A Spiritual View of Art
OUT OF THE WASTELAND
Several summers ago I was in the Arizona desert. It was not the time of year to be there, temperatures rising every day to over 105F, sometimes over 110.
The National Endowment for the Humanities, the chief funding agency of the U.S. government for advanced studies in the humanities, had decided to hold an institute there on the ancient Greek poet Homer. The bureaucrats decided that discussing the Iliad and the Odyssey in the desert in the summer would be what they called in their announcement an “epic experience.” It was, and in a way that was unexpected.
Surprisingly, the people who live in the desert seemed to have a heightened aesthetic sense — not just the intellectuals and artists, but ordinary people, working people. I wondered why this was.
The beauty of the desert itself was not sufficient to account for it. Where I live in California is at least as beautiful — San Francisco Bay, California coastline, redwood forests, lovely valleys. But this beauty does not seem to produce the same effect on the people who live there, at least to the same degree.
You May Also Enjoy
We have dozens of versions of the Bible and numerous canons of the Mass, and people know and love them less than when there was only one version.
Perhaps we ourselves are vampire-like, separated from God by sin, believing the ancient lie that “you shall be as gods,” harming ourselves and others.
As the children of God, we are all to be healers. If we don't claim our call to heal, the so-called healing professions will end up playing the games of power and control.