LETTER OF HIS HOLINESS
POPE JOHN PAUL II
TO
ARTISTS
1999
To all who are passionately dedicated
to the search for new
“epiphanies” of beauty
so that through their creative work as artists
they may offer these as gifts to the world.
“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good” (Gn
1:31)
The artist, image of God the Creator
1. None can sense more deeply than you artists, ingenious creators of
beauty that you are, something of the pathos with which God at the dawn of
creation looked upon the work of his hands. A glimmer of that feeling has
shone so often in your eyes when—like the artists of every age—captivated
by the hidden power of sounds and words, colours and shapes, you have
admired the work of your inspiration, sensing in it some echo of the
mystery of creation with which God, the sole creator of all things, has
wished in some way to associate you.
That is why it seems to me that there are no better words than the text
of Genesis with which to begin my Letter to you, to whom I feel closely
linked by experiences reaching far back in time and which have indelibly
marked my life. In writing this Letter, I intend to follow the path of the
fruitful dialogue between the Church and artists which has gone on
unbroken through two thousand years of history, and which still, at the
threshold of the Third Millennium, offers rich promise for the future.
In fact, this dialogue is not dictated merely by historical accident or
practical need, but is rooted in the very essence of both religious
experience and artistic creativity. The opening page of the Bible presents
God as a kind of exemplar of everyone who produces a work: the human
craftsman mirrors the image of God as Creator. This relationship is
particularly clear in the Polish language because of the lexical link
between the words stwórca (creator) and twórca (craftsman).
What is the difference between “creator” and “craftsman”? The one who
creates bestows being itself, he brings something out of nothing—ex nihilo
sui et subiecti, as the Latin puts it—and this, in the strict sense, is a
mode of operation which belongs to the Almighty alone. The craftsman, by
contrast, uses something that already exists, to which he gives form and
meaning. This is the mode of operation peculiar to man as made in the
image of God. In fact, after saying that God created man and woman “in his
image” (cf. Gn 1:27), the Bible adds that he entrusted to them the
task of dominating the earth (cf. Gn 1:28). This was the last day
of creation (cf. Gn 1:28-31). On the previous days, marking as it
were the rhythm of the birth of the cosmos, Yahweh had created the
universe. Finally he created the human being, the noblest fruit of his
design, to whom he subjected the visible world as a vast field in which
human inventiveness might assert itself.
God therefore called man into existence, committing to him the
craftsman's task. Through his “artistic creativity” man appears more than
ever “in the image of God”, and he accomplishes this task above all in
shaping the wondrous “material” of his own humanity and then exercising
creative dominion over the universe which surrounds him. With loving
regard, the divine Artist passes on to the human artist a spark of his own
surpassing wisdom, calling him to share in his creative power. Obviously,
this is a sharing which leaves intact the infinite distance between the
Creator and the creature, as Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa made clear:
“Creative art, which it is the soul's good fortune to entertain, is not to
be identified with that essential art which is God himself, but is only a
communication of it and a share in it”.(1)
That is why artists, the more conscious they are of their “gift”, are
led all the more to see themselves and the whole of creation with eyes
able to contemplate and give thanks, and to raise to God a hymn of praise.
This is the only way for them to come to a full understanding of
themselves, their vocation and their mission.
The special vocation of the artist
2. Not all are called to be artists in the specific sense of the term.
Yet, as Genesis has it, all men and women are entrusted with the task of
crafting their own life: in a certain sense, they are to make of it a work
of art, a masterpiece.
It is important to recognize the distinction, but also the connection,
between these two aspects of human activity. The distinction is clear. It
is one thing for human beings to be the authors of their own acts, with
responsibility for their moral value; it is another to be an artist, able,
that is, to respond to the demands of art and faithfully to accept art's
specific dictates.(2) This is what makes the artist capable of producing
objects, but it says nothing as yet of his moral character. We are
speaking not of moulding oneself, of forming one's own personality, but
simply of actualizing one's productive capacities, giving aesthetic form
to ideas conceived in the mind.
