Letter of Pope John Paul II to Artists
LETTER OF POPE JOHN PAUL II TO ARTISTS, 1999
To all who, with passionate devotion, seek new "epiphanies" of beauty to offer to the world through artistic creation.
"God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good" (Gen 1:31).
The artist, image of God the Creator
1. No one better than you, artists, ingenious creators of beauty, can grasp something of the pathos with which God, at the dawn of creation, gazed upon the work of his hands. Countless times, a vibration of that feeling has been reflected in the gazes with which you, like artists of all times, fascinated and full of admiration before the mysterious power of sounds and words, colors and forms, have contemplated the work of your inspiration, perceiving in it an echo of the mystery of creation, with which God, the sole creator of all things, in some way wished to associate you.
For this reason, it seemed to me that there were no words more appropriate than those of Genesis to begin this letter, which I address to you, to whom I feel bound by experiences that go back a very long way and have left an indelible mark on my life. By this writing, I intend to follow the path of the Church's fruitful dialogue with artists, which, over two thousand years of history, has never been interrupted and still promises to be rich in future prospects at the threshold of the third millennium.
In reality, this is a dialogue that is not only due to historical circumstances or functional reasons, but is rooted both in the very essence of religious experience and in that of artistic creation. The first page of the Bible presents God almost as the exemplary model of every person who creates a work: in man the artisan, his image as Creator is reflected. This relationship is particularly evident in the Polish language, thanks to the lexical proximity between the words stwórca (creator) and twórca (artisan).
What is the difference between "creator" and "artisan"? He who creates gives being itself, he draws something from nothing - ex nihilo sui et subiecti, as they say in Latin - and this, strictly speaking, is a way of proceeding proper only to the Almighty. Conversely, the artisan uses something that already exists and gives it form and meaning. This way of acting is proper to man as an image of God. After saying, in fact, that God created man and woman "in his image" (cf. Gen 1:27), the Bible adds that he entrusted them with the task of subduing the earth (cf. Gen 1:28). This was the last day of creation (cf. Gen 1:28-31). In the preceding days, almost punctuating the rhythm of cosmic evolution, the Lord had created the universe. In the end, he created man, the noblest result of his plan, to whom he subjected the visible world, as an immense field where he could express his inventive capacity.
God thus called man into existence by transmitting to him the task of being an artisan. In "artistic creation," man reveals himself more than ever as "image of God," and he accomplishes this task first and foremost by molding the wonderful "material" of his humanity, and also by exercising creative dominion over the universe around him. The Divine Artist, with loving complacency, transmits a spark of his transcendent wisdom to the human artist, calling him to share his creative power. This is obviously a participation that leaves intact the infinite distance between the Creator and the creature, as Cardinal Nicholas of Cusa emphasized: "The art of creating which a blessed soul will achieve is not that art by essence which is God, but rather a communication and participation in that art."
Therefore, the more the artist is aware of the "gift" he possesses, the more he is encouraged to look at himself, and at all creation, with eyes capable of contemplation and thanksgiving, raising his hymn of praise to God. Only in this way can he understand himself deeply, and understand his vocation and mission.
The artist's special vocation
2. Not everyone is called to be an artist in the specific sense of the term. However, according to the expression of Genesis, the task of being the artisan of one's own life is entrusted to every human being: in a certain sense, he must make it a work of art, a masterpiece.
It is important to grasp the distinction, but also the link, between these two aspects of human activity. The distinction is obvious. One thing, indeed, is the disposition by which the human being is the author of his own actions and is responsible for their moral value; another thing is the disposition by which he is an artist, that is to say, he knows how to act according to the requirements of art, faithfully embracing its specific principles. This is why the artist is capable of producing objects, but this, in itself, says nothing about his moral dispositions. Here, in fact, it is not a matter of molding oneself, of forming one's own personality, but only of making one's creative abilities bear fruit, giving aesthetic form to ideas conceived by thought.
