The Beauty Epidemic

I've been doing a bit of reflecting on beauty. I'm sure there exist volumes upon volumes of much more sophisticated reflections, and even libraries dedicated to aesthetics. But what are blogs for?

It is my firm conviction that beauty exists all around us. Yes, I'm willing to concede that it may be beauty marred by the ugliness of sin, but I would contend that there is still enough of the Creator's hand at work in our world and within us that beauty--real beauty--exists. My reflections, though, turn less on this point and more on how we then interact with this beauty.

I've noted that, for my own part, there are generally two stages that come about. First comes the observation of beauty. Something, be it a sunset, a painting, a recitation of a verse, a piece of music, etc., takes hold of me. But here, already, is my primary problem: I don't know how to appreciate these forms of beauty. Instead of doing whatever it is I now (upon reflecting) feel I should be doing, I move from observation (which often lasts an infinitessimal amount of time) to the second stage, consumption. I want to own it. I want it to be mine. I want to take a picture of the sunset, buy a print of the painting, or a book of the poem, or a CD of the music. I want to be able to access it whenever I want to. In short, I want to control it.

Another problematic aspect of this movement from appreciation to consumption is that it erodes my own sensibilities (if, indeed, I have any) toward what makes something beautiful. Surely, a rareness of occurrence can contribute toward making something more beautiful (e.g. a rainbow). So also must context and circumstance within which the beautiful is encountered play a role. But when I step in to control and dominate beauty, I find I cannot. The photograph of the sunset is never as striking as the real thing. The CD can play, nearly unheeded, not as beauty, but as background noise.

And this can lead to a third stage. The disappointment and perhaps frustration that comes from not being able to consume beauty can lead me to want to destroy beauty. I suppose the (sick) reasoning is that, "if I can't have it, neither should anyone else have it." I can't say that I have moved to this stage often, in fact I struggle to come up with a personal example at the moment. But the pervasiveness in our society of crimes like vandalism, desecration, and even rape speaks loudly to me of this third, consequential stage.

So, my prayer is simply that I would learn how to appreciate beauty. Not to own it, not to control it. Rather, that I would have the sense of mind and peace of spirit to pause, absorb, and give thanks when I am met by beauty. For beauty is, as I see it, an invitation to simply be, a vehicle into wonder, a reassurance that He Who Is Beauty remains.

In memoriam

As Kendra and I are settling back into life in Oxford, we were saddened to hear of the death of my dad's brother, Robert (Bob) Noel Conley. Uncle Bob passed away at about 3:30 PM CST at his home in Clay City, IL on Sunday, 14 January 2007 after a long battle with cancer. I remember Uncle Bob as a good-natured man, always ready with a smile or a joke. He knew how to enjoy life. He loved to tell stories, and to hear them, as well. He loved God, his family, and his country. He has served as the Conley family historian, and even recently put together a wonderful account of his service in the Army during World War II. His family would appreciate your prayers at this time of saying good-bye. Perhaps more especially as Uncle Bob's eldest son's (Mike's) wife, Tracy, is soon to be facing severe treatment for Leukemia.

Uncle Bob, I will miss your stories, your jokes, your fascination with what others would deem "small" things, and your contagious, cackly laughter. Rest in God's peace

Me with Dad (left) and Uncle Bob, enjoying the water from Sailor Springs, IL.