Imperfect Vessels

Yesterday I became aware of the controversy currently surrounding the Catholic composer, David Haas. I wasn’t immediately sure how to respond. I do not question the truth of the allegations brought against him, there are just too many women over too long a time to doubt the validity of their statements, not to mention the apology he issued in July, which was just short of a confession. The question in my mind was based more in the response of the religious world to his actions. I read how he has been banned from performing at religious services in many diocese’s, which seemed appropriate to me, but I also read that these diocese’s were also banning the music he has written even when the man himself is not there. I was also concerned to read comments from friends and colleagues who felt the need to remove his music from the worship they lead as well, even though they are not Catholic. It raised a question for me. Does our ability to use art in a meaningful way depend on the lifestyle and reputation of the artist? Do the failures and imperfections of the creator taint and sully the works that person makes?

This was one of the first questions I had to face when I began studying art back in the 80’s. At that time, and because the question was framed in a vast and theoretical manner, I came to the conclusion that art could be meaningful no matter what you knew or didn’t know about the artist. I thought of people like Jackson Pollock. He was an alcoholic, unfaithful to his wife, and the drunken collision which claimed his life claimed the life of a friend and injured his mistress as well. This was not a person I would want to emulate on any level. And yet, I find his art to be very meaningful and potent. To this day it informs my own creative process on a profound level and remains one of my touchstones in the art world. I have been able to separate the art from the artist, and create meaning based on my experience of the art rather than the reputation of the artist.

This brings us to the current question, can the work of David Haas remain meaningful and useful in light of the recent controversy? Meaning is something each of us creates for ourselves every minute of every day. It’s what humans do. I have a small enamel painting that hangs beside my bed. The artist entitled it ‘the Good Samaritan’. It depicts two men in tunics, standing side by side with their arms around each other. To my mind, however, this is a picture of David and Jonathan. That may not have been what was intended, but it’s what I see. I allow the artist’s intention to add depth to the piece, but I don’t feel the need to negate my own experience of the piece to accommodate the artist.

It might also be instructive to think about the issues surrounding the music of David Haas in light of the life and work of Henri Nouwen. Like David Haas, Nouwen was guilty of a grave moral failing, at least a grave moral failing in the eyes of the Catholic church. He was gay. He was forced to hide that from the world in order to have his works published, but to this day his work remains meaningful to millions of Catholics despite the fact that his orientation has become common knowledge and the church continues to teach that homosexuality is unnatural and evil. They somehow look beyond their own distaste or judgments and find lasting value in his work.

I am not suggesting that homosexuality, an innate orientation that does no harm to anyone, and predatory behavior, which regularly hurts those surrounding the perpetrator, are the same thing. I am just pointing out that we are quite capable of getting past inconvenient or unsavory aspects of an artist’s life if we want to. I worry that the immediate trashing of the songs written by David Haas because of his lack of moral character, might be a knee-jerk reaction from a church that is deeply wounded by all the sexual misconduct scandals of the last twenty or thirty years.

Is it an overreaction? Probably. That’s only natural. I imagine over time much of his work will continue to be used or will come back into use as the memories of the current hubbub fade and people move toward a nostalgic relationship with his music, remembering how it created meaning for them in the past. I don’t want to criticize either of these reactions. I believe it is healthy to distance one's-self from inappropriate or even violent behavior. I also believe that the meaning that people have found in his music is valid, because that meaning is based on their own internal processing of the art he presented. To insist that his art must be destroyed because he has proven himself to be imperfect is to fall into the cult of personality and fail to see that art has a life of its own, separate from its creator.

That is not to say I disapprove of the church’s recent actions concerning the music of David Haas. Many years ago I heard a song by John Michael Talbot. I don’t remember the title at this point, but I do remember that I liked it. I began researching his music and, along the way, I found a fairly contemporary article where he was asked about homosexuality. While claiming not to be homophobic, he proceeded to spout the hard-line Catholic stance condemning it and made no apology for doing so. That ended my search for his music. I found it impossible to support a musician who had such contempt for me. I have friends who love his music, and I have even heard some of his songs used in very gay-friendly churches by gay musicians, but their inclusion always takes me out of the worship and sullies the whole service for me.

This morning I read a brief statement where a music director stated that they would no longer include the music of David Haas because they didn’t want to potentially trigger a response from a survivor of sexual assault. I understood that thinking and appreciated it. I wished that some of the music leaders at some of the churches I’ve attended would have used that same thinking around the music of JMT. None of the music written by either composer contain explicit triggers or controversial language, but their art remains tainted by their actions. While one artist will be excluded, for a while at least, as a result of those actions, the other won’t, because the church has been forced to face the results of unbridled sexism, but has yet to fully understand the damage caused through institutionalized homophobia.

This question, concerning an artist’s reputation, actions, and art in relation to the need for meaning from worshipers, and the current socio-political climate of the church, is complex. I am doing my best to keep an open mind and utilize the ‘both/and’ approach I was given in seminary, but I am also respecting my instincts and my gut feelings. I want to hold on to the theoretical framework that allows for an artist to be human, to fail at the most basic human interactions, but to find a kind of redemption through their art. Not as an excuse for the inappropriate actions, but as an acknowledgment that artists, like everyone else are imperfect vessels, and God can still use us, even in our brokenness, to speak great truths. At the same time, I have an intuitive understanding of why someone who has been hurt might not be able to “get past it” and just focus on the art. Sometimes the hurt is too great and the only remedy is to remove the art from the community. As I straddle this complexity, I hope for guidance from the Spirit, and I pray that others will resist the urge to act rashly, but will embrace the opportunity to act with compassion.