But if the distinction is fundamental, the relationship between these two dispositions, moral and artistic, is no less important. They deeply condition each other. In molding a work, the artist expresses himself to such an extent that his production constitutes a particular reflection of his being, of what he is and of how he is. Countless confirmations of this are found in the history of humanity. Indeed, when the artist fashions a masterpiece, not only does he give life to his work, but through it, in a certain sense, he also unveils his own personality. In art, he finds a new dimension and an extraordinary means of expression for his spiritual growth. Through the works he creates, the artist speaks and communicates with others. The history of art is therefore not only a history of works, it is also a history of men. Works of art speak of their authors, they introduce us to a deeper knowledge of their being and they reveal the original contribution they have made to the history of culture.
The artistic vocation in the service of beauty
3. A well-known Polish poet, Cyprian Norwid, wrote: "Beauty is to inspire enthusiasm in work, / work is to be reborn."
The theme of beauty is particularly appropriate for a discussion on art. It already surfaced when I highlighted God's satisfied gaze before creation. In noting that what he had created was good, God also saw that it was beautiful. The relationship between good and beautiful gives rise to stimulating reflections. Beauty is in a certain sense the visible expression of good, just as good is the metaphysical condition of the beautiful. The Greeks understood this well, and by merging the two concepts, they coined a phrase that encompassed both: "kalokagathía", that is to say, "beauty-goodness". Plato writes on this subject: "The proper virtue of the Good has taken refuge in the nature of the Beautiful."
It is by living and acting that man establishes his relations with being, with truth and with good. The artist lives a particular relationship with beauty. In a very just sense, it can be said that beauty is the vocation to which the Creator has called him through the gift of "artistic talent." And this talent, too, must certainly be made to bear fruit, according to the logic of the Gospel parable of the talents (cf. Mt 25:14-30).
Here we touch upon an essential point. Whoever perceives within himself this kind of divine spark that is the artistic vocation - as a poet, writer, painter, sculptor, architect, musician, actor... - perceives at the same time the duty not to waste this talent, but to develop it to put it at the service of his neighbor and all humanity.
The artist and the common good
4. Society, indeed, needs artists, just as it needs scientists, technicians, workers, people of all professions, witnesses of faith, teachers, fathers and mothers, who guarantee the growth of the person and the development of the community through that very high form of art which is "the art of education." In the vast cultural panorama of every nation, artists have their specific place. When precisely, in the creation of truly valuable and beautiful works, they obey their inspiration, not only do they enrich the cultural heritage of each nation and of humanity as a whole, but they also render a qualified social service for the benefit of the common good.
While determining the framework of his service, the different vocation of each artist reveals the duties he must assume, the hard work he must undergo, the responsibility he must face. An artist aware of all this also knows that he must work without allowing himself to be dominated by the pursuit of vain glory or by the frenzy of easy popularity, and even less by the calculation of a possible personal profit. There is, therefore, an ethics, and even a "spirituality," of artistic service, which, in its own way, contributes to the life and rebirth of a people. It is precisely to this that Cyprian Norwid seems to want to allude when he states: "Beauty is to inspire enthusiasm in work, / work is to be reborn."
Art in the face of the mystery of the Incarnate Word
5. The Law of the Old Testament explicitly forbids representing the invisible and inexpressible God with "a carved or molten image" (Dt 27:15), for God transcends all material representation: "I am who I am" (Ex 3:14). However, the Son of God himself became visible in the mystery of the Incarnation: "When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman" (Gal 4:4). God became man in Jesus Christ, who thus became "the center in relation to which one must situate oneself in order to understand the enigma of human existence, of the created world and of God himself."
This fundamental manifestation of the "God-Mystery" constitutes an encouragement and a challenge for Christians, among others in the field of artistic creation. From it has sprung a blossoming of beauty that has drawn its sap precisely from there, from the mystery of the Incarnation. In becoming man, indeed, the Son of God introduced into the history of humanity all the evangelical richness of truth and good, and, in it, also revealed a new dimension of beauty: the evangelical message is completely filled with it.
