A Living Witness
I like to imagine myself as an attendee at this event, listening with eagerness and enthusiasm and feeling that smile one attains upon receiving words of support, this time from the man who would become Pope Benedict XVI. I imagine, too, that upon hearing these words within a matter of a few seconds my smile would freeze, slowly passing to a look of bewilderment and then trepidation as I mulled them further, for there is no task more difficult and no challenge more subtly posed.
According to this definition, to “evangelize” one must not only know how to teach, and teach well, but the subject of the instruction — the art of living — is rather abstract and not so easily understood. As such, it is susceptible to varying interpretations — it even risks a detour into meaningless relativism. But that cannot be right, knowing how adamant an opponent of relativism our Holy Father is. What will keep us on track is his unstated premise: that the living in question is Catholic living.
Our first and most direct response to a world in need of evangelization is to instruct others in the Gospel and Catholic Tradition. Upon this basis, we could go forth and proclaim the good news, preach, and bear witness to the Gospel and the Paschal mystery. We could teach so that knowledge of this mystery may deepen and a love for Christ blossom in the hearts of our hearers. Such work could be called “good” and admired as a noble effort, and rightly so, for the human heart thirsts for truth and yearns for knowledge. Every effort to evangelize must arise from the same foundation.
But is something more needed from us in these times? “We are moving toward a dictatorship of relativism,” Cardinal Ratzinger said just before he was elected Pope Benedict XVI. We are witnessing to people who are already bombarded with more information than humans have ever had to process in history. Is it sufficient to instruct them through textbooks or even through oral teaching? How does the art of Catholic living oppose this dictatorship of relativism? What sets apart the Catholic life and gives this life its fullest meaning?
Reaching for an Ideal
Evangelization demands something greater than transmitting information, after all; if one is going to teach the art of living, he must first know what it means to live. Indeed his understanding of what it means to live must be such that it rises to the level of an art. Evangelization, therefore, is neither simple nor one-dimensional. Norman Maclean put it best: “All good things…come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.”
Art does not come easy because the artist never achieves perfection — the writer, for example, will always edit his manuscript; the musician will always replay and rework his arrangement; the painter will always touch up his portrait. But even if a piece is complete it is never whole, for the artist is in a constant state of re-evaluation. “I should have written it like this,” he will say. Art requires nothing less than this very realization: that the artist is always pursuing an ideal; while perfection is sought, it will never be achieved. Most obviously, this is because the artist is human, but also because an artist who purports to achieve perfection yields his very craft. Art does not come easy; but art should never come easy.
This is illustrated by two paintings in the Art Institute of Chicago that are set in a rather striking juxtaposition. The first, Paris Street; Rainy Day by Gustave Caillebotte, is a three-dimensional perspective of a street painted to mathematical precision. The buildings are in perfect perspective, the streets pristine, the people meticulously dressed, and the colors of the painting are bold and as real as the setting itself. The other painting, The Assumption of the Virginis by El Greco, appears disorganized and lacks symmetry. Its colors are airy and whimsical. At the center of the painting is the Virgin Mary, but all around her is chaos — people looking every which way, bewildered and overtaken by the central event the painting seeks to capture. Unlike Rainy Day, El Greco’s painting presents an image of two worlds, this world as well as the next.
When asked which piece was more difficult to paint, the first logical thought is that Rainy Day is more difficult given its attention to detail and careful mathematical precision. But what is more difficult to capture, this world or the world beyond it? The Assumption of the Virginis captures an event that lies beyond human reason. It requires the placing of the abstract and mystical into what humans can apprehend through one of their senses. That is the essence of art. El Greco simply chose to express this miraculous event visually.
The Senses Matter
A prominent US cardinal once remarked that the Church often speaks in the abstract and therefore needs people to fit these abstractions to the minds of modern man. Art is a means by which these abstractions are fit to the minds of men, as it has been throughout the Church’s history. And so it is with the art of living as a Catholic. When we live as Catholics, we fit these abstractions to the minds of men, or you might say we incarnate (put flesh upon) the mysteries of our faith.
This art of living is a demanding claim upon a person. It urges him toward self-examination. What does it mean to live? What is the art of Catholic living? “Know yourself,” John Paul II exclaimed. This command is ancient; Socrates urged the same.
Such an examination may uncover the realization that the life of the mind is fulfilled by a faith nurtured through the senses, or as Aquinas put it, there is nothing in the mind that was not first in the senses. What is seen and heard, tasted, smelled, and touched adds layers of depth and expression to life. The doctrine of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary can certainly be read about and taught in a classroom. But it attains an even richer meaning when one stands before El Greco’s work and views with one's own eyes the artist’s visual expression of this miracle. Similarly, you can teach a child how to pray the Hail Mary, or you can teach that same prayer while placing a beautiful rosary into the child’s hands. The Solemnity of St. Joseph can be noted on a calendar, or one can celebrate it by preparing a bountiful feast complete with dishes and desserts specially prepared for that day only. The Creed can be recited monotonously at every Sunday Mass, or the beautiful sound of it emanating from the choir loft in simple chant can renew the power of its words.
The art of living finds its apt expression in the simple and the beautiful, a life in which Christ permeates not only one’s mind but every sense, indeed one’s whole being. This is the essence of the Catholic life, and always will be. The new evangelization demands nothing less.
© Copyright 2005 Catholic Exchange
Scott Noto received his B.A. in history from the University of Chicago and J.D. from Loyola University Chicago School of Law. He is a practicing lawyer who also writes on Catholicism and related issues. Mr. Noto resides in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He can be reached at [email protected].