The distinction between the moral and artistic aspects is fundamental,
but no less important is the connection between them. Each conditions the
other in a profound way. In producing a work, artists express themselves
to the point where their work becomes a unique disclosure of their own
being, of what they are and of how they are what they are. And there are
endless examples of this in human history. In shaping a masterpiece, the
artist not only summons his work into being, but also in some way reveals
his own personality by means of it. For him art offers both a new
dimension and an exceptional mode of expression for his spiritual growth.
Through his works, the artist speaks to others and communicates with them.
The history of art, therefore, is not only a story of works produced but
also a story of men and women. Works of art speak of their authors; they
enable us to know their inner life, and they reveal the original
contribution which artists offer to the history of culture.
The artistic vocation in the service of beauty
3. A noted Polish poet, Cyprian Norwid, wrote that “beauty is to
enthuse us for work, and work is to raise us up”.(3)
The theme of beauty is decisive for a discourse on art. It was already
present when I stressed God's delighted gaze upon creation. In perceiving
that all he had created was good, God saw that it was beautiful as
well.(4) The link between good and beautiful stirs fruitful reflection. In
a certain sense, beauty is the visible form of the good, just as the good
is the metaphysical condition of beauty. This was well understood by the
Greeks who, by fusing the two concepts, coined a term which embraces both:
kalokagathía, or beauty-goodness. On this point Plato writes: “The power
of the Good has taken refuge in the nature of the Beautiful”.(5)
It is in living and acting that man establishes his relationship with
being, with the truth and with the good. The artist has a special
relationship to beauty. In a very true sense it can be said that beauty is
the vocation bestowed on him by the Creator in the gift of “artistic
talent”. And, certainly, this too is a talent which ought to be made to
bear fruit, in keeping with the sense of the Gospel parable of the talents
(cf. Mt 25:14-30).
Here we touch on an essential point. Those who perceive in themselves
this kind of divine spark which is the artistic vocation—as poet, writer,
sculptor, architect, musician, actor and so on—feel at the same time the
obligation not to waste this talent but to develop it, in order to put it
at the service of their neighbour and of humanity as a whole.
The artist and the common good
4. Society needs artists, just as it needs scientists, technicians,
workers, professional people, witnesses of the faith, teachers, fathers
and mothers, who ensure the growth of the person and the development of
the community by means of that supreme art form which is “the art of
education”. Within the vast cultural panorama of each nation, artists have
their unique place. Obedient to their inspiration in creating works both
worthwhile and beautiful, they not only enrich the cultural heritage of
each nation and of all humanity, but they also render an exceptional
social service in favour of the common good.
The particular vocation of individual artists decides the arena in
which they serve and points as well to the tasks they must assume, the
hard work they must endure and the responsibility they must accept.
Artists who are conscious of all this know too that they must labour
without allowing themselves to be driven by the search for empty glory or
the craving for cheap popularity, and still less by the calculation of
some possible profit for themselves. There is therefore an ethic, even a
“spirituality” of artistic service, which contributes in its way to the
life and renewal of a people. It is precisely this to which Cyprian Norwid
seems to allude in declaring that “beauty is to enthuse us for work, and
work is to raise us up”.
Art and the mystery of the Word made flesh
5. The Law of the Old Testament explicitly forbids representation of
the invisible and ineffable God by means of “graven or molten image”
(Dt 27:15), because God transcends every material representation:
“I am who I am” (Ex 3:14). Yet in the mystery of the Incarnation,
the Son of God becomes visible in person: “When the fullness of time had
come, God sent forth his Son born of woman” (Gal 4:4). God became
man in Jesus Christ, who thus becomes “the central point of reference for
an understanding of the enigma of human existence, the created world and
God himself”.(6)
This prime epiphany of “God who is Mystery” is both an encouragement
and a challenge to Christians, also at the level of artistic creativity.
From it has come a flowering of beauty which has drawn its sap precisely
from the mystery of the Incarnation. In becoming man, the Son of God has
introduced into human history all the evangelical wealth of the true and
the good, and with this he has also unveiled a new dimension of beauty, of
which the Gospel message is filled to the brim.
