The nature of beauty has been an enduring mystery to artists and philosophers over the millennia, and various attempts have been made to define it. For example, some have defined beauty as an order, arrangement, and harmony of some kind (understood either as objective qualities inherent in something beautiful, or as a subjective sentiment of a person experiencing something that is esteemed as beautiful, and most often as a combination of both). In other words, something is regarded as beautiful because it possesses a certain arrangement of qualities that evoke pleasure or satisfaction in the mind or heart of a person.
The Scriptures teach us, however, that beauty is part of the very composition of things; the design and form of whatever exists, and that the revelation of beauty attests to the glory of God. Beauty is not simply “in the mind of the beholder,” but is objectively real, as part of the very structure of reality. Consider, for example, the flower that blooms, the bird that sings, the star that shines, and the sunset that suffuses the evening skies. “The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims his handiwork; day to day pours out speech, and night to night reveals knowledge” (Psalm 19:1-2).
The beauty of the natural world is grounded in mind of God, since God actively created and designed creation for his purposes and pleasure (see Gen. 1:1, 31; Rev. 4:11). The creation bears witness to the brilliance of the Creator, and the imprint of God’s handiwork is evident in the concinnity, order, and marvels of the natural world itself. This is particularly evident in the case of man, who is endowed with a conscience, or an intuitive “moral compass” that discerns the demands of justice and understands right and wrong. The conscience serves as an inner witness that speaks peace, harmony, and goodness when the moral law is observed, and unhappiness, disorder, and evil when it is disregarded or suppressed. As I’ve mentioned before, the ancient Greek mindset regarded what is beautiful as what is good, whereas the Hebrew mindset regarded what is good as what is beautiful. The difference is one of orientation. Doing our duty before God, obeying “the moral law within,” is what is truly beautiful, not merely appreciating symmetry, order, harmony, and so on. Beauty is a type of the good, in other words, and justice expresses the truth of the good in relation to oneself and others. Beauty is also a type of truth, since what is truly beautiful expresses and reveals truth, whereas what is not truly beautiful expresses what is false. The spirit of man attests to the reality of the Creator and realizes its ontological indebtedness to God (Rom. 1:20).
Theologically, the “beauty of the LORD” (נעם־יהוה) can be understood as the effulgence of God’s manifold perfections, everything about his heart and character that evokes ecstatic wonder, solemn awe, and irresistible attraction in his conscious creatures. It is the brightness and loveliness of God, the “charm of his unsurpassed excellence,” his perfect justice and infinite compassion for his creation. The LORD is “the Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, just and upright is he” (Deut. 32:4). The beauty of the LORD is likened to the purity of Divine Light, the radiance and splendor that is incomprehensibly mysterious and good. The New Testament says “For God, who said “Let light shine out of darkness,” is the one who shined in our hearts to give us the light of the glorious knowledge of God in the face of the Messiah” (2 Cor. 4:6). Yeshua is the Divine Light; the Radiance and Beauty of God manifest in the flesh (1 Tim. 3:16). “He is the radiance of the glory of God (הוּא זהַר כְּבוֹדוֹ) and the exact imprint of his nature, who upholds the universe by the word of his power” (נוֹשֵׂא כל בִּדְבַר גְּבוּרָתוֹ; Heb. 1:3). “All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made” (John 1:3).
So how do we wake up to the beauty of the LORD? How do we come to “see the invisible blessing” that pervades all things? How may we encounter the truth that “the whole world is filled with the irrepressible glory of the LORD” (Isa. 6:3)?
Frederick Buechner once described a “holy hush” that came over a boisterous crowd of people when they first encountered the giant redwood trees at Redwood National Park. As the people began to take in their surroundings, everything seemed to change – the loud chatter faded; the light, the atmosphere, and especially the awe of being in the presence of these enormous and ancient trees (some of which had been standing since the time of Jesus), induced a sense of smallness and humility before the glory that surrounded them.
You may have experienced this sort of awe also, perhaps while observing the starry night sky, or while watching the sun set over the mountains or upon the rim of the Grand Canyon, or when witnessing the birth of a baby, or when listening to music that touched your heart and brought tears to your eyes, and so on. Such experiences are sometimes called “self-transcendent,” since they move us outside of our ordinary consciousness in an encounter with something great, breathtaking, wonderful, and sublime…
Encountering the glory of the LORD evokes conflicting emotions within the heart, a powerful combination of fear and attraction that is sometimes called the “numinous.” The LORD our God is beautiful beyond anything we can imagine, yet were we to directly encounter him we would be so overwhelmed that we would “fall to the ground as one dead” (Rev. 1:17); nonetheless he puts his hand upon us and says, “Don’t be afraid; for I am with you.” By his gracious touch, then, we are able to look upon the radiance of his presence, to receive the vision of his majesty and transcendent beauty and loveliness. And the amazing thing is that this is what he wants; this is the very desire of his heart, after all, the prayer to the Father that we should behold his glory (see John 17:22-24). And this, I believe, is part of what is meant when it is said that we are made temples of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 3:16). ” You yourselves are like living stones being built up as a spiritual house, to be a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Yeshua the Messiah (1 Pet. 2:5).
