Pope Francis, Literature, & this Substack space
"For Christ plays in ten thousand places"
On August 4th, Pope Francis released a letter, “On the Role of Literature in Formation.” In it, he offered a forty-four-point accounting of the value of reading “novels and poems” for human formation.
I saw the letter shortly after its release, as it made its rounds in the Substack community where I find myself. As I read it, I felt a strange wave of validation I didn’t know I was missing.
I’m not Catholic. I don’t typically take my cues from the pope. I’ve also been long decided on the goodness and pursuit of the reading and writing life. If Pope Francis hadn’t written his letter I would have continued reading and writing fiction as I am now. If he had written a letter in opposition to reading literature, this post would be on opposing his opposition.
I think at the heart of this validation is a felt urgency for every Christian to read and act on the pope’s commendation. The Church (at least in this country) seems to have lost its way here. We have forgotten we are a storied people. We have forgotten that we know who we are by the very story told to us throughout the pages of Scripture. We snub literature and call it frivolous or mere “entertainment” without realizing that in doing so, we diminish the literature of the Bible, that very Word which tells us who we are.
But, enough of that. I’d rather share how the pope’s letter has also inspired me and helped move me toward a more abundant way of thinking about the direction of my writing as it relates to the R & W Substack space.
To do so, let me first offer some of my favorites of Pope Francis’s points, all of which speak directly to our beliefs and aims on R&W:
On literature as a living text:
“Readers in some sense rewrite a text, enlarging its scope through their imagination, creating a whole world by bringing into play their skills, their memory, their dreams and their personal history, with all its drama and symbolism…. A literary work is thus a living and ever-fruitful text, always capable of speaking in different ways.”
On literature’s role in opening dialogue between Christians and the culture:
“Literature also proves essential for believers who sincerely seek to enter into dialogue with the culture of their time, or simply with the lives and experiences of other people…. How can we reach the core of cultures ancient and new if we are unfamiliar with, disregard or dismiss their symbols, messages, artistic expressions and the stories with which they have captured and evoked their loftiest ideas and aspirations, as well as their deepest sufferings, fears and passions?”
On literature and its ability to fight against a disembodied Christ:
“The urgent task of proclaiming the Gospel in our time demands that believers, and priests in particular, ensure that everyone be able to encounter Jesus Christ made flesh, made man, made history…. It is precisely at this level that familiarity with literature can make future priests and all pastoral workers all the more sensitive to the full humanity of the Lord Jesus, in which his divinity is wholly present…. This is not the mystery of some abstract humanity, but that of all men and women, with their hurts, desires, memories and hopes that are a concrete part of their lives.”
On literature’s great good of moving us toward the other:
“In the reading, we immerse ourselves in the thoughts, concerns, tragedies, dangers and fears of characters who in the end overcome life’s challenges.”
“This is a definition of literature I like very much: listening to another person’s voice. We must never forget how dangerous it is to stop listening to the voice of other people when they challenge us!... This approach to literature makes us sensitive to the mystery of persons, teaches us how to touch their hearts.”
On literature and hearing the Word:
“Let us…listen to what German theologian [Karl Rahner] has to tell us. For Rahner, the words of the poet are full of nostalgia, as it were, they are like ‘gates into infinity, gates into the incomprehensible. They call upon that which has no name.’… Poetry ‘does not itself give the infinite, it does not bring and contain the infinite.’ That is the task of the word of God and, as Rahner goes on to say, ‘the poetic word calls upon the word of God.’ For Christians, the Word is God, and all our human words bear traces of an intrinsic longing for God, a tending towards that Word.”
Literature, then, sensitizes us to the relationship between forms of expression and meaning. It offers a training in discernment, honing the capacity of the future priest to gain insight into his own interiority and into the world around him. Reading thus becomes the ‘path’ leading him to the truth of his own being and the occasion for a process of spiritual discernment that will not be without its moments of anxiety and even crisis.”
On the spiritual power of literature:
Literature helps readers to topple the idols of a self-referential, falsely self-sufficient and statically conventional language that at times also risks polluting our ecclesial discourse, imprisoning the freedom of the Word. The literary word is a word that sets language in motion, liberates and purifies it…. It opens our human words to welcome the Word that is already present in human speech, not when it sees itself as knowledge that is already full, definitive and complete, but when it becomes a listening and expectation of the One who came to make all things new. (cf. Rev 21:5)
“Finally, the spiritual power of literature brings us back to the primordial task entrusted by God to our human family: the task of “naming” other beings and things (cf. Gen 2:19-20). The mission of being the steward of creation, assigned by God to Adam, entailed before all else the recognition of his own dignity and the meaning of the existence of other beings.”
These last quotes, especially, remind me of one of my favorite lines stanzas in poetry (I would say favorite, but I’m committed to my stance of not doing favorites). It is from “As Kingfishers Catch Fire” by Gerard Manley Hopkins:
For Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.For Christ plays in ten thousand places.
This is at the heart of what Rhea and I are hoping to give witness to on the Reader & the Writer: Christ playing in ten thousand places.
We see in literature language “set in motion,” drawing us out of ourselves and toward the Word; the One that made the language that made us and is making us still. In literature, there are echoes of Christ everywhere. When we come to any story—any work of art, in fact—in expectation and faith in the Word already present, we are gifted with what I call torn veil moments: peering into eternity and witnessing ways He is present and making all things new.
This is why, at the beginning of every podcast episode, we say: “Our lives, from their beginnings, are storied, and find their fullness when nestled securely within the Great Story: the one that opens, ‘In the beginning….’”
Literature helps us see Christ in the features of men’s faces. When we enter into the lives of characters, see as they’re seeing and feel as they’re feeling, it shocks us out of our selves: our complacency, our automatic assumptions we don’t even realize we are playing on loop inside our minds. It destabilizes us by forcing us to deal with a viewpoint or ideology or brokenness foreign to our own. This is a beautiful place to be. It’s the place of miracles: miracled seeing, miracled hearing, and—most important—miracled loving the other.
Toward this end, then, I hope the Reader & Writer Substack space grows ever deep and wide in witnessing the ways Christ plays in ten thousand places. I’m not entirely sure what this looks like, but some of my ideas include:
Sharing poetry along with a short commentary and prompts for helping you engage with the poem on your own.
Same with visual art
Same with music
Inviting you to read books with me (outside the R&W podcast) on the arts, artists, and maybe even the theology of the arts (don’t worry, I’m no theologian, so we’ll keep the discussion at entry level.)
Supplementing our story discussions on the R&W podcast with more wondering about how we are witnessing, as the pope quoting Rahner said above, the poetic word (i.e: the story) acting as a gate into infinity, into the incomprehensible, calling upon that which has no name.
I hope your excited about all this. I sure am.
In case you don’t want to scroll back to the top, you can read the pope’s letter in its entirety here. I commend it to you.
After you read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts on it! Leave a comment. Let’s have a discussion.
Thanks for this post, Shari! I didn't know about the encyclical.