Sacred Scripture has thus become a sort of “immense vocabulary” (Paul
Claudel) and “iconographic atlas” (Marc Chagall), from which both
Christian culture and art have drawn. The Old Testament, read in the light
of the New, has provided endless streams of inspiration. From the stories
of the Creation and sin, the Flood, the cycle of the Patriarchs, the
events of the Exodus to so many other episodes and characters in the
history of salvation, the biblical text has fired the imagination of
painters, poets, musicians, playwrights and film-makers. A figure like
Job, to take but one example, with his searing and ever relevant question
of suffering, still arouses an interest which is not just philosophical
but literary and artistic as well. And what should we say of the New
Testament? From the Nativity to Golgotha, from the Transfiguration to the
Resurrection, from the miracles to the teachings of Christ, and on to the
events recounted in the Acts of the Apostles or foreseen by the Apocalypse
in an eschatological key, on countless occasions the biblical word has
become image, music and poetry, evoking the mystery of “the Word made
flesh” in the language of art.
In the history of human culture, all of this is a rich chapter of faith
and beauty. Believers above all have gained from it in their experience of
prayer and Christian living. Indeed for many of them, in times when few
could read or write, representations of the Bible were a concrete mode of
catechesis.(7) But for everyone, believers or not, the works of art
inspired by Scripture remain a reflection of the unfathomable mystery
which engulfs and inhabits the world.
A fruitful alliance between the Gospel and art
6. Every genuine artistic intuition goes beyond what the senses
perceive and, reaching beneath reality's surface, strives to interpret its
hidden mystery. The intuition itself springs from the depths of the human
soul, where the desire to give meaning to one's own life is joined by the
fleeting vision of beauty and of the mysterious unity of things. All
artists experience the unbridgeable gap which lies between the work of
their hands, however successful it may be, and the dazzling perfection of
the beauty glimpsed in the ardour of the creative moment: what they manage
to express in their painting, their sculpting, their creating is no more
than a glimmer of the splendour which flared for a moment before the eyes
of their spirit.
Believers find nothing strange in this: they know that they have had a
momentary glimpse of the abyss of light which has its original wellspring
in God. Is it in any way surprising that this leaves the spirit
overwhelmed as it were, so that it can only stammer in reply? True artists
above all are ready to acknowledge their limits and to make their own the
words of the Apostle Paul, according to whom “God does not dwell in
shrines made by human hands” so that “we ought not to think that the Deity
is like gold or silver or stone, a representation by human art and
imagination” (Acts 17:24, 29). If the intimate reality of things is
always “beyond” the powers of human perception, how much more so is God in
the depths of his unfathomable mystery!
The knowledge conferred by faith is of a different kind: it presupposes
a personal encounter with God in Jesus Christ. Yet this knowledge too can
be enriched by artistic intuition. An eloquent example of aesthetic
contemplation sublimated in faith are, for example, the works of Fra
Angelico. No less notable in this regard is the ecstatic lauda, which
Saint Francis of Assisi twice repeats in the chartula which he composed
after receiving the stigmata of Christ on the mountain of La Verna: “You
are beauty... You are beauty!”.(8) Saint Bonaventure comments: “In things
of beauty, he contemplated the One who is supremely beautiful, and, led by
the footprints he found in creatures, he followed the Beloved
everywhere”.(9)
A corresponding approach is found in Eastern spirituality where Christ
is described as “the supremely Beautiful, possessed of a beauty above all
the children of earth”.(10) Macarius the Great speaks of the transfiguring
and liberating beauty of the Risen Lord in these terms: “The soul which
has been fully illumined by the unspeakable beauty of the glory shining on
the countenance of Christ overflows with the Holy Spirit... it is all eye,
all light, all countenance”.(11)
Every genuine art form in its own way is a path to the inmost reality
of man and of the world. It is therefore a wholly valid approach to the
realm of faith, which gives human experience its ultimate meaning. That is
why the Gospel fullness of truth was bound from the beginning to stir the
interest of artists, who by their very nature are alert to every
“epiphany” of the inner beauty of things.