Holy Scripture thus became a kind of "immense vocabulary" (P. Claudel) and "iconographic atlas" (M. Chagall), from which Christian culture and art have drawn. The Old Testament itself, interpreted in the light of the New, proved to be an inexhaustible source of inspiration. From the accounts of creation, sin, the flood, the cycle of the Patriarchs, the events of the Exodus, to so many other episodes and characters in salvation history, the biblical text has ignited the imagination of painters, poets, musicians, playwrights and filmmakers. A figure like Job, to take an example, with his burning and ever-relevant problem of suffering, continues to arouse both philosophical and literary and artistic interest. And what about the New Testament? From the Nativity to Golgotha, from the Transfiguration to the Resurrection, from Christ's miracles to his teachings, to the events reported by the Acts of the Apostles or glimpsed by the Apocalypse in an eschatological perspective, countless times the biblical word has become image, music, poetry, evoking through the language of art the mystery of the "Word made flesh."
In the history of culture, all this constitutes a vast chapter of faith and beauty. Believers above all have benefited from it for their experience of prayer and life. For many of them, in times of low literacy, the pictorial expressions of the Bible even constituted concrete catechetical means. But for all, believers and non-believers, the artistic achievements inspired by Scripture remain a reflection of the unfathomable mystery that envelops and inhabits the world.
Between the Gospel and art, a fruitful alliance
6. Indeed, every authentic artistic intuition goes beyond what the senses perceive and, in penetrating reality, it strives to interpret its hidden mystery. It springs from the deepest part of the human soul, where the aspiration to give meaning to one's life is accompanied by the fleeting perception of beauty and the mysterious unity of things. It is an experience shared by all artists that of the irremediable gap that exists between the work of their hands, however successful it may be, and the dazzling perfection of beauty perceived in the fervor of the creative moment: what they succeed in expressing in what they paint, what they sculpt, what they create, is but a glimmer of the splendor that crossed their minds for a few moments.
The believer is not surprised by this: he knows that for an instant that abyss of light has opened before him, having its original source in God. Should we be surprised if the spirit remains as if crushed to the point of being able to express itself only through stammering? No one is more ready than the true artist to recognize his limits and to make his own the words of the Apostle Paul, according to whom God "does not dwell in temples made with human hands," just as "we should not think that the deity is like gold, silver, or stone, wrought by human art and ingenuity" (Acts 17:24, 29). If already the profound reality of things always stands "beyond" human capacities of penetration, how much more God in the depths of his unfathomable mystery!
Knowledge of faith is of a completely different nature: it presupposes a personal encounter with God in Jesus Christ. However, this knowledge can also benefit from artistic intuition. The works of Fra Angelico, for example, are an eloquent model of an aesthetic contemplation that is sublimated in faith. No less significant in this regard is the ecstatic lauda, which Saint Francis of Assisi repeats twice in the chartula written after receiving the stigmata of Christ on Mount La Verna: "You are beauty... You are beauty!". Saint Bonaventure comments: "He contemplated in beautiful things the Most Beautiful and, following the traces imprinted in creatures, he pursued the Beloved everywhere."
A similar approach is found in Eastern spirituality, where Christ is called "Most Beautiful in beauty more than all mortals." Macarius the Great thus comments on the transfiguring and liberating beauty of the Risen One: "The soul that has been fully enlightened by the inexpressible beauty of the luminous glory of the face of Christ, is filled with the Holy Spirit,... is nothing but eye, nothing but light, nothing but face."
Every authentic form of art is, in its own way, a path of access to the deepest reality of man and the world. As such, it constitutes a very valuable approach to the horizon of faith, in which human existence finds its full interpretation. This is why the evangelical fullness of truth could not but arouse from the beginning the interest of artists, naturally sensitive to all manifestations of the inner beauty of reality.
The Origins
7. The art that Christianity encountered in its origins was the mature fruit of the classical world; it expressed its aesthetic canons and at the same time conveyed its values. Faith imposed on Christians, in the field of art as in that of life and thought, a discernment that did not allow for the automatic reception of this heritage. Christian-inspired art thus began quietly, closely linked to the need believers had to elaborate signs to express, from Scripture, the mysteries of faith, and at the same time a "symbolic code" through which they could recognize and identify themselves, especially in the difficult times of persecution. Who does not remember those symbols that were also the first sketches of pictorial and plastic art? The fish, the loaves, the shepherd, evoked the mystery by becoming, almost imperceptibly, the outlines of a new art.
