Your theology. Your drug. My theology. My drug.
We want so much to be true that we’ll believe it.
I watched a fascinating documentary last night, Beltracchi: The Art of Forgery. Beltracchi estimates that he forged at least 300 paintings of masters that are probably still in circulation. He wouldn’t copy a painting, but instead got into the head of the artist and painted a piece of one of the artist’s missing works or do an original from a gap period in the artist’s career. Genius!
But what I found most fascinating was how it all worked. Beltracchi, as well as art critics, historians, gallery-owners, auction houses, analysts, collectors, police, etcetera, all knew that there was so much money floating around out there desperately looking for new works that the market bore his forgeries. Everyone, all the way through the chain, desperately wanted it to be true… that a lost work of a master had been discovered. Everyone participated in the scam, not just Beltracchi. So everyone paid and got paid. Including the forger.
The parallel is unmistakable. We often so want something to be true that we will suspend good reason, common sense, intelligence, rationality, doubt, skepticism, honesty, reality itself, in order to believe and possess it.
I love theology. Like I love art! But I love theology, and art, when it is true and gets close to articulating what is.
It took, and it takes, a great deal of courage, even anger and a strong sense of justice I suppose, for someone to finally call foul!
If you’ve come to that point in your life where you’re doubting the authenticity of what you believe, come join the rest of us at The Lasting Supper! We’re the real deal.