The origins
7. The art which Christianity encountered in its early days was the
ripe fruit of the classical world, articulating its aesthetic canons and
embodying its values. Not only in their way of living and thinking, but
also in the field of art, faith obliged Christians to a discernment which
did not allow an uncritical acceptance of this heritage. Art of Christian
inspiration began therefore in a minor key, strictly tied to the need for
believers to contrive Scripture-based signs to express both the mysteries
of faith and a “symbolic code” by which they could distinguish and
identify themselves, especially in the difficult times of persecution. Who
does not recall the symbols which marked the first appearance of an art
both pictorial and plastic? The fish, the loaves, the shepherd: in evoking
the mystery, they became almost imperceptibly the first traces of a new
art.
When the Edict of Constantine allowed Christians to declare themselves
in full freedom, art became a privileged means for the expression of
faith. Majestic basilicas began to appear, and in them the architectural
canons of the pagan world were reproduced and at the same time modified to
meet the demands of the new form of worship. How can we fail to recall at
least the old Saint Peter's Basilica and the Basilica of Saint John
Lateran, both funded by Constantine himself? Or Constantinople's Hagia
Sophia built by Justinian, with its splendours of Byzantine art?
While architecture designed the space for worship, gradually the need
to contemplate the mystery and to present it explicitly to the simple
people led to the early forms of painting and sculpture. There appeared as
well the first elements of art in word and sound. Among the many themes
treated by Augustine we find De Musica; and Hilary of Poitiers, Ambrose,
Prudentius, Ephrem the Syrian, Gregory of Nazianzus and Paulinus of Nola,
to mention but a few, promoted a Christian poetry which was often of high
quality not just as theology but also as literature. Their poetic work
valued forms inherited from the classical authors, but was nourished by
the pure sap of the Gospel, as Paulinus of Nola put it succinctly: “Our
only art is faith and our music Christ”.(12) A little later, Gregory the
Great compiled the Antiphonarium and thus laid the ground for the organic
development of that most original sacred music which takes its name from
him. Gregorian chant, with its inspired modulations, was to become down
the centuries the music of the Church's faith in the liturgical
celebration of the sacred mysteries. The “beautiful” was thus wedded to
the “true”, so that through art too souls might be lifted up from the
world of the senses to the eternal.
Along this path there were troubled moments. Precisely on the issue of
depicting the Christian mystery, there arose in the early centuries a
bitter controversy known to history as “the iconoclast crisis”. Sacred
images, which were already widely used in Christian devotion, became the
object of violent contention. The Council held at Nicaea in 787, which
decreed the legitimacy of images and their veneration, was a historic
event not just for the faith but for culture itself. The decisive argument
to which the Bishops appealed in order to settle the controversy was the
mystery of the Incarnation: if the Son of God had come into the world of
visible realities—his humanity building a bridge between the visible and
the invisible— then, by analogy, a representation of the mystery could be
used, within the logic of signs, as a sensory evocation of the mystery.
The icon is venerated not for its own sake, but points beyond to the
subject which it represents.(13)
The Middle Ages
8. The succeeding centuries saw a great development of Christian art.
In the East, the art of the icon continued to flourish, obeying
theological and aesthetic norms charged with meaning and sustained by the
conviction that, in a sense, the icon is a sacrament. By analogy with what
occurs in the sacraments, the icon makes present the mystery of the
Incarnation in one or other of its aspects. That is why the beauty of the
icon can be best appreciated in a church where in the shadows burning
lamps stir infinite flickerings of light. As Pavel Florensky has written:
“By the flat light of day, gold is crude, heavy, useless, but by the
tremulous light of a lamp or candle it springs to life and glitters in
sparks beyond counting—now here, now there, evoking the sense of other
lights, not of this earth, which fill the space of heaven”.(14)
In the West, artists start from the most varied viewpoints, depending
also on the underlying convictions of the cultural world of their time.
The artistic heritage built up over the centuries includes a vast array of
sacred works of great inspiration, which still today leave the observer
full of admiration. In the first place, there are the great buildings for
worship, in which the functional is always wedded to the creative impulse
inspired by a sense of the beautiful and an intuition of the mystery. From
here came the various styles well known in the history of art. The
strength and simplicity of the Romanesque, expressed in cathedrals and
abbeys, slowly evolved into the soaring splendours of the Gothic. These
forms portray not only the genius of an artist but the soul of a people.
