And so we covet beautiful things, experiences, people. The more beautiful something is, the righter is seems. The beauty that we find in God’s world or through exercising the creative abilities with which he has blessed us is deliberate and meant to cause us to seek and feel our way toward the One in whom we live and move and have our being (Acts 17:26-28). In a poem or in the trout-filled river, we see our Lord fleetingly, a glimpse as he turns the corner. Love, tall grass, laughter and music, the raucous variety of people’s lives and the fragile insects—these are clues that point to something bigger and truer—to a Creator who delights in life.
Beauty lures and captivates us, and for many outside of Christ, the pursuit of beauty becomes a religion in and of itself, providing a type of purpose, significance, healing and joy. I speak with firsthand knowledge, for I once belonged to these ranks. To those who find Christianity irrelevant, offensive, hateful—I once thought as you think. I gloried in yogic chanting and The Arts, in self expression, in great literature and in eastern philosophies. The classics were my holy scriptures, and I found wisdom to live by in the pages of James, Faulkner, Morrison, and Cather. I entertained notions of reincarnation, astral projection, crystal healing, the goddess and Wiccan beliefs. I celebrated harvest and the moon’s cycles and believed I heard the music of the spheres.
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