Faith Matters - Westminster Cathedral Hall - 28th February 2013
Archbishop George Stack
O worship the Lord in the beauty of holiness!
Bow down before him, his glory proclaim;
With gold of obedience, and incense of lowliness,
Kneel and adore him, the Lord is his name.
(Hymn for Epiphany - Hymns Ancient and Modern)
The remote preparation for this talk began some four year ago when I came back to the Communications Office at
Archbishop’s House Westminster enthusing about an exhibition I had just been to see. It was called “Cross Purposes” –
Shock and Contemplation in Images of the Crucifixion. Don’t be surprised if you haven’t heard of this exhibition! It was
held in Mascall’s Gallery, a small art gallery attached to a school in Petts Wood, Kent.
Before going on to describe the artistic coup pulled off by Mascall’s Gallery, let me read you an excerpt from the
introduction to the catalogue by Lord Harries of Pentregarth, former Bishop of Oxford and Gresham, Honorary Professor of
Theology at Kings College:
"For much of Christian history there has been a close association between forms of Platonism and the Christian faith. This
has meant that God has been thought of as sublime beauty, as well as perfect goodness and absolute truth. So St. Augustine
quite naturally addresses God as "0 though beauty most ancient and so rare". But if marks of beauty are wholeness, harmony
and radiance, as Aquinas thought, how can art depict the bleakness and suffering of life? Either the beauty of the art will be
so consoling it will cheapen the reality of the suffering: Or the hurt and ugliness will be so stark that there will seem little
wholeness, harmony or radiance at work"
The exhibition attempted to address that question which lies at the heart especially of religious art. Here is a list of some of
the artists who were exhibited at “Cross Purposes”: Gilbert Spencer, David Jones, Eric Gill, Graham Sutherland and Tracey
Emin. A special joy for me was to see The Crucifixion by our own Roy de Maistre. I say our own, because in the Long
Corridor of Westminster Cathedral is the series of a Stations of the Cross by de Maistre. de Maistre was born in New South
Wales in 1894. He came to London in 1926 and converted to Catholicism in 1951. His art is described as in figurative style,
influenced by cubism and especially by Pablo Picasso. He was commissioned to produce his Stations for Westminster
Cathedral by Mgr. Gordon Wheeler. (There is an excellent article about his work by Patrick Rogers in this month’s edition
of “Oremus”, the magazine of Westminster Cathedral). Here we have an original Crucifixion donated to me by one of his
godsons when I was Cathedral Administrator. Just one quotation from the catalogue describing this painting “…..the torso of
Christ…achieves a fine balance between passion and decorative control. The piercing lines and distorting geometric forms
of the body not only convey the feeling of writhing agony but also give the impression of control and power. It also
represents the complexity of de Maistre’s deep faith in Christ, not as meek and loving, but as a Source of Strength”.
As I said, my first reason for being so excited by that exhibition was the extraordinary collection of artists exhibited there.
My second is a continued conviction that the cross lies at the crossroads of human experience. The universal question of the
meaning, or contradiction, of human suffering has a key to unlock it in the crucifixion and death of Jesus Christ.
The famous Holocaust survivor, Elie Weisel, wrote of his experience in Auschwitz:
"Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I
forget those things, even if I am condemned to live as long
as God Himself'. In response, the Chief Rabbi, Jonathan Sacks wrote: "But to whom could one speak of these things so much
larger than man, if not to God?...If God existed, how was Auschwitz possible? But if God did not exist, how was humanity
after Auschwitz credible?"
I quote from Jonathan Sacks because another revelation of the exhibition was the portrayal of the crucifixion by Jewish
artists through the prism of the Holocaust. In the catalogue you will see pictures by Samuel Bak, Emmannel Levy and Marc
Chagall. David Glasser, the Chairman of the London Jewish Museum of Art, defended the displaying of “Cross Purposes”
when it moved to his museum by asking “whether crucifixion within an artistic context was, and is, an exclusively Christian
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experience and solely part of Christian iconography”. He continued “Shock and Contemplation is hugely enhanced by these
artists distancing themselves from traditional iconography to present a contemporary and Jewish Jesus on the cross”.
You only have to remember the great exhibition “Seeing Salvation” at the National Gallery for the Millennium Year 2000 to
realise that “Images of Christ throughout the ages” still have a profound impact on the modern mind and imagination. The
introduction to the catalogue is one of the best essays I have read on the whole subject of sign, symbol and sacrament. It
reminds us:
“Early Christians did not represent the person of Jesus, believing that he was the Messiah, the Anointed One……Since this
was based on the scripture, the written word of God, the earliest images were created out of written letters and word signs, or
were visual translations of the verbal imagery of the Bible.