In the play of light and shadow, in forms at times massive, at times
delicate, structural considerations certainly come into play, but so too
do the tensions peculiar to the experience of God, the mystery both
“awesome” and “alluring”. How is one to summarize with a few brief
references to each of the many different art forms, the creative power of
the centuries of the Christian Middle Ages? An entire culture, albeit with
the inescapable limits of all that is human, had become imbued with the
Gospel; and where theology produced the Summa of Saint Thomas, church art
moulded matter in a way which led to adoration of the mystery, and a
wonderful poet like Dante Alighieri could compose “the sacred poem, to
which both heaven and earth have turned their hand”,(15) as he himself
described the Divine Comedy.
Humanism and the Renaissance
9. The favourable cultural climate that produced the extraordinary
artistic flowering of Humanism and the Renaissance also had a significant
impact on the way in which the artists of the period approached the
religious theme. Naturally, their inspiration, like their style, varied
greatly, at least among the best of them. But I do not intend to repeat
things which you, as artists, know well. Writing from this Apostolic
Palace, which is a mine of masterpieces perhaps unique in the world, I
would rather give voice to the supreme artists who in this place lavished
the wealth of their genius, often charged with great spiritual depth. From
here can be heard the voice of Michelangelo who in the Sistine Chapel has
presented the drama and mystery of the world from the Creation to the Last
Judgement, giving a face to God the Father, to Christ the Judge, and to
man on his arduous journey from the dawn to the consummation of history.
Here speaks the delicate and profound genius of Raphael, highlighting in
the array of his paintings, and especially in the “Dispute” in the Room of
the Signatura, the mystery of the revelation of the Triune God, who in the
Eucharist befriends man and sheds light on the questions and expectations
of human intelligence. From this place, from the majestic Basilica
dedicated to the Prince of the Apostles, from the Colonnade which spreads
out from it like two arms open to welcome the whole human family, we still
hear Bramante, Bernini, Borromini, Maderno, to name only the more
important artists, all rendering visible the perception of the mystery
which makes of the Church a universally hospitable community, mother and
travelling companion to all men and women in their search for God.
This extraordinary complex is a remarkably powerful expression of
sacred art, rising to heights of imperishable aesthetic and religious
excellence. What has characterized sacred art more and more, under the
impulse of Humanism and the Renaissance, and then of successive cultural
and scientific trends, is a growing interest in everything human, in the
world, and in the reality of history. In itself, such a concern is not at
all a danger for Christian faith, centred on the mystery of the
Incarnation and therefore on God's valuing of the human being. The great
artists mentioned above are a demonstration of this. Suffice it to think
of the way in which Michelangelo represents the beauty of the human body
in his painting and sculpture.(16)
Even in the changed climate of more recent centuries, when a part of
society seems to have become indifferent to faith, religious art has
continued on its way. This can be more widely appreciated if we look
beyond the figurative arts to the great development of sacred music
through this same period, either composed for the liturgy or simply
treating religious themes. Apart from the many artists who made sacred
music their chief concern—how can we forget Pier Luigi da Palestrina,
Orlando di Lasso, Tomás Luis de Victoria?—it is also true that many of the
great composers—from Handel to Bach, from Mozart to Schubert, from
Beethoven to Berlioz, from Liszt to Verdi—have given us works of the
highest inspiration in this field.
Towards a renewed dialogue
10. It is true nevertheless that, in the modern era, alongside this
Christian humanism which has continued to produce important works of
culture and art, another kind of humanism, marked by the absence of God
and often by opposition to God, has gradually asserted itself. Such an
atmosphere has sometimes led to a separation of the world of art and the
world of faith, at least in the sense that many artists have a diminished
interest in religious themes.
You know, however, that the Church has not ceased to nurture great
appreciation for the value of art as such. Even beyond its typically
religious expressions, true art has a close affinity with the world of
faith, so that, even in situations where culture and the Church are far
apart, art remains a kind of bridge to religious experience. In so far as
it seeks the beautiful, fruit of an imagination which rises above the
everyday, art is by its nature a kind of appeal to the mystery. Even when
they explore the darkest depths of the soul or the most unsettling aspects
of evil, artists give voice in a way to the universal desire for
redemption.