When, by the Edict of Constantine, Christians were granted full freedom of expression, art became a privileged channel for the manifestation of faith. Majestic basilicas began to flourish in various places, in which the architectural canons of ancient paganism were taken up and at the same time subjected to the requirements of the new cult. How can we not recall at least the ancient Saint Peter's Basilica and Saint John Lateran, built at Constantine's own expense? Or, for the splendors of Byzantine art, the Hagia Sophia of Constantinople, commissioned by Justinian?
While architecture shaped sacred space, the need to contemplate mystery and present it immediately to ordinary people gradually led to the first expressions of pictorial and sculptural art. At the same time, the first sketches of a verbal and sound art appeared; and if Augustine, among the many themes in his works, included a De musica, Hilary, Ambrose, Prudentius, Ephrem the Syrian, Gregory of Nazianzus, Paulinus of Nola, to name but a few, promoted a Christian poetry that often achieved high not only theological but also literary value. Their poetic program emphasized forms inherited from the classics, but it drew from the pure sap of the Gospel, as the holy poet of Nola rightly declared: "Our only art is faith and Christ is our song." Some time later, Gregory the Great, for his part, with the compilation of the Antiphonarium, laid the foundations for the organic development of the highly original sacred music that took his name. Through its inspired modulations, Gregorian chant would become over the centuries the typical melodic expression of the Church's faith during the liturgical celebration of the Sacred Mysteries. The "beautiful" thus combined with the "true," so that through the paths of art, minds would be transported from the sensible to the eternal.
Difficult moments were not lacking throughout this journey. Precisely concerning the representation of the Christian mystery, the ancient period saw a very harsh controversy, which went down in history as the "iconoclastic controversy." Sacred images, which had become widespread in popular devotion, were the object of violent contestation. The Council celebrated in Nicaea in 787 was a historic event, not only from the point of view of faith but also for culture, by deciding on the lawfulness of images and the worship surrounding them. To settle the controversy, the Bishops appealed to a decisive argument: the mystery of the Incarnation. If the Son of God entered the world of visible realities, building a bridge between the visible and the invisible through his humanity, it is permissible to think, by analogy, that a representation of the mystery can be used, in the logic of signs, as a sensible evocation of the mystery. The icon is not venerated for itself, but it refers to the subject it represents.
The Middle Ages
8. The following centuries witnessed a great development of Christian art. In the East, icon art continued to flourish. This art remains linked to precise theological and aesthetic canons, and it is underpinned by the conviction that, in a certain sense, the icon is a sacrament: indeed, in a manner analogous to what happens in the sacraments, it makes present the mystery of the Incarnation in one or another of its aspects. It is precisely for this reason that the beauty of the icon can above all be appreciated inside a church with lamps burning and casting infinite reflections of light in the dimness. Pavel Florensky writes in this regard: "Gold, barbarian, heavy, futile in the bright light of day, revives under the flickering glow of a lamp or a candle, for it then shines with myriads of sparks that cast their fires here and there and hint at other, non-earthly lights that fill celestial space."
In the West, artists approached their work from extremely varied perspectives, depending on the fundamental convictions present in the cultural environment of their time. The artistic heritage grew richer over the centuries and saw an abundant blossoming of sacred art works that testify to high inspiration and fill even today's observer with admiration. The great cult buildings remained at the forefront; their functional character always combined with genius, and this was inspired by the sense of beauty and the intuition of mystery. This resulted in well-known styles in art history. The strength and simplicity of Romanesque art, expressed in cathedrals and abbeys, would gradually develop, giving way to the soaring forms and splendors of Gothic. Behind these forms lay not only the genius of an artist but the soul of a people. In the interplay of light and shadow, in forms alternately powerful and slender, structural technical considerations certainly played a role, but so did tensions inherent in the experience of God, a mystery that evokes both "awe" and "fascination." How can one summarize in a few strokes, and for the various forms of art, the creative power of the long centuries of Christian Middle Ages? An entire culture, while remaining within the ever-present limits of the human, had been permeated by the Gospel, and where theological thought culminated in Saint Thomas's Summa, the art of the churches pushed matter to bow in adoration of mystery, while an admirable poet like Dante Alighieri could compose "the sacred poem, / to which heaven and earth have set their hand," as he himself called the Divine Comedy.
