Why Art Must be Sacred

The twentieth-century gleam of lights dimmed suddenly, leaving only the ancient reverberation of candlelight on the walls of the 15th century cathedral. Choristers were gathered in the very highest portions of the grand old building, slowly floating the opening strains of "Silent Night" down onto the people below.

In mid-phrase, the immense organ boomed suddenly, shaking the very stones of the cathedral as lights revealed another choir which had snuck-up to the main stage. And so it went for over three hours on the evening of February 2nd, in Sczecin, Poland (Christmas is celebrated from Dec 25th-to Feb 2nd here, unlike our early American start.)

All sacred music and carols, performed with the expressed intent of inspiring the highest emotions in the audience before them. Even more shocking to me as an American was the fact that the main choir came from a secular state university. It was one of the many refreshing differences I have found in this country which is still unafraid to believe and to proclaim that belief in the public square.

I was also struck by the profound aesthetic experience of it all, and this brings me to the main point in this blog. Such high art, performed so well, would have lost the majority of its power if it were simply relegated to the realm of "aesthetic experience." Aesthetic experience, divorced from religious sentiment, becomes nothing more than the enjoyment of our biological reaction to beautiful sound. The reason art must be sacred is quite simple: because it is precisely the sacredness possible in art -- what Ives and others termed the "transcendent" element of their craft" -- that gives it meaning. The divorce of art, science, and public policy from the realm of faith has neutered these endeavors, making them self-serving and ultimately aimless beyond the immediate satisfaction of carnal needs.

Simply put, people of faith are able to hear "something much, much more" in Ives' Concord Sonata, in Beethoven's 7th Symphony, or in Gorecki's third symphony.

I left the Mysterium concert joyful, yet feeling a profound sense of loss for my own country. How can it be that a nation founded by believers could lack such public expressions of the cornerstone of our great society?

In a world that teaches me that I am no more than an animal, I was reminded that I am certainly much more than the flesh which contains me. I was reminded of desires that move beyond the carnal, of thoughts that move beyond the psychological oversimplifications of neo-Darwinists, and of an origin and destiny which my soul yearns to acknowledge even if the world seeks to forget.

This is how art once inspired the best in people.

Such inspiration cannot rise from the personal or the carnal, but rather must come from above. It is in this arena that much modern creativity has failed, and it is little wonder that so many remain indifferent to the self-centered ramblings of eccentrics choosing to remain on the fringe of society. Simply put, it doesn't have to be this way.

We already have the right answer, but are too stubborn to embrace it.