Todays’ excursion into the writings of St. Josemaria Escriva gives us an image of the man himself. Escriva was born in 1902, and his magnum opus, The Way, which provides the content of these blogs, was published in 1939. So, he was only 37 at that time, and he had begun the work as early as 1933. Why do I bring this up? Because, well, in today’s selection (which I promise you, was completely random; I merely open the book and there it was), Escriva comes off….well….as a grumpy old man. In today’s excerpt, he is not talking too much about how to build your “interior life”, how to treat others with God’s love, or how to aspire holiness. Well, I guess he might sort of touch on this, but in reality, it sounds like a condemnation of everything new, in comparison to the way things were back in the “good ole days.” But enough of me, let’s hear from Escriva himself, and then we’ll discuss more. So, here it is, Tract 542 from The Way:
#542: Don’t put up the mass-produced statues for public devotion. I prefer a rough, wrought-iron figure of Christ to those colored, plaster statues that look as if they were made of sugar candy.
So…where to begin? I’m not sure of the historical context on this one. As I’ve discussed before, Escriva is doing much of his writing while the Spanish Civil War is raging. Parts of the Republican cause persecuted the Catholic Church, while the Nationalist forces under Gen. Franco used it as a rallying point. Following Franco’s victory, were cheap Jesus statues being mass-produced, as a way for people to show loyalty to the new regime? Or was Escriva being wistful? In his country is the magnificence of the Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela, which, to this day, still attracts pilgrims. Spain has a tremendous legacy of spectacular religious artwork: Diego Velazquez, Francisco de Goya, and El Greco all created masterpieces with Catholic themes. Tomas Luis de Victoria ranks right alongside Palestrina as the greatest Counter-Reformation composer. With this rich tradition of magnificence, is Escriva just being that figure we all know so well? You know who I am talking about: the person who is never satisfied with the present, it was always better before. Sure, this is fun, but back in the day….Yes, this is a lovely place, but back where I am from…..You kids! You call that music! When I was your age….. Is that what Escriva is saying? If this interpretation is correct and he really was an old-fashioned curmudgeon (even in his 30s!), I can only imagine what he thought about that very untraditional Church that was being built in Barcelona, Gaudi’s highly unusual but masterpiece nonetheless, the Sagrada Familia! Is Escriva telling us, Hey, you kids! This is how we did back in the old days! Take your fancy, new plastic Jesus and get off my lawn!
The Catholic Church has long had a thing for ornateness, and it is a double-edged sword. I’ve never been to any of these places, but just seeing pictures of St. Peter’s Basilica and the Sistine Chapel in Rome; the two Cathedrals of Notre Dame in France (Paris and Reims), the Cologne Cathedral; the Mexico City Cathedral…it is jaw-dropping. And these are just buildings. The artwork the Church has commissioned; from Michelangelo to da Vinci, the Spaniards I wrote about above, the composers, and so many more. All of this appears wonderful, but it lays open for criticism: what else could be done with those funds?
Looking at the Bible, the answer isn’t clear cut. We are given example after example to care for the poor. Jesus observes in Luke 21: 1 – 4 the poor widow who gives all she has into the Temple treasury, and compares this to those who give of their bounty. Yet, the Old Testament tells us repeatedly of the ways to venerate the Lord: construct an Ark of the Covenant; the dimensions of a Tabernacle; the grandeur of Solomon’s Temple and so forth.
When we get to the New Testament, there is still a Temple. It’s not Solomon’s Temple, anymore but it’s there in Jerusalem. In John 2:20, we are told that building took 46 years to complete. But we are not told much of its majesty. It is a setting for Jesus to teach, and often it’s the backdrop for an example to be made. The first instance of his ministry is the child Jesus in Luke 2, asking questions of the scholars. We have the example I previously mentioned, of the poor widow. The comment about the time of the construction comes in response to Jesus’ saying He would rebuild it in 3 days. And two of the more dramatic moments of the Gospels occur in the Temple. In Luke 4:9, the Devil and Jesus stand on the top of the structure, with the former goading Him to throw Himself down. Perhaps the most vivid description of going-ons in the Temple comes from Matthew 21:12, where Jesus drives out the money-changers and vendors. Second Chronicles tells us of how magnificent the Temple Solomon made was. But here in Matthew, all we are told is of the human misdeeds occurring in this House of God. Some of you may read into the turning out of the money changers a message for us today: don’t use the hour of Mass to discuss the upcoming fundraiser, the potluck dinner, or an outing. Those are human interests that do not belong in the House of the Lord. I don’t know if I’m prepared to go that far, but I can see where you draw that from the Gospel.
