Extensive Beauty

 
Those of you that know me understand that I’m a bit of a movie buff. I think we all have special connections to particular art forms, and, for me, film hits me as much as any. I love the opportunity to see the finished project of what is essentially a combination of a stage play, a photography portfolio, and a symphony; all wrapped into one two-hour (three if you’re Martin Scorsese) performance.

Art is a beautiful gift from God that allows us to contemplate His glory with our human capacity to imagine and create. Some of the greatest works of art in history are directed towards praising God-- just look at Renaissance paintings, listen to musical settings of the Mass, or walk into literally any random room in the Vatican. Music, painting, and sculpture are full of examples of people using their gifts to worship the Lord.

But many times, we encounter art that isn’t praising God. Sometimes, it’s doing the exact opposite. Believe it or not, not every movie is The Passion of the Christ or God’s Not Dead. What do we do about this? Should we just reject all forms of art that aren’t explicitly Christian? Or should we just say, “welp, too bad!” and just engage superficially with any and every piece of art that comes our way?

I like watching movies because they so vividly portray the human experience. We watch a character change along the course of a plotline, react physically and emotionally to events in their life, and sometimes even get a window into their inner thoughts. A good movie will immerse you and make you feel like you’re right there. But, even in the most immersive movies, we are removed from the world of the particular characters. With this distance, we are invited to reflect on the choices of these people and to intimately try and understand them. What then, is this experience, other than a window into the experience of God, with his divine sight?

Even in the most secular, non-religious movies, I have found enormous evidence for the common human thirst for God. Even though the writers, directors, and actors have no intention of including the Lord in their films, they can’t help but inject them with their raw and honest human experience, which is ultimately rooted in our common purpose: knowing Christ.

One that I specifically remember is American Beauty. Be warned -- it is very R-rated -- but American Beauty is about a group of people who thirst for intimacy, purpose, and meaning in their lives, grasping desperately at whatever they can to fill their inner void. God is never mentioned, but by the end of the movie, you can tell the filmmakers are on the right track. Some other films that come to mind are Short Term 12, Ex Machina, The Truman Show, and 1917, but almost every movie I’ve ever watched (and I watched 121 in 2019 alone) has something to say about the human person-- whether it shows us the things that lead us towards God, or, as in many cases, it shows us the things that turn us away.

What we learn from this is that God is not confined to the parameters we set on him. He is not limited to acting only when we call upon Him. God is everywhere, waiting for us to let Him in. This means we can seek him out outside of Mass, outside of the rosary, outside of only watching Veggie Tales and The Passion. And this is not to diminish the value of these more explicit encounters with God-- in fact, it does the opposite, because we develop all the more grateful for how God generously reveals Himself so clearly to us in those places. However, we also have the opportunity to find Him in the less obvious places. We just have to look.

There’s, of course, a line to be drawn. Many works of art are obscene and aren’t worth our time. But there are a lot that are-- and we can learn an enormous amount from those. So, next time you’re listening to your favorite pop song, looking at a Picasso, or giggling at a Netflix rom-com, ask yourself these questions-- What does this tell me about the human person-- about our desires, our brokenness, about where we find completion? And, ultimately, where is the Lord speaking to me at this moment? The answer may surprise you.