In a recent column, I confessed that I rarely looked at the beauties of nature in reflecting on the mystery of God. I find my own experience of art more often speaks to me about the meaning and mystery of God than the beauties of nature. I was confessing and certainly was not bragging.
I am trying to be more sensitive to the beauties of nature. One reader contacted me and encouraged me to be more appreciative of nature’s beauty. I am trying. I certainly am not proud of my insensitivity to nature’s beauty.
Reflecting on my experience with art, especially novels, poems, films, and theater, I recalled two performances that were among the most powerful and moving I have ever had in a theater.
The first experience was seeing the marvelous musical “Les Misérables.” The second was seeing “Ragtime.”
I attended “Les Mis” with a married couple who are as enthusiastic about theater as I am. When the play ended, I applauded the production because it felt like pleasant entertainment. However, I was stunned by the reaction of most of the audience. I turned to look at those in the row behind me. The musical received a standing ovation. I think some people were cheering. Had I missed something special?
A few days later, I mentioned my lukewarm reaction to a friend, and he sent me a disc containing the musical numbers from the show. When I listened to the score, I was converted. I had the feeling that I had missed a masterpiece. How this had happened, I have no idea.
The musical even depicted the mystery of our share in the risen life of Christ. How could I have missed that? Listening to the disc, I was stunned. I had the feeling that, for whatever reason, I had missed the beauty of a truly great musical.
Since my first viewing of “Les Mis,” I have been invited by several groups to see the musical again. I eagerly accepted each invitation and was thrilled and inspired by each subsequent viewing of the musical. It is now my favorite musical. I don’t know of any other musical that so successfully dramatizes what Christians believe about the human person.
In August, a concert version of the show will be performed at Radio City Music Hall. Friends have arranged an outing to see the concert version and have invited me to join them. I am looking forward to attending. I find my whole experience with “Les Mis” mysterious, from my first encounter with the show to my current judgment that it is a real classic and the best musical I have ever seen.
My experience of “Ragtime” is less mysterious.
Over the past 20 years, I have seen the show four times. Every time was a special experience. Before seeing “Ragtime,” I had never cried at a Broadway show. At one performance of “Ragtime,” the tears were streaming down my face. I have recommended the show to everyone I know who loves theater.
The plot of “Ragtime” involves racial prejudice against people of color. The depiction of this evil is powerfully done. Every time I have seen the show, even though I am very familiar with the plot, the evil of racism seems to touch me in a new way.
In urging friends to see the play, I have described my experience of the show as similar to receiving a sacrament. What I mean by comparing my experience of seeing the show to receiving a sacrament is that it touched me deeply and spiritually. Viewing “Ragtime” for me seemed to be an experience of grace.
I suspect my experience of “Les Mis” and “Ragtime” is the experience of many, though they may not use the same theological terminology I do. That these two plays are exceptionally popular in our secular society, I find very encouraging. I am always looking at art that speaks to me about what I believe is most profoundly true about the human person.
I don’t think that my approach to theater, film, novels, and poetry is parochial. Nor do I think that it causes me to miss what may be present in works of art that do not have a religious theme, nor to read into works of art themes that are not really present.
I think the opposite may be true. Perhaps my approach may help me to see what is present in a work of art that might be missed by someone who approaches art with a very secular view.
I know that Catholic storytellers Walker Percy and Flannery O’Connor, in writing stories with Catholic themes, were concerned that their work might not be understood even by some critics. Perhaps in this column, I have separated the beauty of art too much from the beauty of nature. After all, in creating, artists are imitating a creative God.
Father Lauder is a philosophy professor at St. John’s University, Jamaica. His new book, “The Cosmic Love Story: God and Us,” is available on Amazon.com and at Barnes & Noble.