Universe, Universe, circa 1970s; Hieronymus Bosch, "Garden of Earthly Delights," 1504

Working 24-7 through Labor Day weekend on what I pray-pray-pray will be my last article about fundamentalism ever, I take a break to drift through the internets and am rewarded with this 70s Christian rock album by a band called Universe:


Note the contrast between the musicians: While the one on the left enjoys both a cosmic halo and sartorial splendor, the guy on the right is floating in the void, looking uneasy in a shirt that is only mildly daring in this context. I can find no further information about the band, but my guess is that Cosmic Halo lives in Crestone, Colorado. As for the nervous one, look a little closer, and imagine what might have become of a fellow eager to put his freak in the closet. Trim the hair, pad the jowl, add 30 years. Could it be...


I think it is! Fundamentalist former presidential candidate Gary Bauer.

The cover is even better. It's Christian Druggachusetts!


But best of all, listen to the tunes, and imagine what America would be like today if the Jesus freaky fundamentalists of the '70s had only listened more to these guys instead of Jerry Falwell:

Art for God, "Undefeated"

In the comments to Ron DiCianni, Paintings (below), Steve Prothero points me to another essential work of modern Christ kitsch, "Undefeated":

I can't find an artist's name to go with "Undefeated" on the site that sells prints of it, "Art for God"; they appear to be an evangelical art collective that produces Christian imagery "for the 21st century." Individual creators aren't important to them, apparently, since to their way of thinking, all credit goes to God. That'd be impressive if the work wasn't so awful, inspired, it seems, by the soulless mass-produced crap churned out by purely commercial enterprises, posters of kittens on tree limbs and the New York City skyline. The artists responsible for "Undefeated" are so intent on blending into the culture that they've erased individual style. All that's left is a Beegee on steroids. Who is this picture for? The fellas, who don't want a sissy-Christ, as Hubert Humphrey once called the Jesus of liberal churches? Or the ladies, who want a Christ who's all man and all soul?

If anyone could answer that question, besides the artborg that created "Undefeated," it'd be Steve Prothero, author of a fascinating book called American Jesus: How the Son of God Became a National Icon. Steve has a new book coming out next month, Religious Literacy, which will be a response to what he calls "a nation of religious illiterates." Presumably, that includes even the art collective behind "Undefeated," whose 21st century ambitions are better described as a revival of the 19th century "muscular Christianity" movement, a rather ugly response to the idea that industrialization was leading to office-coddled girlie men incapable of pursuing British empire and American manifest destiny. Steve also has a new blog, at which you can find his controversial Harvard Divinity Bulletin article "Belief Unbracketed."

Ron DiCianni, paintings

In my feature on Christian fundamentalist historiography for this past December's issue of Harper's (not yet online), I spent a little time discussing this image, offered as a lithograph from an outfit called the Presidential Prayer Team:


Turns out it's by artist Ron DiCianni. I usually don't go in for fundamentalist kitsch -- it's more interesting to take it seriously and try to understand what its creators and consumers see in it -- but my discovery of a whole site of DiCianni's work fills me with cheap joy.


"Chariots of Fire"


"Blessed Are the Peacemakers"

When I wrote briefly about evangelical artist Thomas Blackshear's "The Vessel" for Harper's last year, a lot of folks who didn't see the picture accused me of reading eroticism into what was surely wholesome, if corny, middle American decorative art. I'm with Supreme Court Justice Potter Stewart on this one -- I can't define porn, but I know it when I see it.


I thought Blackshear was special, but with my discovery of DiCianni, I think I've identified a movement in evangelical art. To wit, DiCianni's "The Chisel," in which God appears to be carving a golden Chelsea boy:


Is evangelical art really that gay? If only. DiCianni's, Blackshear's, and God's personal preferences aside, this massively popular reveals an unexplored facet of the Christian men's movement: The manly desire for beauty. Or, to be more precise, the manly desire to look pretty. What's wrong with that? Doesn't that suggest a slightly-expanded idea of gender? Indeed, it does -- the masculine gender ex[anded to encompass and appropriate one of the few virtues fundamentalist men had previously reserved for women. But here's DiCianni on female beauty:


Maybe that's not fair. "A Mother's Love," as this painting is titled, shouldn't be expected to bear the standard of female eroticism. Here's DiCianni's best effort in that regard, "Daughter of the King":


Who's hot and who's not in this picture?

We might write off these sterile representations of women to prudishness, but that still leaves us with the ripped golden muscles and leatherman fetish of DiCianni's man-art. My tentative theory: As religious art traditionally uses eroticism to channel worldly desires toward spiritual concerns, contemporary fundamentalist art uses eroticism to channel sex -- the visual currency of power in an advertising culture -- away from women and toward men. Either that, or it's a vast gay conspiracy.