E prayeribus unum

How one responds to "Prayer," the installation by artist James Webb currently at the Chicago Art Institute, depends a lot on what you bring to the exhibit. At first the different recordings coming from twelve speakers at the same time are pure cacophony. But what kind of cacophony: chaotic? joyous? competitive? coordinated? futile? 

Then, as one moves around the exhibit, individual voices can be distinguished: some speaking, some chanting, some singing, some in English, some not. A religious studies scholar might be able to identify all of the traditions represented; I am not that scholar, but I can tell you, because I read the curation (see picture at left), Webb records people from multiple traditions at prayer in the city where his art is exhibited. This is the 10th time the work has been exhibited, beginning in his native South Africa in 2000, and the first time in the United States. All those voices you hear at once were recorded in Chicago.

I came to the exhibit with a strong belief that diversity of all kinds can make a community stronger, and that no individual or group can contain all the knowledge the community needs going forward. (This has been one the core principles of this blog project all along.) I have always worshiped in the Christian tradition, and am quite comfortable there, but I have learned lessons and drawn inspiration from other traditions as well. I also think a lot of people have religious feelings that they themselves don't consider religious because they've been taught a more narrow definition of religion.

So when I hear the many voices raised to God (or however they refer to the ultimate reality), I hear pieces of the beautiful human mosaic that is Chicago--or any complex community, really. I hear their yearnings and their hopes and their fears, and I think I hear something of myself in each one. As long as we recognize our common humanity--a big if, given the depressing number of religious wars over the eons--the various bits that each tradition brings to the table adds to the wisdom of the whole community.

We were invited to kneel by the speakers to listen more closely to each prayer, but I found I could hear the chants and the singing just fine. I found myself listening more closely and critically to words spoken in English; I do have a rather hyper-verbal way of relating to the world. The Christian prayers asked, "through Jesus Christ our Lord and savior," for blessings on the whole city, and for peace (and in one case for attendees of the exhibit). I admit to hoping, rather than knowing, that's what the non-English speakers were praying for as well.

All of us can be particular at times, and can see other identities as rivals rather than fellow builders of community. But where each prays for all, the cacophony is productive, joyous, and beautiful. I thus found Webb's piece profoundly moving.

"Prayer" continues at the Art Institute through December 31, 2018.

SEE ALSO: Cynthia G. Lindner, "The Art of Prayer Meets the Prayer of Art," Sightings, 18 October 2018

Put off your shoes from your feet; for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.

--EXODUS 3:5 (RSV)