David Clayton's Blog, page 15

How Modern Psychology Can Help Us To Be Moral

And how it can reinforce the Christian understanding of human behaviour.

I recently listened to a recorded lecture series which was intended to help people increase their self-control in order to have better lives. It was called the Willpower Instinct and was by Kelly McGonigal.  It is available as a book or recorded lectures.

As I listened to this I had a number of thoughts. First, there is plenty here to help Christians to become more moral – I will describe these later on in this blog article.

Second, she approaches this subject as a pure scientist who observes the influences on human behavior in order to help people have great self-control. While I wouldn’t quarrel with her observations as a scientist or her methods for controlling personal behavior based upon those observations; I would say that her explanations as to why they work were, for the most part, unproven hypothesis. In fact, it sounded to me as though a Christian understanding of the human person could add even more to what she was offering. I will discuss how in a separate article. Here I want to consider how it struck me that her presentation might help Christians.

These recorded lectures were based upon talks and workshops that she offers that use modern psychological research to help people to gain self control. From the sound of it a lot of her clients are addicts and failed dieters. Through her workshops, she helps people to assert their will power over their own behavior. She defines will power as the capacity to do what part of you really wants to do when another part of you really doesn’t want to do it.

What it seems to boil down to in these lectures is trying to order our lives so that they are generally governed by our long term goals rather than short term responses. In order to do this we need to be able to do two things:

1. Do things that part of us doesn’t want to do.

2. Resist the desire to do things that part of does want to do.

So, for the addict the need is to learn how to resist that part of us that desires the pleasure of taking whatever substance or indulging in whatever behavior we are addicted to. For those who are procrastinating over doing something that we know gives long term benefits, it is about learning to overcome that lethargy. And for the dieter it seems to a bit of everything: cultivating that part of you that wants to eat healthily, and trying to resist the desire of that part of you that wants to eat cream cakes all day long; and to overcome inertia towards exercising properly.

In this series of lectures she gives a series of exercises that she says have been shown to help people. I tried them out myself in order to try to overcome some bad habits and introduce some good habits into my life and they seemed to work.

The point to understand, she says, is that once a behavior becomes a problem the more we focus our attention on the problem, the more difficult it is to overcome it. So, for example, trying to tell ourselves constantly that we don’t want to eat cream cakes is, paradoxically, more likely to increase cream cake consumption than reduce it. This is why dieting is so extraordinarily difficult.

Her suggestion for overcoming this hypothetical cream-cake problem is to introduce three simple exercises into our lives:

1. Find some little activity or group of activities that you don’t like doing, but you know you can do regularly – for the slobs among us it could resolving to make your bed everyday, for example - and then resolve to do it regularly. This activity can be anything we choose except the problem behavior.

2. Find some little pleasure to which you are not too attached and then make a point of resisting it daily. Again, this can be anything you like except the problem behavior that you are trying to rid yourself of. This exercise strengthens our capacity to resist temptation if we do it regularly.

3. In a detached way, monitor how often you do the behavior that you really interested in trying to control, the problem behavior that you either want to either reduce or increase. It is important that you don’t consciously try to reduce or increase the regularity. Just monitor how often you actually eat cream cakes each day. How many do you eat in a day or week, truthfully?

4. Set yourselves the highest ideals in life, but don’t be too hard on yourself when you fall short. Draw a line underneath what happened and start again.

She then describes common pitfalls and temptations along the way and how to be prepared for them.

What struck me about this is how much it reinforces the traditional Christian practices of committing to fasts and abstinence; and to regular commitments to good works. It is not simply that these are good things in themselves, but also, as it was explained to me, if done regularly they will transform us. We become a person who is better at resisting the dangerous temptations; and more inclined to overcome acedia – a sloth towards doing what we ought to do.

So, just taking the examples of a regular routine I was given years ago: in habitual fasting we develop control over the passions and increases our capacity to resist our immediate wants. Similarly; in the habitual practice of loving action by, for example, doing some weekly voluntary commitment for a charity, it will make us better lovers who will take that increased capacity to love into all our relationships. If we habitually give thanks to God for the good things that we have in life regardless of we feel, then in time we will genuinely start to appreciate them and feel good about them. And if we habitually pray to God, regardless of how we feel during the prayer we will strengthen our faith.