It is clear, therefore, why the Church is especially concerned for the
dialogue with art and is keen that in our own time there be a new alliance
with artists, as called for by my revered predecessor Paul VI in his
vibrant speech to artists during a special meeting he had with them in the
Sistine Chapel on 7 May 1964.(17) From such cooperation the Church hopes
for a renewed “epiphany” of beauty in our time and apt responses to the
particular needs of the Christian community.
In the spirit of the Second Vatican Council
11. The Second Vatican Council laid the foundation for a renewed
relationship between the Church and culture, with immediate implications
for the world of art. This is a relationship offered in friendship,
openness and dialogue. In the Pastoral Constitution Gaudium et Spes, the
Fathers of the Council stressed “the great importance” of literature and
the arts in human life: “They seek to probe the true nature of man, his
problems and experiences, as he strives to know and perfect himself and
the world, to discover his place in history and the universe, to portray
his miseries and joys, his needs and strengths, with a view to a better
future”.(18)
On this basis, at the end of the Council the Fathers addressed a
greeting and an appeal to artists: “This world—they said—in which we live
needs beauty in order not to sink into despair. Beauty, like truth, brings
joy to the human heart and is that precious fruit which resists the
erosion of time, which unites generations and enables them to be one in
admiration!”.(19) In this spirit of profound respect for beauty, the
Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy Sacrosanctum Concilium recalled the
historic friendliness of the Church towards art and, referring more
specifically to sacred art, the “summit” of religious art, did not
hesitate to consider artists as having “a noble ministry” when their works
reflect in some way the infinite beauty of God and raise people's minds to
him.(20) Thanks also to the help of artists “the knowledge of God can be
better revealed and the preaching of the Gospel can become clearer to the
human mind”.(21) In this light, it comes as no surprise when Father Marie
Dominique Chenu claims that the work of the historian of theology would be
incomplete if he failed to give due attention to works of art, both
literary and figurative, which are in their own way “not only aesthetic
representations, but genuine 'sources' of theology”.(22)
The Church needs art
12. In order to communicate the message entrusted to her by Christ, the
Church needs art. Art must make perceptible, and as far as possible
attractive, the world of the spirit, of the invisible, of God. It must
therefore translate into meaningful terms that which is in itself
ineffable. Art has a unique capacity to take one or other facet of the
message and translate it into colours, shapes and sounds which nourish the
intuition of those who look or listen. It does so without emptying the
message itself of its transcendent value and its aura of mystery.
The Church has need especially of those who can do this on the literary
and figurative level, using the endless possibilities of images and their
symbolic force. Christ himself made extensive use of images in his
preaching, fully in keeping with his willingness to become, in the
Incarnation, the icon of the unseen God.
The Church also needs musicians. How many sacred works have been
composed through the centuries by people deeply imbued with the sense of
the mystery! The faith of countless believers has been nourished by
melodies flowing from the hearts of other believers, either introduced
into the liturgy or used as an aid to dignified worship. In song, faith is
experienced as vibrant joy, love, and confident expectation of the saving
intervention of God.
The Church needs architects, because she needs spaces to bring the
Christian people together and celebrate the mysteries of salvation. After
the terrible destruction of the last World War and the growth of great
cities, a new generation of architects showed themselves adept at
responding to the exigencies of Christian worship, confirming that the
religious theme can still inspire architectural design in our own day. Not
infrequently these architects have constructed churches which are both
places of prayer and true works of art.
Does art need the Church?
13. The Church therefore needs art. But can it also be said that art
needs the Church? The question may seem like a provocation. Yet, rightly
understood, it is both legitimate and profound. Artists are constantly in
search of the hidden meaning of things, and their torment is to succeed in
expressing the world of the ineffable. How then can we fail to see what a
great source of inspiration is offered by that kind of homeland of the
soul that is religion? Is it not perhaps within the realm of religion that
the most vital personal questions are posed, and answers both concrete and
definitive are sought?
