Beauty, purpose and the sacred function of art

Spending time with ancient artifacts in Mexico City has been clarifying the way I think about art and its purpose. Standing among these objects, it becomes clear that they were not created casually or purely for display. Each one carries intention. They were made to serve a role in daily and ceremonial life, to hold meaning, and to act as a bridge between the human world and something beyond it.

Each vessel, carving, and figure was made with intention. They existed to connect people with something beyond the human realm. With deities. With spirit. With forces larger than the individual.

And yet, as I studied them, I could also feel something else present. Delight.

You can see it in the curve of a line, the repetition of pattern, the playful exaggeration of form. There is joy in these objects. The joy of making. The pleasure of invention. They served a spiritual function, yes, but they also clearly brought pleasure to their creators and to those who lived alongside them.

This made me think about the modern art world’s sharp divide between what is considered meaningful and what is dismissed as “decorative.” Decorative is often spoken of as a failure. A lesser category. As if beauty alone cannot carry depth or purpose.

But I wonder if that judgment misses something essential.

If an artist creates something beautiful with care and intention, can we say with certainty that it serves no deeper function? People hang objects in their homes that many would label kitsch or merely decorative, and yet those objects bring comfort, pleasure, and a sense of warmth into daily life. They soften the ordinary. They lift the spirit.

Is that not, in its own way, a connection to something greater than ourselves?

The phrase “merely beautiful” feels like an oxymoron. Beauty is never neutral. It moves us. It opens us. It reminds us of something beyond productivity and logic.

The idea of “art for art’s sake” feels strangely narrow when viewed against the vast history of human image-making. It is specific, recent, and imposed. Many artists will tell you that when they sit quietly in flow, something else enters the room. There is a connection. Transmission. Listening.

For a long time, art was intentionally separated from spirituality. But perhaps that separation no longer serves us.

Looking at these artifacts, I see it clearly. Art has always been a bridge. Between maker and viewer. Between the visible and the unseen. Between the human and the divine.

Beauty and delight are not distractions from meaning. They are part of the message itself.