I listened intently. An Orthodox nun was responding to a question about which I care deeply: how to nurture spirituality in children. As a parent and pastor, I often ponder this question but Mother Rafaela's answer took me by surprise. "The question really is," she said, "how to put beauty into a child's life."
Both beauty and ugliness have the power to shape and transform our lives and our communities. Mother Rafaela's point seems as relevant to stopping violence and curbing teenage pregnancy as to spiritual formation. How can we put beauty into a child's life? Or, as Plato observed about the purpose of education, "How can we teach our children to take pleasure in the right things?"
Beauty occurs as readily in unadorned nature as in our most elegant gardens. It is not always "pretty.' It is not merely decorative. It may be — should be — cultivated, but beauty must not be confused with art. It is both less and more than art. The artistic function in our culture encompasses all manner of expressions, only some of which are beautiful.
When we experience beauty, we enter a dimension of life too deep for words, a dimension that transcends much of the ugliness, pain, and fear that are our daily bread. We are touched by a gracious order. We are enabled to reach a new level of spiritual integration. We encounter a "lightness of being" (Tolstoy) that frees our spirit. Perspective, balance, and catharsis are among the gifts that beauty bestows. The divine in us resonates with the divine in all creation.
The beauty I am able to perceive or create intimately shapes the meaning of my life. "Consider the lilies of the field," said Jesus. Our community's so-called "amenities" (natural and cultural) feed my spirit and shape my soul. The pursuit of beauty in worship, conversation, and a life lived well is among my most important motivations. Why should it be otherwise for children?
The composer Ottorino Respighi surely was one of the great joy bearers of the modern world. According to critic Geoffrey Crankshaw, beauty of expression was his perpetual aim. He hated ugliness and eschewed any tendency toward the brutal." One could do worse than leave such a legacy to the world.
It is said that, when Adonis arrived in the underworld after his death, only one question was put to him by the shades: "What was the most beautiful thing you left behind?" If this were the standard to which all of us are held, I wonder how our children's world would change.
© Budd Friend-Jones
Faith in a Minor Key, 2010
Posted: February 11, 2022
Posts
