Think About These Things: Five Christian Questions on Art

Do you sometimes leave a movie feeling totally bowled over—only to find that the next day you can’t quite explain why you thought it was so great? Have you ever dragged friends and family to a film you loved, and then suddenly realized with horror that it wasn’t appropriate or worthwhile? If so, then you’ve probably allowed the emotional power of art to overcome your better judgment, and you aren’t alone. We all need guidelines to modulate our reaction to various kinds of art: movies, books, music—even video games and YouTube clips. Following below are five questions to ask when responding to these experiences from a Christian perspective.

(1) Exactly What Is Depicted?

Blaise Pascal insisted that the first of all moral obligations is to think clearly, which will apply to our reception of art as well. We must receive the material on its own terms and make an honest effort to understand exactly what it says and does—even if we dislike it. “Your beliefs will be the light by which you see,” wrote Flannery O’Connor, “but they will not be what you see, and they will not be a substitute for seeing.”1

(2) Does It Offer Goodness, Truth, and Beauty?

Try weighing the work against Paul’s famous dictum in Philippians 4:8: “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” Not only does this make a terrific template for analyzing art, but it also suggests that we need not limit ourselves to works produced only by Christians. The terms in this list do not reflect the overt Christian virtues listed, for example, in Matthew 5:3–11 or Galatians 5:22–23. Rather, they are taken from ancient Greek philosophy, and thus they establish ground on which Christians can enjoy “the best values that the world has to offer.”2

As John Calvin famously said, “All truth is from God.” Because of this, we can receive and ponder truths about nature, about human experience, and even about the different beliefs of others. If this helps us understand the world around us, then it may also enable us to meet that world where it is—and to preach the gospel in terms it can grasp. Perhaps that’s why the apostle Paul wandered around the Areopagus, carefully studying its offerings, before he preached his first sermon to the pagan world.

And lest we are tempted to dismiss beauty as negligible in comparison to truth, recall that even God’s holy book is not a bare list of theological propositions, but a rich tapestry of stories, poems, biography, parables, and history. Likewise, Jehovah’s Old Testament dwelling was a palace of gold and cedar, crammed with carefully made furniture, paintings, tapestries, and sculptures—as well as tangible object lessons such as blood sacrifices, lampstands, and a loaf of bread.

As for goodness, we need to ask whether the movie, book, or song makes us more likely to act in a holy, loving fashion. Or, by contrast, does it encourage selfishness and immoral behavior—perhaps through unnecessary profanity, violence, or sexuality? It may also endorse bad conduct by making sin seem fun, by getting us to root for patently evil characters, by belittling upright behavior, or by not offering worthwhile characters as a contrasting baseline.

(3) How Much Is Too Much?

One key word in the foregoing paragraph is unnecessary. Since every Christian wonders where to draw the line in terms of sex and violence, we might start by asking whether the graphic content actually reveals anything important about the characters, the storyline, or the theme. This handy question eliminates a vast majority of today’s explicit material, most of which exists out of mere laziness or a desire to grab the viewer’s attention. In fact, as Gene Veith has observed, outrageous content often kills attention rather than ensuring it: When we turn away in disgust, or become sexually aroused, this actually breaks the aesthetic spell, jarring us out of the created world and back into our own. For any artist, this should be a no-no.3

At the same time, even Scripture sometimes finds it necessary to be graphic and explicit. If you doubt this, try reading Judges 3:20–24, Ezekiel 23:20, or Song of Solomon 7:7–8. I’ve examined such material at length in my book Sex and Violence in the Bible (P&R, 2014), observing that God’s word is sometimes astoundingly frank; yet such passages compose only a small percentage of the Bible’s overall content—much less, shall we say, than a film by Quentin Tarantino or Lars von Trier.

As Scripture itself demonstrates, it isn’t always wise to judge a work solely on its graphic content. Doing so tends to reduce a film or book to a bald list of murders, swear words, and sex scenes, rather than engaging its overall worldview. As Leland Ryken writes in The Liberated Imagination:

The question that a Christian must therefore answer is, Does the moral or intellectual significance of a work exceed in value the possible offensiveness of any of its parts? The answer will vary from individual Christians with individual works, and it will even vary for the same person from one occasion to another.4

As this quote suggests, it’s risky to make hard-and-fast rules about what we can and cannot watch. As with alcohol, games of chance, and other permissible but problematic issues, some folks are naturally more sensitive than others. In my own case, past struggles with pornography make it imperative that I avert my eyes during almost any scene involving nudity or graphic sex. I won’t make a similar rule for you, but I will say this: If you’ve never had to draw the line—to say to yourself, “This is something I just can’t watch”—then you probably aren’t doing it right.

(4) Can We Separate Artistic Excellence from Absolute Truth?

C. S. Lewis once insisted that he could appreciate certain works even if he disagreed with what they were saying. Someone who truly loves literature, he wrote, should be like a college professor grading tests “prepared to give the highest marks for the telling, felicitous and well-documented exposition of views he dissents from or even abominates.”5 We can recognize, for example, the skill that goes into a dazzling visual feast such as Ang Lee’s 2012 Oscar-winning film Life of Pi, even while we acknowledge the falseness of its message that all religions are equally valid. If we cannot make this separation between skill and content, then when we come to a work of art made with undeniable excellence, we fail to exercise the wisdom and discernment requisite to properly engage with art.6 This would be the ultimate exercise in allowing feelings to trump what you otherwise know to be true.

(5) Does It Make You More Loving, Joyful, Patient, Peaceful, Gentle, Thoughtful? Or Less?

Careful readers will recognize the Galatian fruits of the Spirit in this final heading. It is indeed worth asking whether the book, movie, or song helps foster these qualities—perhaps even in unbelievers. To phrase this question differently: Does the work refine our sensibilities rather than blunt them, as so much contemporary culture tends to do?7

I once heard a composer state that the function of art was to spread around as much sanity as possible. It seems to me a lot of what passes for “art” nowadays has basically the opposite effect. According to Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary, the word amuse originally meant “to divert the attention so as to deceive.” I fear this is what much modern “amusement” does—whether it’s a pop song whose polished, tuneful noise precludes understanding the lyrics, or an over-the-top action movie with so much chaos that you can’t even stop to figure out whether the plot makes sense. Like the “idle songs” condemned in Amos 6:5, much of the ambient culture we live in has the effect of preventing thought rather than fostering it. As one MTV executive put it, “We rely on mood and emotion. We make you feel a certain way as opposed to making you walk away with a particular knowledge.”8

Conclusion

So we’re back to where we started. In a culture that increasingly refuses to think clearly, it’s getting harder to communicate effectively, to understand one another, and of course to share the gospel. As Ken Myers puts it, “The aesthetic of immediate and constant entertainment does not prepare the human consciousness well for recognition of a holy, transcendent, omnipotent, and eternal God, or to responding to his demands of repentance and obedience.”9 If the work of art contributes to this spiritual and aesthetic deafness, then it is not helping make the world a better place.

Let us strive instead to create and promote art that spreads around sanity, promoting community, and compassion that is—in Paul’s words—honorable, pure, excellent, noble, and worthy of praise. We simply must apply these scriptural principles to everything in life—including what we watch, listen to, and recommend. In the well-known words of Abraham Kuyper, “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’”10 And that includes the arts.

Joseph W. Smith III has been a teacher, writer, speaker, and OPC officer for more than twenty-five years. His latest book is Open Hearts: Recovering the Lost Christian Virtue of Transparency.