Humanism and the Renaissance
9. The favorable cultural climate that gave rise to the extraordinary artistic flourishing of Humanism and the Renaissance also had a significant influence on how artists of that period approached religious themes. Obviously, their inspiration was as varied as their styles, at least concerning the greatest among them. But it is not my intention to remind you of these things that you, artists, know well. Rather, writing to you from the Apostolic Palace, a veritable treasure chest of perhaps unique masterpieces in the world, I would like to be the interpreter of the great artists who displayed here the riches of their genius, often imbued with great spiritual depth. From here, Michelangelo speaks, who, in the Sistine Chapel, as it were, gathered all the drama and mystery of the world, from Creation to the Last Judgment, giving a face to God the Father, to Christ the Judge, to man journeying arduously from the beginning to the end of history. From here, speaks the delicate and profound genius of Raphael, showing, through the variety of his paintings, and especially in the "Disputation of the Holy Sacrament" located in the Room of the Segnatura, the mystery of the revelation of the Triune God, who, in the Eucharist, becomes man's companion and projects his light on the questions and expectations of human intelligence. From here, from the majestic Basilica dedicated to the Prince of the Apostles, from the colonnade that extends from it like two open arms to welcome humanity, a Bramante, a Bernini, a Borromini, a Maderno still speak, to name only the greatest; they convey, through plastic forms, the sense of mystery that makes the Church a universal, welcoming community, a mother and a traveling companion for every man who seeks God.
In this extraordinary ensemble, sacred art found an expression of exceptional power, reaching heights of imperishable aesthetic and religious value. What characterizes it ever more, under the impulse of Humanism and the Renaissance, then of the cultural and scientific trends that followed, is a growing interest in man, in the world, in the reality of history. In itself, this attention is in no way a danger to Christian faith, centered on the mystery of the Incarnation and therefore on God's valuing of man. The great artists I have just mentioned clearly show this. Suffice it to consider how Michelangelo, in his paintings and sculptures, expresses the beauty of the human body.
Moreover, even in the new climate of recent centuries, where part of society seems to have become indifferent to faith, religious art has never interrupted its momentum. This observation is confirmed if, from the figurative arts, we consider the great development that sacred music has experienced during the same period, composed to meet the requirements of the liturgy or linked only to religious themes. Apart from so many artists who dedicated themselves extensively to sacred music—how can we not mention at least Pier Luigi da Palestrina, Roland de Lassus, Tomás Luis de Victoria?—it is known that many great composers—from Handel to Bach, from Mozart to Schubert, from Beethoven to Berlioz, from Liszt to Verdi—have given us works of great inspiration in this field.
Towards a renewed dialogue
10. It is true, however, that in the modern era, alongside this Christian humanism which continued to produce valuable cultural and artistic expressions, a form of humanism gradually developed characterized by the absence of God and often by opposition to Him. This climate sometimes led to a certain separation between the world of art and the world of faith, at least in the sense that many artists no longer had the same interest in religious themes.
You know, however, that the Church has never ceased to hold art in high esteem as such. Indeed, even beyond its most typically religious expressions, authentic art has a profound affinity with the world of faith, so much so that, even when culture moves considerably away from the Church, it continues to constitute a kind of bridge towards religious experience. Because it is a search for beauty, the fruit of an imagination that goes beyond the everyday, art is, by nature, a kind of call to Mystery. Even when it scrutinizes the darkest depths of the soul or the most disturbing aspects of evil, the artist somehow becomes the voice of the universal expectation of redemption.
It is understandable, then, why the Church is particularly keen on dialogue with art and why she desires that, in our time, a new alliance with artists be forged, as my revered predecessor Paul VI wished in his vibrant address to artists during the special meeting of May 7, 1964, in the Sistine Chapel. The Church hopes that such collaboration will bring about a new "epiphany" of beauty in our time and provide appropriate answers to the needs of the Christian community.
In the spirit of the Second Vatican Council
11. The Second Vatican Council laid the foundations for renewed relations between the Church and culture, with immediate consequences for the world of art. These are relations marked by friendship, openness, and dialogue. In the pastoral constitution Gaudium et spes, the Council Fathers emphasized "the great importance" of literature and the arts in human life: "They strive, indeed, to penetrate the proper nature of man, his problems, his experience in his attempts to know and perfect himself, to know and perfect the world; they strive to better understand his place in history and in the universe, to shed light on human miseries and joys, needs and strengths, and to present the outline of a better human destiny."
