Faith and Contemplation in the 2020s

In Joseph Ratzinger’s (Pope Benedict XVI’s) book, Introduction to Christianity, written in 1968, he pointedly asks an important question that has stuck with me this year. Even though 1968 was 56 years ago, his question seems even more relevant today.

“What is the meaning and significance of the Christian profession, ‘I believe’ today, in the context of our present attitude to reality as a whole?” (Ratzinger, 47).

This question seems timely for our society today, and it encompasses a framework I think about as a Catholic in the 2020’s. I live in a saturated world filled with curated algorithms, comment boxes, and short-form video—a world so vastly different than my childhood not too long ago in the 1990s and early 2000s. I also live in a world where deconstructing faith and religion seem to be the norm. I’m not oblivious enough to not know that I’m a bit of an anomaly, a Catholic convert who attempts to practice their faith in the 21st century in an old traditional religion.

Oh, I also live in the Bible Belt where our Catholic diocese is so small that it’s considered a mission diocese. How did I end up in this spot? It’s a grand mystery for sure, but I’ll say that I’m partly where I am today due to contemplation, a practice that allows us to think long and deeply about life and what we do. Creativity brought me to this spot. Allowing myself space to create art allows me to move into the deeper spaces and contemplate what is true and what is false in the world. I think deeply in the same way people think deeply about deconstructing their religious experiences. It’s not bad to contemplate why you believe what you do, whether you currently believe or not.  The point is to be honest with yourself and open your heart to what could be. It is not about what originates from inside, but from how you respond and ruminate over external messages:

“It becomes evident that belief is not the result of lonely meditation in which the ‘I,’ freed from all ties and reflecting alone on the truth, thinks something out of itself; on the contrary, it is the result of a dialogue, the expression of a hearing, receiving, and answering that guides man through the changes of ‘I’ and ‘you’ to the ‘we’ of those who all believe in the same way” (Ratzinger, 90).

I’m viewing all of this the lens of my Catholic faith, which was not an easy decision when I was first introduced to the religion. It’s not like God struck me with a stained glass window and I suddenly believed everything all at once. It was a gradual introduction into specific concepts that I had to slowly open my heart to. That’s the key to all of this. How do I open my heart? Discernment is all about deep reflection and judgments of the heart.

So going back to Ratzinger’s question: what does it mean for me to say, “I believe” in 2024? This blog will explore this question. This blog is a reflection of my theodrama, a term coined by Swiss theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar. The theodrama is a metaphor that pictures God as a playwright and we as actors in his grand story. This blog is a reflection of my little scenes in his grand story. I will post fortnight (bi-weekly) reflections about discernment, my creative musings, and how the daily vocation of an artist and writer tries to unravel the mystery of belief in the 21st century. You can anticipate posts about philosophy, theology, and the random creative tangents I have. One week may be about fountain pen inks, and another may be about photography and typewriters. But all these reflections play a part in my little role in this grand scheme.

The Book of Kells and Visual Prayer

Recently I’ve become fascinated by the Book of Kells—a visual interpretation of the four Gospels based on the Latin Vulgate translation by St. Jerome. The book was created by Irish monks in Iona around the year 800. When the Vikings raided the area, the monks moved to Kells and brought the manuscript with them. The Vikings would later raid Iona, but amazingly the book was kept in tact and safe. Finally, in 1661, the book was sent to Trinity College in Dublin, where it still remains to this day. 

The book itself is a gorgeous compilation of bold, illuminated imagery along with small, intricate details. The celtic knots are easily seen throughout these intricate details, showcasing how God can easily plant himself within the confines of unique cultures and show himself in a way that everyone can understand. 

Page from the Book of Kells

Researching this book makes me think about how images affect our understanding of the world around us and our faith. In our modern, highly literate age, we search for hard truth about situations. In the western culture, the battles line are drawn using well-crafted rhetorical arguments with a firm knowledge of grammar and sentence structure. While our world is becoming increasingly multimodal with through social media, memes, images, colors, and design, our instinct is to seek as much detail as possible through the written and spoken argument. 

And mostly that is a good thing. Written and spoken arguments are the best way to show others who we are and what is important to us. However...when it comes to our faith, I think it's easy to put too much importance on that type of expression.

For example, when it comes to figuring out what God wants us to do with our lives, it's easy to desire God to give us an answer in a well-crafted written or audible argument with beautiful grammar, bells, and angels. When God doesn’t do that, it seems like He isn’t paying attention to us. The more likely scenario, however, is that we aren’t paying attention to Him. God can show the goodness of His truth in a myriad of ways besides words and sentences. He can speak to us through His creation, in colors, shapes, movements, smells, sounds, and textures. God speaks to us through the rational and the abstract.