In fact, the religious theme has been among those most frequently
treated by artists in every age. The Church has always appealed to their
creative powers in interpreting the Gospel message and discerning its
precise application in the life of the Christian community. This
partnership has been a source of mutual spiritual enrichment. Ultimately,
it has been a great boon for an understanding of man, of the authentic
image and truth of the person. The special bond between art and Christian
revelation has also become evident. This does not mean that human genius
has not found inspiration in other religious contexts. It is enough to
recall the art of the ancient world, especially Greek and Roman art, or
the art which still flourishes in the very ancient civilizations of the
East. It remains true, however, that because of its central doctrine of
the Incarnation of the Word of God, Christianity offers artists a horizon
especially rich in inspiration. What an impoverishment it would be for art
to abandon the inexhaustible mine of the Gospel!
An appeal to artists
14. With this Letter, I turn to you, the artists of the world, to
assure you of my esteem and to help consolidate a more constructive
partnership between art and the Church. Mine is an invitation to
rediscover the depth of the spiritual and religious dimension which has
been typical of art in its noblest forms in every age. It is with this in
mind that I appeal to you, artists of the written and spoken word, of the
theatre and music, of the plastic arts and the most recent technologies in
the field of communication. I appeal especially to you, Christian artists:
I wish to remind each of you that, beyond functional considerations, the
close alliance that has always existed between the Gospel and art means
that you are invited to use your creative intuition to enter into the
heart of the mystery of the Incarnate God and at the same time into the
mystery of man.
Human beings, in a certain sense, are unknown to themselves. Jesus
Christ not only reveals God, but “fully reveals man to man”.(23) In
Christ, God has reconciled the world to himself. All believers are called
to bear witness to this; but it is up to you, men and women who have given
your lives to art, to declare with all the wealth of your ingenuity that
in Christ the world is redeemed: the human person is redeemed, the human
body is redeemed, and the whole creation which, according to Saint Paul,
“awaits impatiently the revelation of the children of God” (Rom
8:19), is redeemed. The creation awaits the revelation of the children of
God also through art and in art. This is your task. Humanity in every age,
and even today, looks to works of art to shed light upon its path and its
destiny.
The Creator
Spirit and artistic inspiration
15. Often in the Church there resounds the invocation to the Holy
Spirit: Veni, Creator Spiritus... – “Come, O Creator Spirit, visit our
minds, fill with your grace the hearts you have created”.(24)
The Holy Spirit, “the Breath” (ruah), is the One referred to already in
the Book of Genesis: “The earth was without form and void, and darkness
was on the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God was moving over the
face of the waters” (1:2). What affinity between the words “breath -
breathing” and “inspiration”! The Spirit is the mysterious Artist of the
universe. Looking to the Third Millennium, I would hope that all artists
might receive in abundance the gift of that creative inspiration which is
the starting-point of every true work of art.
Dear artists, you well know that there are many impulses which, either
from within or from without, can inspire your talent. Every genuine
inspiration, however, contains some tremor of that “breath” with which the
Creator Spirit suffused the work of creation from the very beginning.
Overseeing the mysterious laws governing the universe, the divine breath
of the Creator Spirit reaches out to human genius and stirs its creative
power. He touches it with a kind of inner illumination which brings
together the sense of the good and the beautiful, and he awakens energies
of mind and heart which enable it to conceive an idea and give it form in
a work of art. It is right then to speak, even if only analogically, of
“moments of grace”, because the human being is able to experience in some
way the Absolute who is utterly beyond.
The “Beauty” that saves
16. On the threshold of the Third Millennium, my hope for all of you
who are artists is that you will have an especially intense experience of
creative inspiration. May the beauty which you pass on to generations
still to come be such that it will stir them to wonder! Faced with the
sacredness of life and of the human person, and before the marvels of the
universe, wonder is the only appropriate attitude.
From this wonder there can come that enthusiasm of which Norwid spoke
in the poem to which I referred earlier. People of today and tomorrow need
this enthusiasm if they are to meet and master the crucial challenges
which stand before us. Thanks to this enthusiasm, humanity, every time it
loses its way, will be able to lift itself up and set out again on the
right path. In this sense it has been said with profound insight that
“beauty will save the world”.(25)
Beauty is a key to the mystery and a call to transcendence. It is an
invitation to savour life and to dream of the future. That is why the
beauty of created things can never fully satisfy. It stirs that hidden
nostalgia for God which a lover of beauty like Saint Augustine could
express in incomparable terms: “Late have I loved you, beauty so old and
so new: late have I loved you!”.(26)
Artists of the world, may your many different paths all lead to that
infinite Ocean of beauty where wonder becomes awe, exhilaration,
unspeakable joy.
