Many years ago, Sister Mary Francel stood in front of her fourth grade religion class at Christ The King School. To her wide-eyed students (including me), she told the story of “Moses and the Crossing of the Red Sea” by drawing it on the chalkboard. I recall a simple image. Two walls of water were separated by a broad path. A stick-figure Moses with outstretched arms and staff in hand, held back the raging sea. Pursued by their captors and in imminent danger, Moses ushered the enslaved Israelites to safety. The ordained leader illuminated the way forward with conviction and courage.
Sister then drew the view from a different perspective. Colossal walls of water crashed down on evil-doers intent on pursuing Moses and his followers. The bad guys were extinguished, swallowed up by the sea behind Moses. Seared in my memory is this lesson from her chalk talk: Goodness conquers evil, truth prevails, and the river opens for the righteous…someday.
Someday. I don’t recall Sister informing us that the Israelites were held captive for four hundred years waiting for a prophet to guide them to freedom. Rather, Sister conveyed an inevitability. Truth will prevail; surely goodness and mercy shall follow us all of the days of our lives. Amen.
I want to believe Sister’s lesson. But if I have learned anything over the past four years, it is this: Truth is the first casualty when authoritarians are hell-bent on maintaining power at any cost. Unprincipled leaders reluctant to shoulder the mantle of authentic leadership rely on crutches of spin, self-righteousness, bullying and brute strength to control everyone and everything. (I am speaking not only of the unfolding US constitutional crisis, but also of the colliding existential crises of climate change and an uncontrolled global pandemic.)
In the US, we have come to expect a smooth and steady flow of power from Administration to Administration. But at this moment, we find the promise of a peaceful transition and the hope of democratic principles converging at a log jam, an impasse created by the very people chosen to deliver us from evil. It has been only four years (not four hundred), but the chaos created by the lies and disruption wrought by an unhinged US President and other unharnessed authoritarians worldwide feels like an eternity. I pray we make it safely to the other side.
Like many, I am trying to make some sense of what is happening. To that end, I consider the role of art and what artists can offer a world in crisis. Some argue that art and art-making are at best distractions at times like these and at worst, gratuitous and self-indulgent. Conversely, others believe that the arts in all forms are critical to societies facing the problems of their time.
Toni Morrison said, “The best art is political and you ought to be able to make it unquestionably political and irrevocably beautiful at the same time.” It is an interesting perspective and one I wrestle with as it relates to my own art-making.
While my aesthetic continues to evolve, I am not inclined to make art with overtly political messages. Yet, I certainly appreciate and seek art that inspires and resonates, particularly at times in history that demand such attention. I am grateful to artists who have the vision and skills to create politically relevant work that is “irrevocably beautiful.”
I’ll leave it to Little Steven and The Disciples of Soul to make Morrison’s point and to play us out.