This topic relates to our Torah reading for this week, parashat Terumah. As we are drawn by God’s grace to love the Lord and to understand how truly beautiful and wonderful and kind he is to us, we will be willing to worship him and celebrate his loving glory. To be alive before God is to be alive to his beauty. Your heart will flutter in joyful excitement to sing: “Give unto the LORD the glory due unto his name; bow down to the LORD in the beauty of holiness” (Psalm 29:2). We sanctify the LORD God within us by affirming his superlative beauty, his infinite goodness, the greatness of his power, the perfections of his justice and truth, his unfathomable kindness, and his unsurpassing and everlasting love. The recognition of the beauty of the LORD is the awareness of his holiness, wherein our heart will esteem his sacred glory as our most precious and extraordinary gift. The beauty of the LORD our God is the heart of love and life and wisdom and truth, the Supreme Being of which no greater can be conceived, for ever and ever. Yehi Shem Adonai Mevorakh. Amen.
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Hebrew Lesson
Psalm 90:17 Hebrew reading:
- Psalm 90:17 Hebrew page (pdf)
“Let them make me a mikdash (“holy place,” “sanctuary”), that I may dwell in their midst” (Exod. 25:8). Though this verse refers to the physical mishkan (i.e., “Tabernacle”), it more deeply refers to the duty of the heart to sanctify the Name of God and bring a sense of holiness to the inner life. This requires that we focus the mind and heart to honor the sacredness of life, taking “every thought captive” to the truth of God in Messiah (2 Cor. 10:5). Since our minds and hearts are gateways to spiritual revelation, we must be careful to not to abuse ourselves by indulging in sloppy thinking or unrestrained affections. God holds us responsible for what we think and believe (Acts 17:30-31), and that means we have a duty to honor moral reality and truth. There is an “ethic of belief,” or a moral imperative to ascertain the truth and reject error in the realm of the spiritual. Since God holds us responsible to repent and believe the truth of salvation, He must have made it possible for us to do so (“ought” implies “can”). And indeed, God has created us in His image and likeness so that we are able to discern spiritual truth. He created us with a logical sense (rationality) as well as a moral sense (conscience) so that we can apprehend order and find meaning and beauty in the universe He created. All our knowledge presupposes this. Whenever we experience anything through our senses, for example, we use logic to categorize and generalize from the particular to the general, and whenever we make deductions in our thinking (comparing, making inferences, and so on), we likewise rely on logic. We have an innate intellectual and moral “compass” that points us to God.
Faith sees the invisible light, the truth of love that overcomes all the powers of darkness, hate, and fear. “I believe. I believe in the sun even when it is not shining; I believe in love even when feeling it not; and I believe in God, even when God is silent” (from an anonymous poem found on the wall of a cellar in Cologne, Germany, where some Jews hid from the Nazis).
When Abraham sought a place to bury his wife Sarah, he said to the Hittites chieftains: “I am a stranger and sojourner among you…” (Gen. 23:4). The righteous invariably feel like strangers to this world, since they are only passing through, and their focus is on the invisible “city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God” (Heb. 11:10). Likewise they are as sojourners, not at home in this world, because their faith sees through the vanity and deceit of the present world, and therefore they regard themselves as on a journey to the place of truth and holiness where God abides. The wicked, on the other hand, regard life in this world as all that exists, and therefore they “absolutize” the moment and forfeit the blessing of the eternal (Matt. 16:26). Abraham regarded himself as a “stranger and sojourner” (גֵּר־וְתוֹשָׁב) because the people of his world considered themselves as “owners” and “permanent residents” who sought their inheritance in the here and now. Abraham was a “resident” of someplace higher, however, and understood this world to be a corridor to the next. The sages comment on this paradox: God says to man, ‘If you see yourself as a permanent resident in this world, then I will be a stranger to you; if, however, you see yourself as a stranger to this world, then I will be a Dwelling Place for you.”