But if Christ’s holy otherness could most forcefully be represented through signs and symbol, the other compelling reason
was the Jewish custom of not trying to portray the image of God, based on the commandment given to Moses forbidding the
worship of idolatrous images”.
I was going to move from “Seeing Salvation” to “Treasures of Heaven” mounted in the British Museum from June to
October 2011. The whole world of relics and reliquaries were subject to creative examination during that exhibition. Just
one hint of its impact is that this magnificent catalogue is now out in print! Once again, the theological essays which
introduce it are worthy of study in themselves. Allow me to quote just one concluding paragraph:
"It is striking that the ersatz religions of the modern era created their own relics, in the case of the Nazis the monument for
the "blood heroes" on the Konigsplatz in Munich. The embalmed body of Lenin, near the wall of the Kremlin in Moscow,
(and not forgetting the body of President Marcos in the Philipines".)
I want to move from Treasures of Heaven to “The Sacred Made Real” an exhibition of Spanish painting and sculpture of the
17th and 18th centuries held in the National Gallery, via another detour to the British Museum via Radio Four. “A History of
the World in a Hundred Objects” has proved an extraordinarily successful program, tracing the movement of objects from
their origins to their present day location in the British Museum. The Holy Thorn Reliquary made of gold, jewels and
enamel from Paris, France in 1350. Notre Dame, via Sainte-Chapelle via Hapsburg Empire and donated to the British
Museum by Baron de Rothschild in 1898.
To quote the radio commentary:
“(The Holy Thorn) …… certainly becomes a focus for reflection on deeper things as to the cost of suffering especially when
you think that if that thorn is authentic, then it was actually piercing the head of Christ during the course of his suffering and
his crucifixion, and in some way connects our suffering on this earth to his suffering for us. The focus gives us strength to
endure all things that we are presently experiencing”.
The world of Medieval devotion may seem precisely that until you see the cross explored not just by theologians but by
contemporary artists. And not just by artists, but by people who integrate suffering into the everyday circumstances of life.
“Suffering is a waste of time”, many people will say. “No time is wasted in which God is served” says the believer.
The world of 19th century heroic sanctity and devotion has been re-interpreted through 20th/21st century eyes with the visit of
the relics of St. Theresa of Lisieux, St John Vianney and most recently of St. John Bosco. Is the extraordinary reaction to
these “Pilgrimages” a small expression of “the Sacred made Real” in our own age and in our own Cathedrals?
I hope you will forgive my mentioning The Times columnist, Matthew Paris and his visit to Westminster Cathedral to see the
relics of St. Therese of Lisieux. He called himself a Protestant atheist having read the instructions on indulgences and the
poster reading "Lighting a candle is a prayer". "No it isn't” he wrote in his column. But he also wrote he had witnessed a
miracle in the Cathedral - Tony Blair was visiting the relics too! His piece on the faith and devotion of people to these signs
of the transcendent is a telling reflection on what we mean by the importance of symbol in the life of faith.
Even though this symbolic world was frowned upon in the Age of Reason, I believe it has come back to us, not least in the
language of psychotherapy. I think particularly of the work of the Swiss analyst, Carl Jung, (1875-1961) who used dream
analysis, amongst other things, to relate symbols to individual and collective experiences. Although his use of “archetypes”
in our thinking, and dreaming and praying are still debated in the analytical psychological community, there is a deep seated
need for the integration of the personality as a whole. The balance of body, mind and spirit, to use shorthand language. John
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Betjeman used the language of melody when he called hymns “poems of the people”. “O worship the Lord in the beauty of
holiness”.
This talk rather grandiosely claims to make a presentation on art, music, poetry and architecture in the world of sign, symbol
and sacrament which is such an identifying feature of Catholic Christianity. I would like to share one novel and one poem as
a bridge to “A Glimpse of Heaven” which should characterise the architecture of our churches and their decoration. This
will form the last part of what I want to say.
The first is an extract from Evelyn Waugh’s novel “Helena” about the mother of the Emperor Constantine. She went in
search of the relics of the true cross in Jerusalem. She also describes the Christmas liturgy in Bethlehem. On her way, she
sees the bearded priests in procession. In the midst the smell of the incense and the smoke rising during the prayers, she
imagines the arrival of the Three Wise Men. She says:"Like me, you were late in coming. The shepherds were here before you. Even the cattle. They had joined the chorus of
angels before you were on your way. You came at last to the final stage of your journey. What did you do? You stopped to
call on King Herod. Deadly exchange of compliments that began unended war of mobs and magistrates against the
innocents".
My piece of poetry comes from Edwin Muir and is called “The Incarnate One”. It describes the rupture which was the
Protestant Reformation and its concentration on the word to the detriment of the sacrament, as Catholics would see it. The
telling lines are:The Word made flesh here is made word again,
A word made word in flourish and arrogant crook.