The great value of what Ms McGonigal describes is the systematic approach to the subject which gives such great insights as to how to introduce such exercises into our lives so that they become very effective. Also, as in any situation where modern science reinforces traditional Christian practice, it helps to reinforce my faith still further and perhaps, you never know, might help persuade the odd atheist of the truth of the Faith.

What Ms McGonical does not do is help us very much to decide what we ought to want to do. What long term goals, for example, are going to make us happiest if we actually achieve them? Furthermore, in some of her explanations as to why man’s desire for short term pleasure so often override what we know objectively will make us happier in the long run. More on this next time….

 

 

 

 

Denis McNamara to Speak In New York City February 6th (This Saturday)

The Catholic Artists’ Society series of talks entitled, the Art of the Beautiful continues this Saturday in New York Saturday with a presentation from architectural historian, Denis McNamara entitled, Incarnation and Transfiguration: Rediscovering the Iconic Nature of Church Buildings.

Anyone who has attended one of Denis’s lectures or seen the series of talks produced by the Liturgical Institute in Mundelein, where he works, will know that this promises to be a stimulating and enjoyable evening. As usual with the CAS events the talk is followed by a reception and Compline.

Just in case you can’t make out the detail on the poster above, the talk is at the Catholic Center, NYU, 238 Thompson Street.

What did Christ really look like?

Why I think that those who criticize Christian artistic tradition for always presenting Christ as a northern European are wrong.

I have read a number of articles over the years that criticize the traditional representation of Christ as being historically inaccurate and exemplifying  historical northern European cultural bias. Twice I recently I have heard this discussion sparked off by the discovery of human remains in the Holy Land which date from the time of Christ, These have allowed scientists to create an image of the person from whom the bones came. The figure that is recreated is, surprise, surprise olive-skinned and semitic and so this indicates, so the logic goes, what Christ would probably have looked like. This being so, it demonstrates, so it is claimed, how narrow minded Europeans are, and how culturally narrow Christianity is for portraying Christ as a white, Caucasian. In short, it would be said, Christ didn’t look like this painting by Sir Anthony Van Dyck, as the Church has always maintained: He looked instead more like this scientific reconstruction of a man developed from a skull discovered in the Holy Land..(according the this article, here): Here is my reaction: first, if ever there was a concocted news piece this was one – does it really need the discovery of a skull as evidence for the suggestion to be made that a Jew living in the Middle East about 2,000 years ago might have been dark skinned and semitic? I think nearly every Christian today would at least ackowledge the possibility and it wouldn’t need the discovery of a skull to convince them. Second, I think that the argument reveals a narrow understanding of the Christian artistic tradition and a lack of appreciation of just how universally inclusive its. I will acknowledge that there is a tradition of artists who present Christ as their own race, or the race of those for whom the painting is intended. The idea is to encourage people to believe that Christ is a person with whom they can relate to at a personal level. This is natural. So Sir Anthony Van Dyck, who was northern European and who spent most of his professional life working in England might very well naturally paint Christ as a northern European. But why shouldn’t he? I feel that it is as reasonable for a European to paint Christ as European as it is for him to be painted as an African for an African congregation; or Chinese, for a Chinese audience, as in this painting: This desire to portray Christ in a form that those are intended to see him will relate to him can manifest itself in other ways. This famous crucifixion by Grunewald shows Christ with the open sores of a fungal infection transmitted through rye grain eaten in the bread of 16th century France. Those who suffered from this horrible disfiguring disease were given care in a hospital and this painting was painted for chapel in the hospital. The intention was to give them solace by showing that Christ not only bore the pain of their sins, but was suffering with them physically too.   On the whole, the depiction of Christ in the Christian artistic tradition does look more like the Van Dyck image than anything else. However, what I would contest the idea that this results from a northern European cultural bias. Look at these two images, first this one: and this now this one of Christ and St Menas: Both have Christ represented as a light-skinned man. However, these have no connection with Western Europe. Both of these were painted in Egypt. The first one comes from Mt Sinai and dates from the 6th century and second is even older, it is a Coptic icon dating from the 4th century. Why did they represent him in this way? One possibility that never seems to be considered in these articles is that it is because the tradition has preserved an image that corresponds to what Christ really looked like? If this were the case and it is historically accurate, one would expect to see others who looked similar. Well here are two portraits of Egyptians dating from even earlier, the 2nd century AD:   The two paintings above are portraits for burial coffins painted in encaustic – pigment suspended in hot wax. Not everybody would have been this light skinned in Egypt at this time, but at least this shows that some were. Egypt is not the Holy Land of course, but one would have expected an Egyptian artist to have some idea of what those who lived next door in the Holy Land might have looked like.

