What would you die for?

For Karol Wojtyla, the man who would become Pope John Paul II, the answer seems obvious. Living under Nazi occupation in Poland, Wojtyla was willing to risk everything as a young man to enter the Diocese of Krakow’s underground seminary. If detected, he likely would’ve been killed, but such was the strength of his conviction in his priestly vocation.

But watching “Lolek,” a short play about the early life of JP II currently showing at the Open Window Theatre in Eagan, I learned that Wojtyla was willing to die for something else: the theater.

For the year and a half immediately preceding his October 1942 entry into seminary, Wojtyla helped to start the Rhapsodic Theatre, a clandestine theatre company. The Rhapsodic Theatre staged its performances in secret, tucked away in apartments, away from the prying eyes of the Nazi occupiers. Similar to the seminary, if Wojtyla and his compatriots in the theatre company had been detected, they might have faced death.

Though for a long time Wojtyla had thought his vocation was in the theatre, he eventually discerned a higher calling and gave up the stage for the altar. Nonetheless, the fact that he had been willing to put his life at risk not only to advance the mission of the Church, but also the mission of the Rhapsodic Theatre, should tell us something significant about drama and the arts, and the value the future pope placed on them.

A large part of Wojtyla’s dedication to theatre was probably the type of performances being put on by his company. Also known as the “Theatre of the Word,” the Rhapsodic Theatre engaged in cultural resistance against the Nazi occupation, performing mostly poems and drama of the great Polish romantics. The company’s productions also emphasized the significance of the word over gesture, an artistic decision meant to highlight the primacy of man’s reason and capacity for reflection over impulse and action.

Writing later in “Drama of Word and Gesture,” Wojtyla notes that in the Rhapsodic Theatre’s performances, “man, actor and listener-spectator alike, frees himself from the obtrusive exaggeration of gesture, from the activism that overwhelms his inner, spiritual nature instead of developing it. Thus freed, he grasps those proportions that he cannot reach and grasp in everyday life.”

As depicted in “Lolek,” the young Karol Wojtyla saw theatre not merely as a diversion from the difficulty of life under occupation, but as a source of the “freedom of the spirit” needed to resist the Nazis, if not in force, then at least in mind and heart. Tucking away into an apartment to watch a performance of the Rhapsodic Theater wasn’t about “escaping” the harsh conditions of wartime Poland — it was about reminding each other of the heights of humanity while surrounded by the worst.

Our situation is obviously different in Minnesota 2021. But I still think Karol Wojtyla would see the value of us engaging in a bit of “cultural resistance” today.

Our society is certainly oppressed by its own version of hyper-activism, which gins up emotions and action but does little in the way of promoting reflection and spiritual development. Much of our entertainment today, perhaps best summed up by the phrase “binge-watching,” seems aimed only at agitating our impulses and satisfying our basest cravings, not eliciting what’s best and most human. This kind of culture hinders — not helps — our freedom, denying the grandeur of the human person and the transcendence we’re made for, offering a hollowed-out, self-indulgent version instead.

We need to seek and to cultivate forms of culture that truly contribute to what Wojtyla called the freedom of the spirit. Perhaps a good place to start would be attending a socially distanced performance of “Lolek.” Or maybe tuning in this weekend (Feb. 12-14) to the New York Encounter, a cultural event highlighting truly human expressions of the desire for truth, beauty and justice. You can also keep things simpler and closer to home by reading through a play out loud, watching and then discussing a movie with a message, or reciting poetry with friends. All are ways that I’ve experienced culture that elevates my thought and aspirations, that helps me to be more whole and human.

Culture is not an accident. It’s the embodiment of a worldview. Do we believe that man is more than just a consumer of goods and a maker of arbitrary choices? That we have a spark of the divine within us, and that we are called to live to the fullest potential of our God-given dignity? Then let’s reflect it with the culture we live and build. As Karol Wojtyla shows, its value is the worth the risk.

Liedl lives and writes in the Twin Cities.