The art that inspires our faith lives

A Reflection for Tuesday of the Second Week of Lent

Find today’s readings here.

Last week, I traveled with some colleagues to the West Coast, where we attended the Los Angeles Religious Education Congress and also visited Loyola Marymount University, where we spoke on a panel about our experiences of vocation and public witness as Catholic journalists.

Our thoughtful moderator posed an opening question to the group that I absolutely loved: “What is a piece of media—literature, television, podcast, film, anything—that captures and ignites your faith?” When I first heard the question I was excited, thinking about how many different directions I could take it in. But after a moment of thought, I realized there was only ever one answer for me. It was sitting right under my nose so obviously that before I began writing this, I had to double check the archives to make sure I hadn’t written this very reflection before.

I fell in love with the musical “Les Misérables” when I was a preteen. And I’ll be honest, I was weird about it. My response to the piece was obsessive; it resulted in the kind of devotion that perhaps only a 12-year-old girl can really have. I watched my version of choice (the concert version performed at the O2 Arena in London in honor of the show’s 25th anniversary—if you know, you know) over and over. I listened to the songs and I cried. 

There isn’t much art I loved at 12 that I still love today, but “Les Miz” is on that short list that has held up for me. It reflects two of the convictions I hold most closely as a result of my Catholic faith. The first is that redemption is possible for every human being, no matter who they are or what they’ve done. The second is that God is present in a special way in the life experiences of poor people.

That first conviction is the one I see in today’s first reading from the Book of Isaiah. Though this early section from the prophetic book serves as an indictment of Israel, the reading for today accounts for the possibility of cleansing and ultimate righteousness, even for those who have fallen out of step with God. As the prophet says in the voice of the Lord, “let us set things right.” There is striking imagery using color, describing sin as red and purification as white. While the red of sin may seem permanent, with God’s power even the deepest color can be washed away and made clean.

Redemption, and with it the possibility of a fresh start, is God’s way. It’s not because our sins were never that serious. It’s because God can change, transform or rehabilitate anything or anyone, and God lives in each one of us.

When I was a young girl, I couldn’t have articulated any of this. I wasn’t quite sure why the themes in “Les Misérables” spoke to me so deeply. All I knew was that they did. I can look back now and see that the grandiosity of the score, the lushness of the voices and the orchestra, and the drama of the story pushed me past the realm of humanity and pointed my eyes (and ears) toward something divine. There was wisdom in the piece for me to receive, and it took years for it to germinate, for my mind to connect it to my prayer life and personal spirituality. In the meantime, God spoke to me simply through music—and through the depth of my feelings in response—pulling me ever so slowly toward the most important truths a human being of faith can possibly know.

Is there a piece of art or media that has inspired your faith life? (I hope so!) Powerful art stays in our bones, helping important themes click in a way that lasts. When I consider the theme of redemption in Scripture and in the teachings of our faith, I will forever think of Jean Valjean, of “Les Miserables” and of the little me that God took the time to speak to through song.

• Facebook
• X
• Mail