Starting from these foundations, the Council Fathers, at the close of their work, greeted artists with an appeal in these terms: "This world in which we live needs beauty to avoid falling into despair. Beauty, like truth, is what brings joy to the hearts of men, it is that precious fruit that resists the erosion of time, that unites generations and makes them communicate in admiration." It is precisely in this spirit of deep esteem for beauty that the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium on the liturgy recalled the Church's long friendship with art. And, speaking more specifically of sacred art, the "summit" of religious art, this document did not hesitate to consider the work of artists as a "noble ministry" when their works are capable of reflecting, in some way, the infinite beauty of God and of orienting the minds of all towards Him. Thanks also to their contribution, "the knowledge of God is better revealed, and the preaching of the Gospel becomes more easily grasped by human intelligence." In light of what has just been said, the affirmation of Fr. Marie-Dominique Chenu does not surprise us, for he considered that the historian of theology would do incomplete work if he did not give due attention to artistic achievements—whether literary or plastic—which constitute, in their own way, "not only aesthetic illustrations, but true theological 'places'."
The Church needs art
12. To transmit the message Christ entrusted to her, the Church needs art. She must indeed make perceptible and even, as far as possible, fascinating the world of the spirit, of the invisible, of God. She must therefore translate into meaningful formulas what, in itself, is ineffable. Now, art has a unique ability to grasp one or another aspect of the message and translate it into colors, shapes, or sounds that reinforce the intuition of the viewer or listener. And this, without depriving the message itself of its transcendental value or its aura of mystery.
The Church needs, in particular, those who are able to accomplish all this on a literary and figurative level, using the infinite possibilities of images and their symbolic value. In his preaching, Christ himself made extensive use of images, in full harmony with his choice to become himself, through the Incarnation, the icon of the invisible God.
But the Church also needs musicians. How many sacred compositions have been created over the centuries by people deeply imbued with a sense of mystery! Countless believers have nourished their faith through melodies that sprang from the hearts of other believers and have become an integral part of the liturgy, or at least contribute remarkably to its worthy celebration. Through song, faith is experienced as a resounding cry of joy and love, a confident expectation of God's saving intervention.
The Church needs architects, because she needs spaces to gather the Christian people and to celebrate the mysteries of salvation. After the terrible destruction of the last world war and with the growth of metropolises, a new generation of architects emerged around the needs of Christian worship, thus proving the inspirational power of the religious theme even with regard to the architectural canons of our time. Often, indeed, churches have been built that are places of prayer and, at the same time, authentic works of art.
Does art need the Church?
13. So, the Church needs art. But can it be said that art needs the Church? The question may seem provocative. In reality, if understood in its proper sense, it is legitimate and profound. The artist is always searching for the deep meaning of things, his ardent desire is to express the world of the ineffable. How then can one not see what a great source of inspiration this kind of homeland of the soul that is religion can be for him? Is it not within the religious framework that the most important personal questions are asked and the definitive existential answers are sought?
Indeed, the religious is one of the most treated subjects by artists of all eras. The Church has always called upon their creative capacity to interpret the evangelical message and its concrete application in the life of the Christian community. This collaboration has been a source of reciprocal spiritual enrichment. Ultimately, it has gained from it an understanding of man, of his authentic image, of his truth. This also highlights the particular link between art and Christian revelation. This does not mean that human genius has not also found stimulating inspirations in other religious contexts. Suffice it to recall ancient art, especially Greek and Roman; and the still flourishing art of the oldest civilizations of the East. However, it remains true that Christianity, by virtue of the central dogma of the Incarnation of the Word of God, offers the artist a particularly rich universe of inspirational motifs. What an impoverishment it would be for art to abandon the inexhaustible source of the Gospel!
