Music in Theology and Ethics

by Max L. Stackhouse, Stephen Colwell Professor of Christian Ethics

Something is often missing in the bigger picture in my field of ethics, a discipline related to theology and social analysis that deals with issues of right and wrong, good and evil, justice, love, and truth. Both systematic and ethical articulations frequently lack elegance and art, and thus do not commend themselves to the heart, to the intuition, to the creative impulses that are gifts of grace to believers. These articulations need to be complemented by a sense of "beauty" and "richness"—a thickness of aesthetic perception that recognizes the grotesque and the sublime, the dissonant and the harmonious, in life. We need a Christian aesthetic to match a Christian theology and a Christian ethics.

Our forebears knew this. They focused on a trilogy of issues—"the true, the good, and the beautiful," sometimes correlating them (in various ways) with "faith, hope, and love." Modern critical thinkers like Kant did, too. Moreover, every moment of church renewal has involved new forms of artistic creativity, as can be seen most clearly in the history of music and liturgy.

The long traditions of rhetoric, painting, poetry, music, and song in the context of faith indicate how important the aesthetic element is in framing a holistic understanding of the human relationship with God. Paul early advised us not only to teach and to admonish one another, but to sing together (Col. 3: 16). Preaching what is true and just can invite deep thought and a compassionate heart, but if the preaching is without art, if the setting does not suggest the beauty of God, and if the liturgy and music are not rich, then the fullness of the message is not conveyed.

Some argue that Jesus’ use of the parable was a verbal-aural art-form that both evoked visual mental portraits and demanded attention to literary style, creating an innovative aesthetic way of conveying multiple levels of theological and ethical insight by its artistic creativity.

Explorations into theology in my efforts to teach in the classroom and to write for the public in a way that is faithful to these insights may not always manifest the art to which I aspire; but it does shape my efforts. Moreover, it seems that for a civilization to stay focused on what is true and reasonable, on what is just and loving, it must have an aesthetic that makes the heart sing, and hear, with some "richness."

My efforts to address such matters have been deeply shaped by a forty-year conversation with my wife, Jean—a teacher of classical piano and of music pedagogy and a performer with many widely regarded musicians.

A decade ago, with a number of friends, we formed the Berkshire Institute for Theology and the Arts in western Massachusetts where the Boston Symphony Orchestra and a number of academics spend the summers. In a series of intensive weekends there and at PTS, we explore the spiritual and moral meanings of music and the artistic significance of faith. Church musicians, seminarians, pastors, seekers, and aesthetically hungry believers from several traditions join these explorations. All are invited. (For more information, call 413-274-6304.)