Art and Fatih

Because of my education I usually and unconsciously join reading words and books with religious faith.  The post-Vatican II era and the 20th and 21st  centuries have brought unprecedented scholarship of the Word of God--the Hebrew and Christian scriptures which comprise the Bible.  There are more working and publishing theologians today than in the entirety of the 2,000 years of the church.  We listen to the teachings of Jesus in the gospels, read the writings of the popes and bishop and the reflections of the authentic spiritual writers of our day.

But I don't usually connect art and faith.  To past generations, when only 1% or less of the population could read, faith was communicated through art.  This was brought home to me many years ago when I met a priest who was the assistant director of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception in Washington, D.C.  He described his church as "a catechism in stone and glass."  That  struck me.  If you didn't know how to read, you could look at the stained glass images which portrayed scenes from the bible.  You could see the images of the saints, through statues, frescoes or windows, with their symbols of faith:  St. Peter and the keys of the kingdom; St. Paul and the sword of the word; St. Sebastian and his arrows; the Blessed Virgin Mary in all her cultural and maternal expressions.  

There are 43 side altars in the Basilica representing various ethnic groups who have immigrated to our country.  I remember the first time I took mom and dad to the Basilica, when I was studying at St. Mary's Seminary in Baltimore.  Mom proudly dragged me to the Slovenian grotto and shrine in the crypt, with its image of Our Lady of  Brezje (Mary our help).   She told me how as a young girl her Slovenian pastor at St. Mary Assumption Parish, 57th street in the Lawrenceville neighborhood of Pittsburgh, took up collections from the poor parishioners, and sent the money to Washington for the creation of this small but exquisite altar and image. 

When taking the tour of the museum of Melk Abbey, on the Danube River in Austria, we saw many beautiful and historic pieces of art. 

Melk Cross, 1362

"Ecce Homo," 1502

St. Kolomon monstrance, 1752

But one image caught my eye, and the eye of faith.  It is a wooden crucifix, from the 12th century, done by an unknown woodcarver. 

Somehow this image struck me.  How many folks--monks, abbots, townspeople, emperors, poor people--gazed on this image of Christ on the cross?  What did they think?  What did they feel?  Did they see the sacrifice of his life in this stylized image?  Did they come closer to knowing Christ as their savior, their helper, their God?

What images of art touch you?  Do any of them lead you to deeper faith in  God--Father, Son and Spirit?