It was in the
tenth century
that Prince Vladimir of Kiev
decided that his nation needed a religion. To that end, the Prince sent
his
ambassadors out to investigate the religious landscape of the time. He
instructed them to come back with recommendations as to which religion
was the
best religion. He sent some ambassadors to the Muslims, some to the
Byzantines,
some to the Catholics and others to the Jews. Upon return each
ambassador
reported his findings to the Prince.
It was the
ambassadors who
visited the basilica of Hagia Sophia
in Constantinople who returned with
the most
fabulous story. They reported that when they were within the basilica,
it was
so splendidly beautiful, they did not know if they were in Heaven or on
Earth.
Upon hearing
this report,
Prince Vladimir concluded that God surely dwells with the Orthodox,
since God
and beauty are one. Prince Vladimir promptly converted and Russia
has been Orthodox ever since.
Beauty is of
God and beauty
is God … and God is beautiful.
In your mind’s
eye imagine
Leonardo da Vinci’s The Last Supper.
A fresco, painted on the
wall of a monastic refectory in Milan,
it depicts Jesus sharing his last meal with the disciples. The colors
are soft
grays, blues, greens and reds. Leonardo captures the moment just after
Christ
tells his apostles that one of them will betray him. The effect of his
words
causes a visible wave of emotion among his followers at the table.
Despite the
dramatic reaction of his followers, Christ remains serene: a
self-composed
figure alone in the middle, his head framed by a halo-like window
behind him.
It was the
beauty of Jesus –
of his life and witness – that inspired Leonardo to achieve one of the
great
masterpieces of the high Renaissance.
Now, in your
mind’s eye
visualize Michelangelo’s Pieta.
Housed in St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, the marble statue
depicts Mary holding in her
arms and draped across her lap the limp body of Jesus just after he has
been
taken down from the cross. The mother’s anguish is every mother’s
nightmare.
The tilt of her
head, the
folds of the cloth, the draped body … all combine to form a stunningly
wrought
piece of art … a block of marble through which are glimpsed both the
human
condition and the munificence of God.
Now, conjure in
your mind’s
eye illuminated pages from the medieval Book
of Kells (brilliant reds and blues, shining gold) …
now imagine the vivid images of hell, of
pilgrimage and of paradise painted in words and poetry in the pages of
Dante’s Divine Comedy … now ,with the ears of
your memory, summon the stirring music
of Handel’s Messiah.
None who has
ever walked the
earth has inspired more art – and more sublime art – than Jesus of
Nazareth, a Galilean
peasant. Why? What it is about Jesus that has inspired the greatest art
the
world has known?
Christians
claim that in
Jesus we can actually see and discern something of God. We claim that
in and
through Jesus we glimpse the beauty of holiness, the grandeur of deep
serenity,
the loveliness of truth, the bonds of love, the magnificence of mercy,
the
excellence of humility, the grace of pure generosity.
In Jesus, God
sends us a muse
so powerful and so evocative he has inspired men and women across the
centuries
to pour themselves out … authoring beauty in art and music, in
literature and
in life, in courage and passion, in mercy and love.
The beauty
Jesus inspires is
more than skin-or canvas- deep. In those who fall under his spell, he
inspires
a beauty that is soul-deep … the kind of soul-deep, self-emptying
beauty of St.
Francis of Assisi responding to Christ’s call to a life of poverty … or
the
soul-deep majesty of Dr. King’s dream of justice … or the soul-deep
grandeur of
Archbishop Oscar Romero’s passion for the poor of San Salvador.
Two years ago
we were stunned
to learn of a murderous rampage visited upon an Amish community in
rural Pennsylvania.
A gunman
entered the community’s one-room schoolhouse. Execution style, he
gunned down
students. The horror of the murders was widely reported.
But what
reverberated around
the world – what captured our attention because of its sublime beauty
-- was
the Amish community’s act of forgiveness. They defied the ways of a
retributive
world. They refused to meet violence with violence.
The Amish are a
people
apprenticed to Jesus, tutored in the life of Christ. Onto a canvas
stained with
blood and anguish, the Amish painted with sure and deft strokes the
colors of God’s
deepest beauty.
The Christian
community is a
community of artists: under the spell of Christ we sculpt and mold
ourselves
into God’s works of art.
I promise you
this: if we let
Christ have his way with us he will stir us from our grogginess. He
will awaken
us to the wonder and heart of God. He will lift us – even us – to the
beauty of
holiness.