Appeal to artists
14. Through this letter, I address you, artists from all over the world, to confirm my esteem for you and to contribute to developing once again a more fruitful cooperation between art and the Church. I invite you to rediscover the depth of the spiritual and religious dimension that has always characterized art in its noblest expressions. It is in this perspective that I appeal to you, artists of the written and spoken word, of theatre and music, of plastic arts and the most modern communication technologies. I particularly appeal to you, Christian artists: to each one, I would like to remind you that the alliance established since always between the Gospel and art implies, beyond functional necessities, the invitation to penetrate with creative intuition into the mystery of the Incarnate God, and at the same time into the mystery of man.
No human being, in a sense, truly knows himself. Not only does Jesus Christ reveal God, but he "fully manifests man to himself." In Christ, God has reconciled the world to himself. All believers are called to bear this witness; but it is up to you, men and women who have dedicated your lives to art, to proclaim with the richness of your genius that, in Christ, the world is redeemed: man is redeemed, the human body is redeemed, the whole creation is redeemed, of which Saint Paul wrote that it "waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God" (Rom 8:19). It awaits the revealing of the sons of God even through art and in art. This is your task. Through contact with works of art, humanity of all times—including today's—awaits enlightenment on its path and its destiny.
The Creative Spirit and Artistic Inspiration
15. In the Church, the invocation to the Holy Spirit is often heard: Veni, Creator Spiritus... – “Come, Creator Spirit, / visit the souls of your faithful / fill with heavenly grace / the hearts you have created.”
The Holy Spirit, “the Breath” (ruah), is already alluded to in the Book of Genesis: “The earth was formless and void, darkness covered the abyss, and the Spirit of God hovered over the waters” (Gen 1:2). And there is such an affinity between the words “breath – exhalation” and “inspiration”! The Spirit is the mysterious artist of the universe. From the perspective of the third millennium, I wish all artists to be able to receive in abundance the gift of creative inspirations in which all authentic works of art are rooted.
Dear artists, you know well that there are many stimuli, both internal and external, that can inspire your talent. However, all authentic inspiration contains within it some stirring of that “breath” with which the Creative Spirit filled the work of creation from the beginning. By presiding over the mysterious laws that govern the universe, the divine breath of the Creative Spirit encounters human genius and stimulates its creative capacity. It reaches it through a kind of inner illumination, which unites the orientation towards good and beauty, and which awakens within it the energies of the mind and heart, making it capable of conceiving the idea and giving it form in a work of art. One then rightly speaks, even if analogously, of “moments of grace,” because the human being has the opportunity to experience something of the Absolute that transcends them.
The “Beauty” that Saves
16. At the dawn of the third millennium, I wish all of you, dear artists, to be touched by these creative inspirations with particular intensity. May the beauty you transmit to future generations be such that it arouses wonder in them! Before the sacredness of life and human beings, before the wonders of the universe, the only adequate attitude is that of wonder.
From this wonder can arise the enthusiasm of which Norwid speaks in the poem I referred to at the beginning. People today and tomorrow need this enthusiasm to face and overcome the crucial challenges on the horizon. Thanks to it, humanity, after every failure, will still be able to rise again and continue its journey. It is in this sense that it has been said with profound intuition that “beauty will save the world.”
Beauty is the key to mystery and refers to transcendence. It is an invitation to savor life and dream of the future. This is why the beauty of created things cannot satisfy, and it arouses that secret longing for God that a lover of beauty like Saint Augustine was able to interpret with unparalleled words: “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you!”
May your many paths, artists of the world, all lead you to the infinite Ocean of beauty where wonder becomes admiration, intoxication, inexpressible joy!
May you be guided and inspired by the mystery of the Risen Christ, whom the Church joyfully contemplates in these days!
And may the Blessed Virgin, the “all-beautiful,” accompany you, she whom countless artists have depicted and whom the famous Dante contemplates in the splendors of Paradise as “beauty, which gladdened the eyes of all the other saints!”
“From chaos arises the world of the spirit.” Starting from the words Adam Mickiewicz wrote in a particularly tormented period for his Polish homeland, I express a wish for you: may your art contribute to the strengthening of an authentic beauty which, like a reflection of the Spirit of God, transfigures matter, opening minds to the sense of eternity!
With my most cordial wishes!
From the Vatican, April 4, 1999, on the Resurrection of the Lord.
