Pope Francis and Preaching Beauty
Earlier this month, my wife and I took a Covid-delayed anniversary trip to Italy. Providentially, it was combined with a once-in-lifetime visit to the Vatican with Pope Francis and a small group of international artists to talk about the unique redemptive role that art, in its various forms, can play in our lives.
In preparation for the trip, we watched the wonderful film “The Two Popes” about the relationship between Pope Francis and Pope Benedict. Without revealing any spoilers, the film depicts the Popes as developing mutual respect and earnest friendship, despite their differences.
I was struck that they allowed what they have in common, their faith, to overshadow these differences. In these trying times, when our slightest disagreements erupt into virtual cage fights, it was refreshing to see that agreeing to disagree agreeably is still possible and that stories which model this are critical to shaping our imagination of what is possible.
I think this is what Pope Francis meant, at least in part, when he called artists “preachers of beauty” and wrote in his recent Instagram post that “beauty is good for us; beauty heals; beauty helps us go forward on our journey.”
The ugly that has penetrated our culture has been a toxic pollutant in the public square: hate-filled violence of words (name calling, harassment, coarse language) and deed (cancel culture, vile intimidation, and hate-filled violence). The result has been increasing animosity between neighbors, othering, depression, and hopelessness.
I was struck that Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Argentina would be the first to name his papal seat after Saint Francis of Assisi, who was known for his love for the beauty of God’s creation (because it reflected God’s beauty), his rejection of worldly power and wealth (and association with the poor and outcast), and his efforts to pursue peace (whether between Christians or with Muslims). “Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace,” Saint Francis said. “Where there is hatred, let me sow love.”
As we prepared for the meeting about the role of art in shaping the moral imagination, I reread Pope John Paul’s 1989 Letter to Artists in which he called on them to create “epiphanies of beauty” and cited the earlier Vatican II 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!”
As we sat in silence in the Sistine Chapel, I experienced an “epiphany of beauty” that drew me toward something “other” than what I was physically seeing, toward something “better” than what I know this world can offer. Although my experience was explicitly Christian in context (Saint Francis said of Jesus “You are beauty... You are beauty!”), it reminded me of the epiphany that C. S. Lewis had as a little boy that whetted his appetite for something “more”:
Beauty, in these epiphanies, had inspired us toward a Good and True that we can’t know in an Enlightenment (cognitive reasoning) way, but we came to know through experience. In that sense, the encounters Lewis and I had were teachers.
So what kind of creative content can serve to counter the toxicity of our culture, and teach us a better way? We began our second day of meetings in the Vatican with a reading of the Beatitudes from Jesus’ sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5:
Perhaps we need more songs, stories, and other creative content that reflect the Blesseds and inspire us to lay down our lives to live like them. I started watching the new The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power, and in contrast to the anti-heroes such as Deadpool who have come to dominate much of the Marvel Universe, I was thankful for the moral clarity and beauty of the series. To me, the Hobbits in particular embody the Blesseds, and are the “salt and light” of the story.
Beauty is more than skin deep, it is even more than the Sistine Chapel. An act of kindness, a word of encouragement, a story of self-sacrifice, a song of longing, and even a cross of suffering can be beautiful.
As we enter the fall midterm elections, we can expect to see a lot of ugly on our televisions and in the news. Let’s commit to each other to counter the toxicity by sitting instead before beauty and being inspired to something “more.” We are all on a journey, may we let Beauty be a path to healing so that we can be good seasoning to the culture around us. As Jesus concluded His “blesseds” in Matthew 5: