I am a customer of the Teaching Company, a great place to continue learning about the world. One of their courses is entitled “How Jesus Became God.” I was struck by the implication of this title. It is clear that the underlying assumption of the history professor giving the lectures is that Jesus was not God. The problem is that the discipline of history requires that assumption, and it is the hidden nature of this requirement that makes it troublesome.
Historians deal with “facts,” which is to say things that the historian counts as a fact, e.g., the historical record, archeological data, etc. The historian then makes reasonable surmises to fill in the gaps using certain protocols. For example, if early Christians said Jesus was killed in a degrading way, it is more likely true than if they said he died a noble death because normally people don’t brag about degrading things. This is particularly important in discussing the “historical Jesus,” because if Jesus were divine, the whole project would fail because anything becomes possible; surmises become untethered to “facts” because the true story is outside of history. The same problem arises in the natural sciences. Richard Feynman, the Nobel Prize winning physicist was known to disfavor the “god hypothesis” because he felt that it left him nothing to do scientifically and therefore he assumed that there was no god because his love of scientific inquiry forced him to make that assumption. Again, the problem is that the god hypothesis forces one outside of the natural, which is the subject matter of the scientific project.
Thus, the entire modern version of the Enlightenment project necessarily begins with the assumption that we are no more than material creatures living in a purely material world. This assumption is perfectly reasonable, in that it has great utility, as long as it is clearly advertised. As discussed in Part 1, however, we know more certainly than we know anything that there is a supernatural, i.e., more than material aspect to our natural existence. This fact, a supernatural reality outside the natural world of cause and effect (combined with the modern physicists’ problem saying exactly what “matter” is) leads away from empirical and toward Art as a necessary means of knowing what it means to be human. This is not to denigrate the sciences in any way; it is just to put them in their proper place. Science is a powerful tool, but it is just a tool to discover how the natural world operates, not to answer all or even many of our most important questions about our supernatural experience of life.
No. 56: It’s not about you
Here is an excerpt from a wonderful commencement speech given by Joyce DiDonato, the great Mezzo. You can watch it in its entirety at: http://www.joycedidonato.com/2014/05/27/the-juilliard-schools-109th-commencement-speech-joyce-didonato/
Perhaps my favorite truth:
It’s not about you. This can be a particularly hard, and humbling lesson to face – and it’s one I’ve had to continue to learn at every stage of my own journey – but this is a freeing and empowering truth. You may not yet realize it, but you haven’t signed up for a life of glory and adulation (although that MAY well come, and I wish with every fiber of my being, that it WILL come in the right form for every single one of you – however, that is not your destination, for glory is always transitory and will surely disappear just as fleetingly and arbitrarily as it arrived.) The truth is, you have signed up for a life of service by going into the Arts. And the life-altering results of that service in other people’s lives will NEVER disappear as fame unquestionably will. You are here to serve the words, the director, the melody, the author, the chord progression, the choreographer –but above all and most importantly, with every breath, step, and stroke of the keyboard, you are here to serve humanity.
You, as alumni of the 109th graduating class of The Juilliard School are now servants to the ear that needs quiet solace, and the eye that needs the consolation of beauty, servants to the mind that needs desperate repose or pointed inquiry, to the heart that needs invitation to flight or silent understanding, and to the soul that needs safe landing, or fearless, relentless enlightenment. You are a servant to the sick one who needs healing through the beauty and peace of the symphony you will compose through blood-shot eyes and sleepless nights. You are an attendant to the lost one who needs saving through the comforting, probing words you will conjure up from the ether, as well as from your own heroic moments of strife and triumph. You are a steward to the closed and blocked one who needs to feel that vital, electric, joyful pulse of life that eludes them as they witness you stop time as you pirouette and jettè across the stage on your tired legs and bleeding toes. You are a vessel to the angry and confused one who needs a protected place to release their rage as they watch your eyes on the screen silently weep in pain as you relive your own private hell. You are a servant to the eager, naïve, optimistic ones who will come behind you with wide eyes and wild dreams, reminding you of yourself, as you teach and shape and mold them, even though you may be plagued with haunting doubts yourself, just as your teachers likely were – and you will reach out to them and generously invite them to soar and thrive, because we are called to share this thing called Art.
One can say the same about the visual arts. It needs to be said not just to remind we artists that we do good, but also to recall why we should be doing it. Self expression is fine, but it is a merely selfish and egotistical act unless we remember that the real point and purpose of our art is to bring beauty into the lives of others.