Nevertheless, if the images of Christ are not accurate and reflect a prejudice of Egyptian artists of the period, which is possible, then the prejudice which created them is certainly not northern or Western European, but rather aristocratic 4th century north African.

There is another reason why Christ would have been light skinned in religious images, even if it was widely believed that he was naturally much more dark skinned. This reason has nothing to do with racial stereotypes. The Christian tradition always portrays Christ, to varying degrees as an idealized heavenly figure. Even in naturalistic styles, such as the baroque exemplified by Van Dyck, there is always an element of idealization that points to this heavenly destiny. The model for this is the Transfiguration. The three apostles, you will remember, saw him transfigured on Mt Tabor, shining with light. In authentic Christian liturgical art there is always going to be an indication of the Light of the World. Sometimes this is achieved by a lightening the whole complexion. Here we have a portrayal of Christ in 16th century painted by an man originally trained in Crete in the Eastern mediterranean, living in Spain, El Greco.

Sometimes the indication of the divine light is achieved by adding concentrated lines of pure white light which sparkle on the surface of a generally darker skin. Russian icons especially tend to use this latter method and ironically it is in Russian art that we see some of the darkest skinned portrayals of Christ. I say it is ironic, because if racial or nationalistic prejudice was driving the portrayal of Christ one would have a expected a Greek living in Spain to paint a darker Christ than a Russian living in Russia. The icon below is from the late 15th century by the Russian iconographer known as Dionysius: Another point of discussion relates to what Christ looked like facially. Was he clean shaven or was he bearded with long hair? While some portrayals of Christ do show him without a beard – Caravaggio’s Supper at Emmeus comes to mind, this is rare. The early depictions of Christ without beard that I am aware of are allegorical representations of Christ as the Good Shepherd. This is one from the catacombs in Rome: Another image in the catacombs dating from the 4th century, which is not allegorical, shows Christ as the familiar bearded figure:

We do not know for certain what Christ looked like. However, I suggest that the tradition is old enough and geographically widespread enough to cast doubt on the assertion that the familiar bearded Christ with a light complexion arises from a Western European cultural prejudice. Furthermore it is not even true that Christ is always portrayed as white European, even by white Europeans. Russian icons show Christ with olive brown skin for example.

I would add that My opinion, any discussion of this subject that ignores the possibility, at least, that the tradition is as coherent as it is because it reflects what the historical Christ actually looked like indicates an unfair bias. It is the modern antiChristian bias of some historians that refuses to consider the validity of Christian tradition as a historical record of truth worthy of consideration, at least, alongside other sources.

And any discussion that doesn’t consider the possibility that the complexion might be lightened in order to indicate the transfigured heavenly Christ reflects a lack of understanding of how theology governs form in Christian art.

For my part I am happy to trust Christian tradition in this respect.

Documentary about the original Divine Mercy image – is this really what Christ looked like?

One of the most familiar images in Catholic churches today is the Divine Mercy image.

Most will be aware of the story of the vision of Sr Faustina and how she instructed an artist in Lithuania to paint it. What I did not know is that the images that we see most commonly in churches, and which are usually reproductions, are not reproductions of the original, but of painted copies of the original.

You can see this in the trailer for the documentary here.

I present this because I know that this image has a central place in popular piety of Catholics. But I am going to have to come clean here and give my personal opinion. I do not like the Divine Mercy image – I find it a poorly rendered naturalistic image and very sentimental and not conducive to prayer at all. Although now that I look at it, the original, shown above, does look less sentimental than the one I am used to seeing, which always looks something like this:

I did hear a story that Sr Faustina was never happy with the image either and in the end reluctantly agreed to its use assuming that no artist could ever reproduce satisfactorily what she had seen. Then years later, so the story went as related to me, she saw an image of Christ painted in the iconographic style and said, ‘That’s what he looked like!’ I can’t corroborate this, but I find it plausible.

