Category: Religion and the Arts

I think one of the most interesting points that came up in class is how we often treat Religion Studies differently than other fields. It is considered a sensitive topic, largely because of how complex and ingrained religious identities are. Because of this sensitivity, it is treated differently than Biology, or Physics, or even other Humanities fields such as English or History. But the case is that diversity is needed in all of these fields. No one field should be made up entirely of people whose identity is so strongly ingrained in what they teach that they cannot teach it from a secular, academic perspective. If Islamic Studies or Jewish Studies or any other field is made up of people who identify with that people and bring that identity into all of their work, then we struggle to help others learn about that group and how it genuinely functions. You run into the risk of teaching theology more than religion. You do not need to be an outsider to study a certain group within the field of religion, but you should be able to put on your “outsider” hat in order to observe how that group functions and takes its place in the larger scheme of humanity.

When I first read and thought about Heschel’s choice of an orange instead of bread as a symbol of lesbians within Judaism, I agreed wholeheartedly. It seemed offensive to me to equate bread on Passover with lesbians in Judaism, symbolizing transgression and violation of Judaism. But as we discussed it further in class, I began to realize that, like any newly-founded tradition, the orange would lose its radicalism over time. It would cease to spark discussion about what it represents. Therefore, if we are looking for a symbol that would more strongly stand out and provoke conversation, bread on the Seder plate fits as it will always be out of place, left uneaten on this occasion, different from all other nights. It is more symbolic of the struggle of marginalized people, as to many their existence is just as shocking and transgressive as putting bread on the Seder plate. By choosing to include the bread, a person is recognizing and including those marginalized people that it represents. However, does that mean that those same marginalized people are truly out of place, like the bread would be? The bread is jarring and would spark discussions, it would never feel normal on the Seder plate because of its nature as that which is not eaten on Passover. Are we thus keeping marginalized people on the outside of acceptance? Are we equating them as being against the rules, as bread is against the dietary rules of Passover? While the transgression of bread at the Seder might provoke questions, that same transgression could be offensive to a marginalized person who is looking for acceptance, to belong at the Seder like everything else.

Zylberberg brings up blood several times a symbol of women and their experience of menstruation. I thought it was interesting that she did not connect and compare that with the other blood symbol in the Passover seder, the wine that is dipped out of the glass to represent the plagues. I think it is interesting how the blood orange is used to symbolize blood as a wonderful thing, when the wine as blood is meant to represent sorrow and pain. This does not necessarily detract from the blood orange’s symbolism, but it is an interesting juxtaposition.

I think one of the most interesting things we talked about in class this week was the idea of narratives in relation to art. The art tells a different narrative to insiders and outsiders, and different narratives can be placed onto the art in order to make it conform to popular discourse. The notion that Schenk repeatedly returns to of people placing meaning on the art of the catacombs that simply did not fit, in order to make sense of the art in church-approved context, is something important to be aware of when studying any aspect of art or religion. It is important to keep in mind the agenda of any source, primary or secondary, and take it into consideration when doing our own analysis.

It is interesting to see how the meanings of certain art styles and symbols evolve over time. The idea of light in art, and how it began with the flat gold halos of the Middle Ages to the Renaissance portrayals of light sources shining in a particular direction, creating shadows and depth, is fascinating. Similarly with the symbols the Christians adopted from the society around them, creating their own meaning from letters and symbols and acronyms. This reminded me of the notion that nothing is created in a vacuum, and nothing is entirely new. Everything that humans create is influenced by what they’ve seen in the past and what surrounds them. Images of the Good Shepard, or the fish and dove and other symbols were chosen by early Christians to represent their minority cult because those were the images that they recognized and could affix meaning to.

We talked a lot today about fine lines: between ritual and performance, religious and cultural, creative and productive, religion and ethnicity. One thing that we didn’t quite get a chance to discuss explicitly was Haynes’s ideas about creativity as they do or do not apply to the forms of Indian dance. Are those creative? If they are supposedly performed exactly as they have been for centuries, can they still be considered creative performance, despite lacking novelty? If it breaks from tradition, is it still religious? I think it goes back to perspective. The performer may experience their dancing as religious, even while the audience is viewing it merely as entertainment. Conversely, someone viewing a dance performance can experience it religiously, even if the performer does not intend it as such.

Today’s class was a good reflection of not only the ideas I’ve learned in the past few years, but the values as well. It was a solid reminder of why I chose to study religion and why I think it is so important. To be able to find that balance between relating to a movement and being critical of it makes all of the difference in understanding others and the world around us, making it easier to communicate effectively. Something that I’ve learned in my studies is the importance of the words we choose, and the meaning behind how we’ve chosen to phrase a certain claim or question. It comes up a lot for me, and I have friends and family who don’t understand why I will get so hung up on the precise wording of something, because no matter the intentions of the words chosen, the meaning they convey is decided by the reader. I am excited to have this opportunity to study religion with others who come from a similar background of understanding and caring about the theories and methods of the field.