With the coming of Jesus, the Temple seems no longer to be just a house of magnificence. Skip to St. Paul; in First Corinthians, we are told that our body is a temple of the Holy Spirit. To me, this is St. Paul confirming the change Jesus brought. It’s not about a physical structure, to offer sacrifices to a distant God. It’s now all about a personal relationship with a loving, ever-present God. That’s why Jesus came; the Divine is no longer remote. Each of us can have a personal relationship with God. It’s not about a magnificent building to house His Presence; He’s right here, waiting for us to accept Him. And that accessibility of the Savior; that, my friends, is more beautiful than any Cathedral, no matter how opulent it may be. Heck, let’s not forget that in Revelation 21, the author does not see a Temple in the New Jerusalem, “because the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are its temple.”
So…has the Catholic Church been wrong in its zeal for magnificence? Well, first off, just because I point out that our bodies are a temple, it does NOT rule out the importance of community. Throughout Acts, we see how the believers came together in groups. In Acts 16, Paul and Silas sing and pray with the other prisoners. They then go to the jailer’s house, and commune with his whole family. The subsequent epistles are Paul’s letters to faith communities. Galatians, Colossians, Romans, etc.; those are letters to Churches. The faith is meant to be shared as a group. So, while your body may be a temple, that doesn’t mean your faith is a solitary experience. The Biblical example seems clear on that.
But whether these Houses of God need to be extravagant….well, that’s a good question. In his creation of the Sagrada Familia, Antoni Gaudi was a very pious, devoted man. He believed he was building a house that would tell the story of Christ and would stand as a way of giving praise. And I guess that’s a way to look at it. There’s no question the Church throughout history has paid enormous amounts to create these masterpieces. The Renaissance Popes spent lavishly on art. There are also some unsavory histories to some of these buildings. Cortes and his conquistadors began building the Mexico City Cathedral from the bricks of the Aztec Temple they destroyed. How, for histories’ sake, it would have been rich to have the original building survive! We can debate the ostentatiousness of these structures (and their accompanying art) all you want; I am, in no way, going to say a magnificent Cathedral is necessary. Nor will I disagree with you when you say to me, how much better causes could have been served by those funds.
What I will say is this: I think Gaudi would say, if one person was inspired to seek Christ by taking in the Sagrada Familia, then that makes the building worthwhile. How can you put a monetary value on salvation? Also, read up on Gaudi. While his building has cost huge amounts, his own life was anything but luxury. There is sincerity in what he was doing. I cannot account for all who have created masterpieces for the Church, but I am reminded of the episode in Matthew 26, when some of the Disciples are dismayed with the expensive perfume that a woman has anointed Jesus with. They complain the funds could have been used for the poor. Jesus’ response is that the woman has done a good deed, “The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me.” Again, we can argue whether the funds could have gone elsewhere, but if the goal is for something that will glorify God, and perhaps even bring others to Him, that I cannot begrudge.
As for St. Josemaria Escriva, he appears to be a classicist. He has a very certain definition of what he wants his religiosity to look like. That works for him. But personally, I don’t think Jesus is going to care if you bought a plastic statue of Him, made in China. If that’s what you can afford and you’re buying it because it’s important to have a symbol of Jesus with you, isn’t that just like the Poor Widow in the Temple? I highly doubt Jesus will care. And as for Escriva…well…..just make sure you stay off his lawn. Especially if you’re carrying a plastic Jesus.
guyinaboater 