I went to the Seattle Art Museum (the “SAM” for those fond of abbreviations) with Beautiful yesterday. While there, we did all the things that one does when at museums of art. We oohed and awed over the Roman sculptures on loan from the Louvre*, were struck by how a simple portrait of a woman can carry so much emotion, stared blankly at modern art wondering what meaning a multicolored toilet could have, and made fun of art students.**
You see, the tragically funny thing about art students is that they are so passionate about something that most people don’t really care much about beyond the initial “ooh, pretty” or “holy cow, what were they thinking” reactions. But art students (easily recognized by their unkempt hair, clothing just frayed enough to be hip, and the startling ability to stare at a blank canvas for hours searching for meaning) never simply see a painting. They see essays in acrylic.
And now, for you reading pleasure, an example exchange between two art students staring at a net hanging on a wall, in reference to the informational placard mounted to the wall next to the net:
Student 1: You can’t just read the card, man.
Student 2: [Blank stare.]
Student 1: People walk up to this, and they read the card.
Student 2: [Slightly glossed blank stare.]
Student 1: I mean, the art isn’t the card. You can’t just read the card, say, “That’s nice,” and move on. That’s not what the artist wants.
Student 2: [Fully glossed blank stare, drooling slightly.]
Student 1: You can’t get it by reading the card. You have to question it, study it, observe the art. It takes, you know, time and passion and commitment and… I don’t know… living to get the art. But… man… it’s the cards.
Student 2: [Wipes away drool.] Yeah man. Totally.
[Off to the side]
Me (to Beautiful): I bet it’s for catching fish.
Beautiful (to me): [Disapproving stare.]
To me, standing on the sidelines and looking at the net hanging on the wall, the earnest art students looked pretentious. It looked (and still looks) like they’re trying to make a mountain out of a speck of dust. Like they’re so intent on making meaning in every brushstroke (or knot, in the case of the net) that they create meaning where there is none. It makes me wonder how much of art commentary is real, and how much is smoke and mirrors to distract you from the fact that underneath all the academic verbiage, there’s really nothing but a puddle of ink.
And then, because mocking art students always puts me in an introspective mood, I wondered if that’s what people see when they look at Christians. I wonder if they see all the theological machinations, or tradition-forged holy rites, as so much hand waving and metaphorical slight-of-hand to hide from ourselves that we’re really just biological machines bound to wear out and die.*** I can remember trying to explain my faith to a coworker, and I can’t help but think I sounded much like those art students: earnest and at least superficially honest, but, at least to the listener, doing nothing but blowing smoke. After all, don’t most people just look at God and say “ooh, pretty” or “holy cow, what were they thinking”?
Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t share the Gospel. I’m not saying that Christianity is smoke and mirrors. What I’m doing is wondering out loud if people see us how we think we’re being seen. And, while I’m being honest, I guess I feel a little guilty for making fun of the art students. Just a little though.
*It’s my sad duty to report that “Louvre” is not pronounced “loo-ver.” It should be though.
** To be completely accurate about that, I made fun of the art students, and Beautiful looked at me with mild reproach.
***If you haven’t read this site in the past, please know that I don’t believe we’re simple biological machines.
You see, the tragically funny thing about art students is that they are so passionate about something that most people don’t really care much about beyond the initial “ooh, pretty” or “holy cow, what were they thinking” reactions. But art students (easily recognized by their unkempt hair, clothing just frayed enough to be hip, and the startling ability to stare at a blank canvas for hours searching for meaning) never simply see a painting. They see essays in acrylic.
And now, for you reading pleasure, an example exchange between two art students staring at a net hanging on a wall, in reference to the informational placard mounted to the wall next to the net:
Student 1: You can’t just read the card, man.
Student 2: [Blank stare.]
Student 1: People walk up to this, and they read the card.
Student 2: [Slightly glossed blank stare.]
Student 1: I mean, the art isn’t the card. You can’t just read the card, say, “That’s nice,” and move on. That’s not what the artist wants.
Student 2: [Fully glossed blank stare, drooling slightly.]
Student 1: You can’t get it by reading the card. You have to question it, study it, observe the art. It takes, you know, time and passion and commitment and… I don’t know… living to get the art. But… man… it’s the cards.
Student 2: [Wipes away drool.] Yeah man. Totally.
[Off to the side]
Me (to Beautiful): I bet it’s for catching fish.
Beautiful (to me): [Disapproving stare.]
To me, standing on the sidelines and looking at the net hanging on the wall, the earnest art students looked pretentious. It looked (and still looks) like they’re trying to make a mountain out of a speck of dust. Like they’re so intent on making meaning in every brushstroke (or knot, in the case of the net) that they create meaning where there is none. It makes me wonder how much of art commentary is real, and how much is smoke and mirrors to distract you from the fact that underneath all the academic verbiage, there’s really nothing but a puddle of ink.
And then, because mocking art students always puts me in an introspective mood, I wondered if that’s what people see when they look at Christians. I wonder if they see all the theological machinations, or tradition-forged holy rites, as so much hand waving and metaphorical slight-of-hand to hide from ourselves that we’re really just biological machines bound to wear out and die.*** I can remember trying to explain my faith to a coworker, and I can’t help but think I sounded much like those art students: earnest and at least superficially honest, but, at least to the listener, doing nothing but blowing smoke. After all, don’t most people just look at God and say “ooh, pretty” or “holy cow, what were they thinking”?
Now, I’m not saying we shouldn’t share the Gospel. I’m not saying that Christianity is smoke and mirrors. What I’m doing is wondering out loud if people see us how we think we’re being seen. And, while I’m being honest, I guess I feel a little guilty for making fun of the art students. Just a little though.
*It’s my sad duty to report that “Louvre” is not pronounced “loo-ver.” It should be though.
** To be completely accurate about that, I made fun of the art students, and Beautiful looked at me with mild reproach.
***If you haven’t read this site in the past, please know that I don’t believe we’re simple biological machines.
Comments
But I definitely have a lot more respect for people who can talk about their faith in a way that sounds both natural and well-informed.
You made a good analogy, I think.