Art and Religion

Opinion published in the Townsman, May 1 2008 edition

To describe Jon Berg as eccentric would truly undervalue the man. His unconventional nature exceeded even the most far-flung idea of how differently a man can see the world. Where we saw good prospects, he saw doom. Our day was his night. Just as maddening, the opposite was true. In situations we would abandon, he would stand fast. When we railed at a cruel world, he would tolerate its apathy, work quietly in his studio on Plochmann Lane and tell us to warm our hands by his amply fed woodstove.

He was a Woodstock artist; what else could he be?

During the thirty-five years I had known Jon he sculpted in wood. Most of his works are in bas-relief. His preferred medium was Honduran mahogany. Some of you may recall seeing his work in the Bear Café back in the 1970s, or perhaps you have seen his work more recently displayed proudly in homes you visit. Oriole Nine Cafe on Tinker Street has one of his pieces. His style over the years migrated from abstract to abstract expressionism to eye-fooling realism. People have tried to put on a jacket he sculpted in one of his rare in-the-round works. If one were to skillfully paint the flowers he raised from a plain mahogany board, I bet people would try to smell them. He was really that good.

To describe Jon as a successful artist in the monetary sense would be to truly undervalue him. The splendid manner in which he carved in the shadow of the world’s indifference is the finest statement of an artist’s commitment to his vision. He occasionally executed commissions, and some of the mahogany shavings scattered on his studio floor meant bread for the table. But the Internal Revenue Service would gain little by an audit of his finances. A large share of his works was given to friends. Jon had many friends. It is another wonder about the man that there is not one ex-friend of Jon’s.

There was the time in Woodstock’s long-gone era of cheap rent and less fawning over status when more of our artists resembled Jon Berg in nature. They worked much and earned little for their endeavor to explain us to ourselves or make our world prettier. Recently we have come to celebrate the watercolors of John Ernst who, as some of us can recall, traded away his work to strangers on the streets of Woodstock for as little as a can of beer. The young, expecting justice of our world, might imagine Ernst’s indignation if he saw his works now offered for as much as $1000. But those of us who remember Ernst know that so long as he had brushes, colors and paper, almost everything else was immaterial to him.

Jon’s life as an artist is a lesson for us. The rich and successful will always attract our attention. But like us, they are dust. What we do, our work, during our lives is all that is permanent. Its value is subject to judgment of the ages. Even those who profess no belief in God have something to tremble before.

Jon Berg, friend to so many of us, died recently at age 67. Jon Berg the artist has a long, steady life ahead of him.

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The Overlook United Methodist Church in Woodstock is doing its part to reduce its carbon footprint. On Saturday, April 26, the congregants offered up an “Italian Night,” a wonderful dinner and dessert serenaded by a succession of local musical talent. The food was delicious and the music a delight. Proceeds from the affair will go toward replacing single glazed windows with energy saving ones. It won’t be cheap; estimates have touched the stratosphere.

A scan of the national scene indicates a growing number of religious institutions deciding to do their part to impede if not turn back global warming. Our gluttonous use and waste of energy, and the concomitant transit of carbon from wells and mines to the atmosphere is beginning to be perceived as a moral issue. Not only is turning our planet into a sweltering hothouse not very ethical, neither is gobbling up the world’s legacy of resources.

The power of this subtle but significant shift from perceiving global warming as a matter of science to one of conscience is not to be underestimated. Thomas Jefferson had the mind to know that slavery was wrong, but it took a courageous and dedicated Abolitionist movement led primarily by religious conscience, and a rendering civil war, to finally end our scourge of human bondage. Just as slavery had been justifiable in the minds of our ancestors simply because ‘it’s been around for so long’ and ‘everybody does it,’ so is the profligate waste of energy and wanton use of fossil fuels justified in ours.

It was not always so. Frugality, a word now so quaint we expect to find it armed with blunderbusses, had been a guiding principle for most of our history. Luxury, another word for profligacy, used to be an extravagance whereas now many of us see it as an entitlement. Even some of the ‘greenest’ people look for conspiracies by the ‘big corporations’ to deprive us of the right to cheaply plunder our earth’s resources, rather than see the recent spike in energy costs as a golden opportunity to move the nation toward efficiency and a return to husbandry (another lost concept).

The question is for you to decide. Will we save the planet by investigating big corporations, or by seeing the pollution of our atmosphere as morally repugnant? If American history is any guide, the answer is obvious.

And dare I say hopeful? A joy of Woodstock’s many different houses and temples of worship is the mingling of generations. To see all ages ranging from the very young to the very old come together not only to worship, but to cherish Creation as well, is very, very hopeful. The congregants of the Overlook United Methodist Church not only served a wonderful supper and showcased charming musical talent; they restored trust in our hearts and in our future. They, and all Woodstock’s religious institutions that follow their example, deserve the same appreciation we give to ardent environmentalists.