May you be guided and inspired by the mystery of the Risen Christ, whom
the Church in these days contemplates with joy.
May the Blessed Virgin Mary be with you always: she is the “tota
pulchra” portrayed by countless artists, whom Dante contemplates among the
splendours of Paradise as “beauty that was joy in the eyes of all the
other saints”.(27)
“From chaos there rises the world of the spirit”. These words of Adam
Mickiewicz, written at a time of great hardship for his Polish
homeland,(28) prompt my hope for you: may your art help to affirm that
true beauty which, as a glimmer of the Spirit of God, will transfigure
matter, opening the human soul to the sense of the eternal.
With my heartfelt good wishes!
From the Vatican, 4 April 1999, Easter Sunday.
(1) Dialogus de Ludo Globi, lib. II: Philosophisch-Theologische
Schriften, Vienna 1967, III, p. 332.
(2) The moral virtues, and among them prudence in particular, allow the
subject to act in harmony with the criterion of moral good and evil:
according to recta ratio agibilium (the right criterion of action). Art,
however, is defined by philosophy as recta ratio factibilium (the right
criterion of production).
(3) Promethidion, Bogumil, vv. 185-186: Pisma wybrane, Warsaw
1968, vol. 2, p. 216.
(4) The Greek translation of the Septuagint expresses this well in
rendering the Hebrew term t(o-)b (good) as kalón (beautiful).
(5) Philebus, 65 A.
(6) JOHN PAUL II, Encyclical Letter Fides et Ratio (14 September 1998),
80: AAS 91 (1999), 67.
(7) This pedagogical principle was given authoritative formulation by
Saint Gregory the Great in a letter of 599 to Serenus, Bishop of
Marseilles: “Painting is employed in churches so that those who cannot
read or write may at least read on the walls what they cannot decipher on
the page”, Epistulae, IX, 209: CCL 140A, 1714.
(8) Lodi di Dio Altissimo, vv. 7 and 10: Fonti Francescane, No. 261,
Padua 1982, p. 177.
(9) Legenda Maior, IX, 1: Fonti Francesane, No. 1162, loc. cit., p.
911.
(10) Enkomia of the Orthós of the Holy and Great Saturday.
(11) Homily I, 2: PG 34, 451.
(12) “At nobis ars una fides et musica Christus”: Carmen 20, 31: CCL
203, 144.
(13) Cf. JOHN PAUL II, Apostolic Letter Duodecimum Saeculum (4 December
1987), 8-9: AAS 80 (1988), pp. 247-249.
(14) La prospettiva rovesciata ed altri scritti, Rome 1984, p. 63.
(15) Paradiso XXV, 1-2.
(16) Cf. JOHN PAUL II, Homily at the Mass for the Conclusion of the
Restoration of Michelangelo's Frescoes in the Sistine Chapel, 8 April
1994: Insegnamenti, XVII, 1 (1994), 899-904.
(17) Cf. AAS 56 (1964), 438-444.
(18) No. 62.
(19) Message to Artists, 8 December 1965: AAS 58 (1966), 13.
(20) Cf. No. 122.
(21) SECOND VATICAN ECUMENICAL COUNCIL, Pastoral Constitution Gaudium
et Spes, 62.
(22) La teologia nel XII secolo, Milan 1992, p. 9.
(23) SECOND VATICAN ECUMENICAL COUNCIL, Pastoral Constitution on the
Church in the Modern World Gaudium et Spes, 22.
(24) Hymn at Vespers on Pentecost.
(25) F. DOSTOYEVSKY, The Idiot, Part III, chap. 5.
(26) Sero te amavi! Pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova, sero te
amavi!: Confessions, 10, 27: CCL 27, 251.
(27) Paradiso XXXI, 134-135.
(28) Oda do mlodosci, v. 69: Wybór poezji, Wroclaw 1986, vol. 1,
p. 63.