Putting my personal preferences about the style aside, there is another very interesting point about this image, I am happy to accept that there is at least a basic likeness between the image and what Sr Faustina actually saw in her vision and described to the artist. The Divine Mercy image of Christ corresponds to the classic likeness that we are used to seeing in so many paintings from the tradition. He has a beard and long hair, for example. This corresponds also to other images not created by human hand, such as the Turin Shroud and the Mandylion.

Is this what Christ looked like historically? The skeptic would say that the Divine Mercy image looks as it does because Sr Faustina’s vision came from her imagination, which had been influenced by images that she had already seen; and it was not a vision direct from God at all. The criticisms from the politically correct who are interested in cultural diversity, would take the same line and then go further. They say that the whole tradition is influenced by a Eurocentric vision of the world that makes him a white Western European in flat contradiction to what history tells us about him.

I argue from faith and say that Sr Faustina did see a vision from God, and that (for all my reservations about the style of the painting itself) Christ did look like this. Furthermore, I would say, history backs this up. I will present the arguments in my next blog post on Friday…

May 2016 • World premier of major choral work and three-day conference for musicians and artists

I have just received early notice of the premier of a new major work by composer Frank La Rocca in Dallas, Texas on Saturday, May 21, 2016 at 8:00pm in Dallas, Texas. It is an oratoria called A Rose in Winter – the life of Saint Rita of Cascia. The original libretto is by Matthew Lickona.

The 90-minute work for chorus, orchestra, and soloists was commissioned by Saint Rita Catholic Church (URL) in Dallas, and is the brainchild of Alfred Calabrese, director of music at the parish.

The church is organizing a three-day conference entitled “High Above the Stars: Sainthood, Beauty, and Catholic Artistic Expression.” which will take place on three days prior to the performance (May 19 – 21. The conference is designed for musicians, artists, poets, theologians, and Catholic laity, and deals with the creation of sacred music and art, the promotion of beauty, and the quest for sainthood in everyday life. Masterclasses will be held for conductors, composers, and poets.

For more details, you can read a blog post on the Corpus Christi Watershed website written by Dr Calabrese, through the link here. We are told that a website with more details about the event and on how to register for the conference is coming soon. As soon as I have more information I will pass it on to you.

An essay on beauty, culture and the liturgy in the latest Antiphon Journal

I would like to draw your attention to the latest edition of the Antiphon Journal. As usual, all the writers are worth reading, and their names will be recognizable to NLM readers. I mention it particularly this time because of the subject discussed in one article, by Fr Chris Renz, called Liturgical Piety, Awe, and Beauty in a New Liturgical Movement”.

I was excited to get a preview of what Fr Renz has written. In it he discusses the importance of developing an authentic liturgical piety to the evangelization of the culture. He is thinking here of the creation of a Catholic culture in the widest sense of the word, what he calls an ‘everyday way of being Catholic’. He explains very well, I think just how powerful an influence the liturgy is on the way we are as people and how this is reflected in what we do. This is a topic close to my heart.

Fr Renz is the Academic Dean and Assistant Professor of Religion and the Arts and Science of Theology at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology (the DSPT) at UC Berkeley.

Paschal Candles

Here are some examples of Paschal candles created by Gina Switzer of Columbus, Ohio. Her parish is St Patrick’s in Columbus (the Dominican church in the city).

I give you this information for two reasons. First is that if your parish needs a paschal candle you might consider commissioning one from Gina. Her website ginaswitzer.com has details of how to order and the designs that she has done in the past. So far she has six main themes and churches ask for modifications that make it appropriate to their parish. On the Paschal page of the website there is a downloadable catalog that has details. Smaller candels also make good gifts, named candles for baptisms for example.