See there King Calvin with his iron pen,
And God three angry letters in a book,
And there the logical hook
On which the Mystery is impaled and bent
Into an ideological instrument.
I mentioned Marc Chagall (1887-1985) as a Jewish artist displayed in the “Cross Purposes” exhibition. I first came across
his beautiful windows at the Hadassah medical centre in the Hebrew university in Jerusalem. It is situated in a village called
Ein Karem in a south west suburb of Jerusalem. For the Christians, this place is regarded as the birthplace of John the
Baptist. These windows depict the twelve tribes of Israel. But much of his art has a depiction of the crucifixion of Jesus.
Just a mile away from Mascall’s Gallery in Petts Wood is the small village of Tudeley with its tiny Anglican church. Inside
is one of the most stunning and intimate moments of modernist stained glass. In 1976 Sarah, the daughter of Sir Henry and
Lady d’Avydor was drowned in a boating accident near Rye, East Sussex. Sir Henry and his wife were great admirers of
Chagall and over the next 20 years persuaded, cajoled, bullied Chagall to replace all twelve windows in this tiny church.
The sanctuary window depicts the drowning of Sarah, the other
twelve were inspired by Psalm 8:4-8: “When I see the heavens that you have made, the sun and moon which you have
created. What is man that you should keep him in mind. Mortal man that you should care for him?”
Whilst Marc Chagall is a great inspiration to me with his stained glass windows which give a "glimpse of heaven", I don't
want to leave out the Victorian Sir Edward Burne Jones of the pre-Raphaelite movement. His glass decorates many of our
Victorian and Edwardian churches. And I couldn't let this moment pass without mentioning the work of my favourite glass
maker, John Piper. You only have to go to Coventry Cathedral, to St. Margaret's Westminster and the memorial to Benjamin
Britten in Aldeburgh, as well as Llandaff near where I live to see the richness of his work. In the midst of all that figurative
glass work, we mustn’t forget either the complex patterns of Byzantium as seen in the windows of Westminster Cathedral.
In the preface to “Glimpses of Heaven” produced by the Bishops’ Conference of England Wales together with English
Heritage, Sir Neil Cossons, writes:
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“The Catholic clergy and congregations are in remarkably good heart, continuing to cherish the building they have inherited
from their parents and grandparents and holding them in trust for their children and their grandchildren”. Writing in the
same vein, Cardinal Cormac Murphy O’Connor says:
“Spaces are as important as buildings, so architecture has its own particular and important part to play in creating space for
meeting, a space for humanity, a space for the sacred. The noble purpose of architecture is about meeting and
communicating about our humanity and, in some circumstances, about raising the human mind and heart to the Creator of all
things”.
I think this is what Cardinal Basil Hume meant when he used to say “Cathedrals and Churches are not just places in which
we worship God, but with which we worship God”. Westminster Cathedral is certainly such a place, described by John
Betjeman as “A Series of Surprises”. The present Archbishop of Westminster, Vincent Nichols, continues to explore “The
Great Mosaic project” which demands reflection on the theological, spiritual and artistic foundations such a project entails.
It demands a profound exploration between beauty and truth. He writes “Beauty, in its form and splendor, is a glimpse of the
whole (the unity of creation, its symmetry, its hidden glory) within the fragment … Beauty is not analysed but “guarded in
silence” … Yet beauty is transforming only when it confronts the darkness and evil of this world”.
Perhaps nowhere is the link between sign and symbol, light and darkness, music and silence so graphically displayed than it
is during the singing of the Exultet on Easter Night. Gail Redshaw's account of the Vigil shows how the church has grounded
itself in ritualized poetics when she writes:
"An example of the poetry that is liturgical language is the Exultet ....Here in the middle of the night a single burning candle
is lauded as the greatest light the world has seen. Rather than talk about Christ and the resurrection, the chant sings of the
light and the night. The light is "the splendour of the eternal King", and it shines brightly throughout the world enrobing the
church in its fire. The candle is an icon before us, becoming other than it is, receiving us other than we are, as the chant
transforms the words into other than they appear. . . In perhaps the most dizzy collage of images, the morning star arises
from the grave to find one single candle burning, vanquishing the night and itself becoming a beacon of light. Where our
recently purchased paschal candle stops and where Christ takes over, it is impossible to say ........ (1)
Let me conclude with three short extracts from the letter written by Pope John Paul II to artists in the Millennium Year:
The artist, image of God the Creator
None can sense more deeply than you artists, ingenious creators of beauty that you are, something of the pathos with which
God at the dawn of creation looked upon the work of his hands. A glimmer of that feeling has shone so often in your eyes
when- like the artists of every age-captivated by the hidden power of sound and words, colors and shapes, you have admired
the work of your inspiration, sensing in it some echo of the mystery of creation with which God, the sole Creator of all
things, has wished in some way to associate you.