(Originally published July 11, 2020)
Christian (and Jewish) theology insists that truth matters, and knowing the truth about God is absolutely essential for life itself. Nothing is more important. Nothing is more vital. “This is eternal life (חַיֵּי עוֹלָם), that they may know you, the only true God (אֶל־אֱמֶת), and Yeshua the Messiah (יֵשׁוּעַ הַמָּשִׁיחַ) whom you have sent (John 17:3). The truth sets us free; it is the unbreakable seal that bears witness of reality. In the Gospel of John it is recorded that Yeshua said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life” (i.e., ᾽Εγώ εἰμι ἡ ὁδὸς καὶ ἡ ἀλήθεια καὶ ἡ ζωή). The Greek word translated “truth” in this verse is aletheia (ἀλήθεια), a compound word formed from an alpha prefix (α-) meaning “not,” and lethei (λήθη), meaning “forgetfulness.” (In Greek mythology, the “waters of Lethe” induced a state of oblivion or forgetfulness.) Truth is therefore a kind of “remembering” something forgotten, or a recollecting of what is essentially real. Etymologically, the word aletheia suggests that truth is also “unforgettable” (i.e., not lethei), that is, it has its own inherent and irresistible “witness” to reality. In that sense light is a metaphor for truth: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5). There can be no truth apart from moral reality. People may lie to themselves, but ultimately truth has the final word.
In the Scriptures it is written: “You shall not worship the LORD your God in that way” (Deut. 12:4), which referred to various Canaanite practices of idolatry based on mystery, ignorance and superstition. Unlike religious cults that were based on vain speculations, however, Jews are duty-bound to carry out God’s will as expressed by the truth of divine revelation. Our father Abraham was given revelation of Torah (Gen. 26:5) and at Sinai moral truth was enshrined in the Ten Commandments (Exod. 24:12; Deut. 5:22).
“Unless you turn (shuv) and become like children, you will never (οὐ μὴ) enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 18:3). Such is the importance of simple trust in God… Indeed Yeshua repeatedly taught us to trust God as “Abba,” our Father (אַבָּא אָבִינוּ). He taught that we are warmly accepted as part of his family; that we are under his constant care; and that we live within his household as beloved children… And even though God is utterly transcendent, the Infinite One (אין סוף) and Creator of all worlds, he humbles himself to feed the birds of the air, to water lilies of the field, and to count the number of hairs on your head (Psalm 113:5-6). He is as close as your next breath; he leans upon your bosom at the table; he anticipates what you need before you ask him… The “fear of the Lord” is that you might fail knowing his great love for you — that you will forget or lose sight of your true identity in lesser things. Therefore affirm the truth that you are loved with an unending and everlasting love, that you are safe, that you are surely accepted, and that nothing can ever separate you from the power of love. God your Father hears you, he knows you, and he loves you bekhol levavo (בְּכָל־לְבָבוֹ) – “with all his heart.”
Gratitude is essential to the life of faith… We read in the Torah: “And you shall bless the LORD your God for the good” (Deut. 8:10). Whenever we derive benefit or enjoyment from something we are to bless (i.e., thank) God for his goodness. Indeed the Hebrew term for gratitude is hakarat tovah (הַכָּרַת טוֹבָה), a phrase that means “recognizing the good.” The heart looks through the eye, and therefore how we see is ultimately a spiritual decision: “If your eye is “single” (i.e., ἁπλοῦς, sincere, focused),” Yeshua said, “your whole body will be filled with light” (Matt. 6:22). When we see rightly, we are awakened to God’s Presence in the little things of life, those small miracles and “signs and wonders” that constantly surround us. The good eye of faith sees hundreds of reasons to bless God for the precious gift of life (1 Cor. 10:31).
Though it is important to guard our sincere convictions and to be passionate about what we believe, we must nevertheless be careful to walk in humility before the mystery of life… After all, much is inscrutable to us, much is beyond our understanding, and therefore, if we are honest, we should be reverent before the “sacred secrecy” of everything. Fanaticism and intolerance (whether secular or religious) is motivated by willful ignorance of the marvelous complexities that pervade existence. The fanatic invariably seeks to reduce life to a simple formula, recipe, and a generalization. The humble person, on the other hand, freely confesses that they “walk by faith, not by sight” — by hearing the Word of God and heeding what the Spirit of God is saying to the heart… For now we “see through a glass darkly,” which literally means “in an enigma” (ἐν αἰνίγματι). An enigma (or riddle) is an analogy given through some resemblance to the truth, though quite often the correspondences are puzzling and obscure. Hence, “seeing through a glass darkly” means perceiving obscurely or imperfectly, looking “through” something else instead of directly apprehending reality. We see only a reflection of reality, and our knowledge in this life is indirect and imperfect. This is contrasted with the “face to face” (פָּנִים אֶל־פָּנִים) vision and clarity given in the world to come, when our knowledge will be clear and distinct, and the truth of God will be fully manifest and no longer hidden. Being “face to face” with reality means being free of the riddles, the analogies, the semblances, etc., which at best adumbrate our way.. Such reflection should make us humble whenever we share our faith. “Now we know in part, but then shall we know in whole” (1 Cor. 13:12). Let therefore repeat that an honest theology must find a place for mystery, for “seeing through a glass darkly,” and for the apprehension of awe and wonder.