All Saint's Day

I am a Lutheran and so, denominationally, possess the antagonism of a five century rivalry with the Catholic church. That rivalry partly stems from an insistence on substance over the form. Inherent in all strains of protestantism is the deep suspicion of anything that could threaten the freeness of mercy in exchange for a mysticism or earned salvation. That suspicion is especially vital in the Lutheran church. I am happy for that and strongly support it.

That preamble is to absolve myself of everything else I am about to say in this post.

The art at the beginning of this post is Albrecht Dürer's, All Saint's Day and is an example of all the different ways that I am absolutely in love with "High Church". For the purposes of this discussion I am using high church to mean ornate liturgy with a strong emphasis on the aesthetic. Also before continuing, I'd make a note that I am restraining this discussion to art, rather than doctrine or the doctrine of art.

I think all art is instructive, though perhaps not always teaching us good things. If we define value as society's preference for a thing, then there can be no dispute that gradual consensus ultimately measures the value of art. That may not be very accurate, but it is convenient and for our purposes, functional. The only way art survives time is if a society values it. And its proliferation roughly gauges the level of value assigned to it. Conversely, if a society values art and values it highly, it will be highly popular for a very long time.

These two variables are a fairly reliable criterion: time and popularity. Many things may be very popular for a little while, and some things may linger for a long while. Very few things can be very populare for a long while.

The reason for that rabbit trail is that the only things that can meet these criteria are things that instruct. Whether they instruct us as to the fundamental and nuanced realities of life or of the equally essential realities of our souls; good art is always a very effective teacher. Perhaps another way to state this is that art expresses. How well it expresses, either through medium or content, determines its longevity. Note that I have deliberately not assigned a moral value in this discussion. I strongly believe some great art is poison. But that's not relevant yet.

If art teaches, then the friction between "low church" and "high church" has only to do with what effect that art tends to have on the heart. What matters isn't art, but what it teaches us. Many of the protestant reformers felt legitimate ire at how the high church had become a spectacle rather than sacred. But they would be fools to think honest affection for aesthetic quality- aesthetic quality with which God has richly lavished on the natural world- was what led people astray. Pagans always end up worshiping nature. I have never heard anyone recommend bulldozing a mountain to maintain moral purity. Besides, With the advent of minimalist themes in 20th and 21st century art, one might question if some of the sparsely decorated churches of the south might have more in common with high church than a floridly ornamented sanctuary.

The trouble with assigning a moral value to shapes and symbols is that it assigns moral values to them. A swastika meant something very different till the Nazi's gave it a decidedly negative value. Moreover, a swastika doesn't make someone a Nazi. It can be a rallying point for Nazi's- a call to arms. But it can't indoctrinate someone. Symbols have tremendous power. And a good argument against high church is many of the values that informed its traditions (the sacred art, etc.) were indeed sacrilege.

Perhaps a greater concern of high church or the larger discussion of art isn't its existence, but rather its very tremendous power. The now redundant "great-power, great-responsibility" seems destined to become a classic aphorism, and it certainly applies here. Doing away with high church is a classic bait and switch. Thinking we can obviate legalism by our actions ensures it a very cozy home in our hearts.

The reason I like the above painting by Albrecht Dürer is, among many things, its central primacy of Christ and its observation of what makes us all saints. I think that is not immoral.