. I asked Gina about her methods and she told me the following: ‘We design and decorate liturgical grade, 51% beeswax Paschal candles. We have designed images that express Christological themes and so they are appropriate for their liturgical use. I create the artwork which is then reproduced onto a thin gelatin film. Metal leaf is applied by hand along with some hand painting directly onto the candle before the gelatin is applied, also by hand, to the candle. Because each candle is custom made to order, our basic designs can be tweaked to fit a particular parishes needs, for example the Dominican cross for a Dominican parish, a celtic border for St. Patrick parish, and so on.’

The other reason for writing about this is that I hope it might inspire other artists to do what Gina is doing. I am regularly asked by priests where they can get hold of Paschal candles as they find the designs in the usual catalogs unsatisfactory. There seems to be a dearth in the market .

 

 

Announcing the Sheen Center Catholic Artist Residency in New York City

Cole Matson, Artist-in-Residence, at the Archbishop Fulton J. Sheen Center for Thought and Culture, the Archdiocese of New York’s new arts center in downtown Manhattan, recently contacted my to tell me about the residencies that it is offering for early- and mid-career Catholic artists (of all disciplines, including the visual, literary, musical, cinematic, and performing arts). They invite graduating and recently-graduated Catholic arts students to apply.

Artist residents receive two to four months of free housing at the Sheen Center, a partially or fully subsidized work space (depending on artist medium and space availability), plus free invitations and tickets to Sheen Center events when available. There will be at least one showcase of the artist’s work at the Sheen Center (depending on artist medium and stated goals).

The residency does not include board, travel expenses, or a stipend. 

Cole tells me: ‘The purpose of the residency is to support the development of Catholic artists, as well as to further the Sheen Center’s mission of exploring the true, the good, and the beautiful. The residency should culminate in a final public project suitable to the artist’s medium and goals, and the artist should expect to contribute to the life of the Sheen Center during his or her residency.’

Catholic artists of all disciplines are invited to apply. Applications are being accepted on a rolling basis, with a limit of 3 artists-in-residence at one time. 

Those interested should apply by email only to Cole Matson at submissions@sheencenter.org. Applicants will be asked to supply a covering letter (no more than two pages) and a statement of intent. The statement of intent should include the number of months requested, how you envision using your time at the Sheen Center, and how this residency will further your artistic goals. He asks that you include in this discussion of the Sheen Center mission, how your faith informs your work, and what benefit this period in New York City would have on your work as an artist right now. In addition you will be asked to supply one to three short samples of your work, or photographs of your work.

For more information, visit: http://sheencenter.org/about/submissions/artist-residency/.

 

Denis McNamara on Sacred Architecture, Part 10: The Documents of Vatican II

This is the tenth and concluding video of the series. Throughout, Prof. McNamara has been referring to the documents of the Second Vatican Council, but in this he recaps and spells out the directives more clearly. He refers to the desirability of a “pious skepticism” towards innovation, an attitude that is open to change, but generally skeptical of it, and respectful of tradition. I think that this is the frame of mind which produces the “hermeneutic of continuity” that Benedict XVI referred to. Put simply, it says, don’t change anything unless there is a compelling reason to do so.

He then goes on to highlight what the Council did ask for in regard to art and architecture, which on the whole reinforces the principles of the desirability of noble and resplendent beauty. Then, in his understated and polite way, he concludes by saying that nobody should ever think that Vatican II ever meant anything other than what it actually said, just because it came at a time that was “unfriendly,” as he put it, to ornament, image and traditional architecture.

Denis McNamara is on the faculty of the Liturgical Institute, Mundelein; his book is Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy.

 

 

Denis McNamara on Church Architecture, 9: the church building as an image of the New Jerusalem

In the previous two discussions, about the nature of sacred images appropriate for the liturgy in the church, Denis spoke of how the liturgical art should portray those aspects of the liturgy that are present but invisible to us. This was predominantly the saints and angels in heaven participating in the heavenly liturgy. Now he turns his attention to the church building as a manifestation of the Heavenly City, the New Jerusalem as described in the Book of Revelation. He connects this future ideal with the temple of Solomon as described in the Old Testament and we, the people of the church are the living stones that constitute the Church, transformed symbolically into the idealized stones, the 12 gemstones that are at the gates of the Heavenly City.

Denis McNamara is on the faculty of the Liturgical Institute, Mundelein; his book is Catholic Church Architecture and the Spirit of the Liturgy.