at all.
Now, look at Giotto’s work. He’s later than the icons, but it’s not vastly different. I’m talking about that two-dimensionality. But he is more realistic than the icons. (by the way, what is that image in your post? Is that an icon?) I’m talking about the path that art has taken in realistically portraying the human being.
So, aren’t icons just the way people of that age painted? And, since it was the style of art in that era, why would we want to copy it again now? We are not who we were (meaning humanity); they would just be copies, wouldn’t they? I have to admit here that icons have always left me rather cold, although there are some I’ve seen which do seem to speak to me, especially some of these old images of the Blessed Mother.
I don’t intend here to argue with the fact that the early Christians were concerned with portraying the holiness of their subject. But this was what they knew, right? This particular style of painting?
I am totally ignorant of what art looked like before this, and knowing that would be helpful. Anyway, now, I’ll finish the chapter. 🙂
Lisa G. says
Okay, I have read the whole thing! What he said about art history addresses much of my question.
So now, what does “icon” mean? Is it a painted image of a holy person, deliberately intended to represent their holiness, and definitely not their actual appearance? If so, then if an icon were to be painted today, would it have to have that two-dimensional (sorry – I know this is a bad and simplistic way of describing them) look? Could they look different than that?
So, even though Cardinal Ratzinger answered much of my question, it opened up another one. Thank you. 🙂
Leila says
Lisa —
The word icon has that specific meaning of the sacred image that takes the certain form or style, and that is one that we associate with Eastern Christianity.
Interestingly, it’s the Roman Catholic church that preserved iconography and encouraged the Orthodox traditions to reclaim their heritage — what we think of now is mostly a revival, not the ancient form.
But there is the generic meaning of icon, which is, simply, sacred image. And I thought that Ratzinger’s discussion was illuminating as it encourages us to make the distinction between (among other things) sacred art and religious art. This distinction goes back to the other discussion about devotion vs. liturgy — between what relates to the individual and his personal and unique relationship to God and the saints, and what relates to the universal and serene worship of God.
Sacred art must pertain to the latter.
That’s why Ratzinger says that the exact depiction of the likeness doesn’t matter as much as conveying the sanctity of the person and, especially, in some fashion, the wholeness of the redemption. So, for instance, while a person might have a particular devotion to the Nativity of Christ, an image depicting that event would not be considered sacred if it did not have something in it of the crucifixion and the resurrection. But some very sweet image that didn’t have those elements might be fine for personal devotion.
The discussion of the other art forms — stained glass and sculpture (or bas-relief) — shows us that it’s not just a painting that can be considered sacred art. The elements have to be there, but then creativity takes them to the heights. As Ratzinger says, in no way does the West have to repudiate the vastness of artistic expression — it’s just a matter of (again, that word!) “orienting” it. Orientation is everything!
Lisa G. says
Thank you! I had no idea of “sacred” art having to show all the parts (so to speak) of redemption. hmm
Katie Jo says
this is all new to me. I am a new Anglican and have read your blog for some years.
I don’t actually prefer this sort of art and don’t really get it…I want to…I have an icon my priest gave me and I have seen others but just don’t get it…
I don’t even pretend to understand all that you wrote, but some was really helpful.
Thanks for pouring so much into this.
Leila says
Katie Jo, I really appreciate your comment, I really do!
I appreciate what is there, I think… what economists call the “known unknowns”… you sense that there is something but you are not sure what it is.
I totally relate to this. For so many years I had no idea what sacred art is or why I should care.
I was dimly aware that I had preferences — and that other people had preferences as well, only theirs sometimes were completely unacceptable to me — and vice versa!
We just have to keep asking questions and be humbly realizing that the Church has wisdom — we need to read, over and over, what she says on the subject. We must keep asking ourselves (as we, as a society, have clearly lost the answer), “What is worship?” “What is sacred?” “How can we tell?”
And as much as I have been reading about all these things for YEARS, I freely admit that I have to re-read each of these chapters about four times before I can write about them.
Honestly, I wish I had more time and space to include more examples. Maybe I will do that at the end. It’s one thing to set out principles and it’s another to look at or listen to actual examples of time-honored art or music that are sacred.
Do remember that we are not required to love icons. Ratzinger makes clear in this chapter that the West does not have to jettison its art! I have found that icons speak to me more as I learn more (isn’t that always the way?). But there are many other art forms that express the sacred. Keep looking!
Thank you for commenting!