Another example of visual prayer is the gorgeous iconography that is showcased throughout the Eastern Orthodox and Eastern Catholic churches. These churches have emphasized the importance of praying and listening to God through visual media for thousands of years. They believe that icons are windows into the mystery of heaven, which further emphasize the mysterious nature of the Kingdom of God. Sometimes the greatest form of peace is just sitting in silence and being in awe of the mysteries of God. Sometimes the best thing we can do is stare at a picture of the gospel messages and see where we fit in those pictures. Without words. Without speaking. One of the greastest penance’s a priest gave me after confession was to sit in front of a picture of the Divine Mercy image of Jesus. That’s it. Sit and stare at a picture of Jesus. 

Icon depicting Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem

The Book of Kells and Eastern Iconography remind us that the gospels are not only imperative to read and hear, but also see through shapes, colors, and visual metaphors. Language is the best means of producing a message to the world, but sometimes people will not truly understand the meaning of purpose to your words without further elements such as the visual art form.  

Marshall McLuhan

I can’t think of a better example to begin the blogging process of design, media theory, and theology with than Marshall McLuhan. He is renowned for his contribution to media theory in the 20th century, and is best known for the iconic phrase, “the medium is the message.”

Essentially, McLuhan argues that the medium in which content and ideas are delivered on frames one’s perception over the actual message itself. For example, when we read an article in the newspaper, we are more influenced by the structure of the newspaper itself than the content of the article. While I don’t completely agree with the extremity of that notion, I do wholeheartedly agree that the medium in which we consume content plays a huge role in the way we perceive and understand a message being delivered. Design, good and bad, influences the way we view the world. 

Another fascinating contribution was his prediction of what we now know as the internet. In the 1960s, he predicted that traditional print culture would be replaced by a “global village” that relied on “electronic interdependence” and would turn humanity from an individualistic culture to a global tribal system. Looking to how our world has changed so much over the past few decades, it’s interesting to sit and read his predictions. And I think it takes a while to answer whether his predictions are correct or not. 

Not only was he an influential media scholar, but he was also a devout Catholic convert! While studying at Cambridge, he stumbled onto the writings of GK Chesterton (a great choice). He later wrote that if it wasn’t for Chesterton’s writings, he probably would have still been agnostic.

It makes me wonder how his faith transition influenced his perception of media theory and design. The Mass is full of imagery that has all kinds of special meaning, even in the smallest details. In a way I can see how the term, “the medium is the message” can fit into the rhythm of the Mass. While faith and belief manifest in a number of ways individually, it is, Catholics believe, the structure of the Mass that brings us to the source and summit of our faith.

It has taken generations to compile an intricate system of design, from the movements of the priests, deacons, and parishioners, to the words that are spoken at every moment, to the type of music sung at each point,  to the images that are presented at specific points in the sanctuary. Those elements together form what we believe to be the “magnum opus” of our faith. While reading scripture is important, it is only one element to the vast sensory experience that brings us to calvary. Surely, that experience had some influence to McLuhan’s thought process. 

Hello, World! A New Season and Site is Born.

Welcome to my new site! In case you're new to my world, my name is Lydia. I am a recent graduate with a Master's degree in Technical Writing. Since graduating, I've noticed I have many sites, portfolios, and blogs sprawled about the internet sphere, and a greater number of ideas sprawled throughout my brain.  In college, I majored in technical writing, took classes in art, photography, and design, and also converted to the Catholic Church. Due to that, I have sites that pertain to writing, photography, and a big blog site dedicated to whatever suites my fancy. Now that I've had time to look back at my mish-mash of content, thoughts, papers, photos, and drawings, I figured it would be a good idea to place everything i've done in one concise, organized site. 

So...what about the blog? 

I've dedicated a lot of time over the years discussing my life as a college Catholic convert over on my page tiberswimmer.wordpress.com. It's been fun to practice the rhythm of blogging. Because it was first go at blogging, there really wasn't a consistent theme throughout my posts.  I will still write on the blog from time to time, but I want to begin blogging about a particular theme. This blog will investigate all of my ideas about everything I'm fascinated about:

-tech writing (specifically, information design, information flow, usability design, writing in general),
-graphic design (color theory, contrast, typefaces, etc.)
-photography
-theology

But wait, there's more!

Not only will I be discussing about these topics and my observations of them in my daily life, but I'm going to find investigate how these topics are all connected to each other. How does the structure of scripture affect how we perceive it? How do people perceive certain aspects of design in churches?  This is what I will be discussing. I want to look at how art, design, and writing affect what I see around me every day. I hope you stay along for the ride.