Statues: What it means to beautify

I wrote most of the following post while on a beach in Malta. However, by the time I got to editing it, I had already flown back home to London because of the global COVID-19 pandemic. The basic sentiments I expressed still resonate with me so I leave this largely unaltered.

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One of many statues of Mary I encountered in Malta

I am on a beach in Malta today. It's quiet, maybe because the summer isn't here yet. If you haven't been, I think this is a lovely country to visit on holiday. Earlier on in this trip, I visited one of its several grand Roman Catholic parish churches. Many of them open their doors to tourists and so you see lots of people looking around and taking photos.

The concern people must have for this place of worship,
that they would want to work to maintain it.

I visited Collegiate Parish Church of St Paul's Shipwreck in Valletta (I took all these photos there). Inside it was clearly very old, with dark and ornate architecture (the style, I later found out, is called Baroque). The walls and high ceilings were covered with ornate paintings and golden embroidery. Work was still being done to parts of it to maintain or restore its ancient glory. I took several photos on my phone but as I looked at them, I knew my attempts at photography wouldn't do the place justice, especially with such low lighting.

Anyway, I was particularly struck by the statues. They were erected in every single one of the several tourist attraction-churches I visited. You couldn't miss them, they were so big, some of them on ornate plinths, dressed in gold-embroidered robes. Mary always looked European, with either a serene or victorious facial expression, and a halo of stars or sun rays around her head. Sometimes carrying a child Jesus, also European-looking and with the chubbiness of privileged infancy; like how people often depict cherubim (there were statues and paintings of cherubim too).

It was quite a contrast to my own church background, being a Reformed Baptist, and having been raised attending a Pentecostal church (both are Protestant/Evangelical denominations). In fact, at the end of that week, I attended a local church in Malta that is much closer to my theological beliefs, and there were certainly no statues in that building. I don't distinctly remember the building's decorations, which says a lot. I imagine the lack of statues in evangelical churches (typically, not absolutely) is partly in response to what evangelicals have no doubt seen in Roman Catholic churches, practice and pious material. Aversion to the idolatrous distractions of Roman Catholicism among evangelicals can lead to an understandable scepticism of art in general in the local church building or sanctuary.

I think that's some kind of demon under
Michael the Archangel's feet

I could go on for a while, describing other artistic and pious displays in St Paul's Shipwreck Church, such as the statue of Michael the Archangel, and the Eucharistic monstrance throne, but I will resist that urge and just upload some photos. But I bring up these artistic pieces because they made me think about the artists behind them, as art often does. The highly decorated building represents what the artists believed to be beautiful. I can empathise with the local worshippers, who would have wanted to beautify their place of worship. Art is a way of expressing what you treasure.

A helpful question here is, how does one "beautify" or make something beautiful? Three possible means come to mind:

1) by coating it in something beautiful

2) by forming or reforming it into something beautiful

3) by better displaying the beauty it already has

Eucharistic monstrance throne
Houses the pinnacle of Roman Catholic worship

I think the people behind the church's construction and those who now help maintain it will have sought to use all three of these means. I imagine they would have put their best efforts into it, and spent so much money to fund it. Because only the best will do for God, they may have said. 

Reformed Baptist churches are typically much plainer buildings, with "JESUS IS LORD" being the only wall decoration in some churches. There might also be a raised pulpit, perhaps because before the advent of microphone technology it aided the projection of the voice; some have also said it communicates to the people in the pew what the pinnacle of the church service is. Clearly both Roman Catholic and Reformed Baptist traditions claim to offer the public an encounter with God. One primarily via the offering again of the sacrifice of the Mass; the other primarily via the teaching of the bible, in which God speaks.

To bring up statues again, they truly are prominent in Catholic worship today. In fact, not only are they numerous and ubiquitous in Maltese Catholic churches but also outside of them, in Maltese shops, hospital wards, homes, they are everywhere here. A mainstream Roman Catholic explanation for these statues of Jesus, Mary and other saints is that the statues are reminders. We are told that if you see people bowing before these statues, kissing them or lighting candles in front of them, they are not necessarily worshipping these depictions. Catholic apologists say, rather, they are showing reverence and using these statues or images to picture the object of their veneration. It is also mainstream Catholic practice to pray to the saints that these statues depict, in the hope that they will intercede or mediate to God on their behalf. Protestants largely do not do these things, instead placing emphasis on mankind's free access to Jesus through faith in him.

One thing's for sure, protestants honour their heroes too. Though we (mostly) don't pray to, venerate (in the Roman Catholic sense of the word) or fall on our knees before them, we do follow our heroes. We read their work. We quote them and teach their insights to others. And in our prayers we thank God for their example; for his grace in keeping them in the midst of their adversities.

Despite the nuance of this issue, when I look at these statues, I still do so with some sadness. I think that's partly because of my displeasure with the Roman Catholic teachings (and common belief) that surround the statues. The thing about art is that when we make it, if we don't clearly define it, others can easily adapt it into an expression of their own. Suddenly it can mean things the artist never intended it to mean. This applies to church decorations, which might have one meaning to the artist - a beautiful display of something in the bible, but then can be adopted by other worshippers and attributed another meaning - a trophy of the best of Maltese artisan talent. Generally speaking, I see a similar mismatch in official national churches: the Church of England or the Roman Catholic Church, by the nature of their ecumenical spirit, seek to absorb a wide range of people, who bring along with them their wide range of conflicting beliefs. In doing so, perhaps inevitably, there exists within them compromises on key biblical teachings, such as the gospel.

I think it can be a good thing to beautify church buildings. Perhaps to help avoid wandering into saint veneration and worship, artistic expression in local church could represent the congregation more, the common people in the pew, the messiness of their real lives; instead of famous saints canonised by Roman Catholic Church decree. Familiar children, rather than cherubim. And how about art that reminds us of the gospel truths: of the forgiveness of sins through faith in Jesus, of free access to God through faith; the sufficiency of Jesus, and therefore faith in him; the believers' peace with God. And the believers' passion to grow to live more like Jesus, to the praise of God's grace alone.

It's probably too difficult to make pictures that say all of that. But we can say it with words. Indeed, words like "Jesus is Lord".

SI