The artistic vocation in the service of beauty
Those who perceive in themselves this kind of divine spark which is the artistic vocation – as poet, writer, sculptor, architect,
musician, actor and so on - feel at the same time the obligation not to waste this talent but to develop it, in order to put it at
the service of their neighbour and of humanity as a whole.
Art and the mystery of the Word made Flesh
Every genuine artistic intuition goes beyond what the senses perceive and, reaching beneath reality's surface, strives to
interpret its hidden mystery.
Every genuine inspiration, however, contains some tremor of that "breath" with which the Creator spirit suffused the work of
creation from the very beginning.
"We are God's work of art, created in Christ Jesus for the good works which God Has already
designated to make up our way of life.
(Paul's letter to the Ephesians chapter 2 verse 10).
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Gail Ramshaw – Worship Searching for Language (Pastoral Press 1988).
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NOTES
1.
Before and after the Reformation – Survivors and Successors – St Etheldreda’s Holborn (1300). St Amand’s
East Hendred (1256). Stoner chapel reford (1350) Slipper chapel Walsingham (1360) Fitzalan chapel, Arundel
Castle (1380). Wardour Castle (1776). Lulworth (1786).
2.
After Emancipation- New churches for a New People. St Winefred’s, Holywell – Clwyd (1832). St Francis
Xavier, Hereford (1838) St Antony’s Scotland Road (1832). St Patrick, Park Place, Liverpool (1824).
NONCONFORMIST – CLASSICAL.
3.
Pugin and his Followers – the enchantments of the Gothic style (1812-52). Oscott. St Chad’s, St Barnabas,
St Giles, Cheadle. St Augustine’s, Ramsgate. Salford (Hadfield), Greenwich (Hadfield). Idealised age of
Gothic. Perfection. History. Transcendent. Nuclear.
4.
The Great Catholic Revival. St Walburga’s, Preston (Hansm). Farm St (Scoles) Pottery Lane (Clutton and
Bentley) Holy Nave of Jesus, Manchester (Hansom) St Dominic’s, Haverstock Hill (Buckler) (Blevist)
5.
Alternative to Gothic. Romanesque – Ultramoutane – Faber. Classic – Birminham Oratory. London Oratory
– “Almost as many places as the fathers (Gribble) Byzantine.
6.
The Late Goths. St John the Baptist, Norwich. Norfolk & Flora, Hastings. Scott Jr. (1894). St David’s
Cathedral, Cardiff (1884-87). Our Lady & the English Martyrs, Cambridge – Dunn & Hansom (1885). St
James, Spanish Place (1887). Edward Goldie. Opus Sectile. Holy Road, Watford (1889) A masterpiece.
Perfection. Continuing vitality of the late 19th Century Gothoic revival, re-invigorated by the Arts & Crafts
movement.
7.
Monks, Schools & Seminaries. Belmont (1854-1860) – Pugin inspired. Downside, Buckfast, Quarr,
Ampleforth (Giles Gilbert Scott 1925-61).
8.
The Architecture of change.
COHERENCE
“PRAYER” by Carol Anne Duffy
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of the hand and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.
Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in that distant Latin chanting of a train.
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Pray for us now. Grade one piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they claimed their loss.
Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer
Rockall, Malin, Dogger, Finisterre.
“THE INCARNATE ONE” by Edwin Muir
The windless northern surge, the sea-gull's scream,
And Calvin's kirk crowning the barren brae.
I think of Giotto the Tuscan shepherd's dream,
Christ, man and creature in their inner day.
How could our -race betray
The Image, and the Incarnate One unmake
Who chose this form and fashion for our sake?
The Word made flesh here is made word again,
A word made word in flourish and arrogant crook.
See there King Calvin with his iron pen,
And God three angry letters in a book,
And there the logical hook
On which the Mystery is impaled and bent
Into an ideological instrument.
There's better gospel in man's natural tongue,
And truer sight was theirs outside the Law
Who saw the far side of the Cross among
The archaic peoples in their ancient awe,
In ignorant wonder saw
The wooden cross-tree on the bare hillside,
Not knowing that there a God suffered and died.
The fleshless word, growing, will bring us down,
Pagan and Christian man alike will fall,
The auguries say, the white and black and brown,
The merry and sad, theorist, lover, all
Invisibly will fall:
Abstract calamity, save for those who can
Build their cold empire on the abstract man.
A soft breeze stirs and all my thoughts are blown
Far out to sea and lost. Yet I know well
The bloodless word will battle for its own
Invisibly in brain and nerve and cell.
The generations tell
Their personal tale: the One has far to go
Past the mirages and the murdering snow.
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