Waiting For Good

Waiting For Good
Cultural Renewal Takes Time -- Do We Have the Patience?
by Erik Lokkesmoe

“Nothing worth doing can be achieved in a lifetime,” a theologian once said. Such a call for eternal endurance is not a good line for a fundraising letter or as a slogan for a presidential campaign. In a clamorous and rootless society, bravado is potent and expectations are high; great things are expected to happen quickly. Yet noble and daring deeds, such as the renewal of culture, require a patient and persistent vision.

In 1933, the year Prohibition ended, two brothers, Ernest and Julio Gallo, launched a wine business from a small warehouse in California’s lush Central Valley. Acquiring grapes and equipment on credit, they joined a handful of other struggling winemakers in sinking every penny they earned back into the family business.

The first harvest yielded truckloads of frustration and little fruit. As the vines grew, however, so did their optimism. Neighboring vintners said the brothers told everyone who would listen, "... someday the Gallo name and family crest would appear on bottles throughout the U.S." Lack of money and name recognition were the least of their concerns. Foreign winemaking giants, particularly in France, dominated domestic sales; and wine was viewed as an elitist drink for the wealthy or the secret indulgence of the “wino.”

Ernest and Julio Gallo made a critical decision. Instead of looking to next year’s harvest or next quarter’s profits, they fixed their eyes on the next quarter-century. Their patience paid off. By 1975, the E. & J. Gallo Winery was the largest wine company in the world; the closest competitor was half their size.

Decades of persistence did more than turn a profit. Along the way, the Gallo brothers transformed the perception and practices of wine-drinking in America. "Gone are the days when wine was only imbibed at formal occasions; when the wine bottle only made an appearance in somber dusky rooms or at candlelight dinners," an industry newsletter reported in 1983. "Today, wine ... entertains at picnics, social occasions, business luncheons, everyday meals and sporting events ... [and] is becoming a part of everyday life."

The Gallo brothers understood that to change their fortunes they had to change the cultural climate as well. The beliefs and behaviors of consumers had as much to do with sales as the product itself – as good as it might be.

The same is true in contemporary culture. Elections matter. The Supreme Court is important. Nevertheless, it is movies and music, poetry and plays, fashion and video games that shape beliefs and behaviors more than any other source – more than education, family, religion or politics. Art and entertainment often normalize, even idealize, as one author said, “the weird and the stupid and the coarse.”

The answer, however, is not regulation or legislation. To change the culture we must change our approach. First thing: encourage young people to be rock stars, film directors, and ad executives – or a myriad of creative callings.

Indeed, to renew the culture we must create movies and music, poetry and plays, fashion and video games, employing excellence and artistry in a way that subtly offers audiences startling glimpses of goodness, truth and beauty. We must be originators, not imitators, of art and media, telling new stories in new ways through new mediums. We must transform the arts from the inside-out and the bottom-up, to “criticize by creating,” as Michelangelo said. And we must celebrate the good wherever it is found, even in the most unlikely and unexpected places – a song like World on Fire by Sarah McLachlan or a film like Crash.

Our standard should be this: great art, entertainment, and media leaves the audience a little better off than when they first entered the theater, turned on the I-Pod, or opened the book. Art doesn’t have to be happy or easy; it should, however, be a vehicle for recreation and re-creation, an echo of grace that reminds us what it means to be human and more than human.
Do we have the patience for long-term transformation?

Do we have the patience to train one thousand talented young artists over the next ten years to weave redemptive themes into their art, knowing that only a handful of them will ever make a living at it?

Do we have the patience to take a job in the mailroom of MTV or Paramount Studios or CBS News, to work hard and not complain, to fetch lattes for executives, to learn how things work, and then twenty years from now be in a position to take that job as Vice President of Programming?

A patient, persistent cultural vision will not earn many pats on the backs or make many headlines; it is much easier to criticize and complain. Like Ernest and Julio, we must till and plant, season after season. The fruit of our labor may take years, even decades to make a difference. But it is worth doing – if not for us, then for our children and their children. An enduring vision takes endurance. Let’s begin.