Isaiah 61:1-3 – “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion—to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.”
Before Etty Hillesum was deported from the Netherlands to Auschwitz, where her life ended, she wrote these words: “Sun on the balcony and a light breeze through the jasmine . . . I can’t take in how beautiful the jasmine is. But there is no need to. It is enough to simply believe in miracles in the twentieth century. And I do, even though the lice will be eating me up in Poland before long. It is possible to suffer with dignity and without . . . I am in Poland every day, on the battlefields, if that’s what one can call them. I often see visions of poisonous green smoke; I am with the hungry, with the ill-treated and the dying, every day, but I am also with the jasmine and that bit of sky beyond my window; there is room for everything in a single life. For belief in God and for a miserable end.”
I am moved to tears as I think about Etty surrounded by fear, hatred, dehumanization and helplessness declaring that a life can hold both suffering and beauty at once. Etty Hillesum was able to hold onto her belief in God and delight in the jasmine all while serving the suffering. Underneath it all she accepted the reality of her own death at the hands of the communists for her services.
“That anyone at all in the world would set their sad heart and tired hands to working beauty out of chaos is a monument to Grace. It reminds us of light and high beauty, and it laments the world’s great sorrow. It gives the heart language to rejoice and language to mourn.” – Andrew Peterson
Hope is infused throughout Isaiah 61, the prophesy of the coming Christ. It’s the year of the Lord’s favor. Twenty-twenty hasn’t looked or felt much like a year of favor. The world around seems to be turning inside out and we have scrambled to reinvent how we gather and celebrate. We also had to learn to grieve division and hate. Many of you have posted, with gratitude, the good discovered within the difficulties of 2020. God doesn’t promise static lives of ease, does He? But He gives us the hope of beauty from ashes. He [God] “causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose” (NASB2020).
I
love the clarity of this passage. God causes all things: loss of
safety, hurtful words spoken in disagreement, uncertainty,
unfairness, injustice, kind acts, provision for medical care,
healing; all these things He works together for good. How? I don’t
know; He is God and the powerful mystery of Him is far greater than I
can begin to understand. He is able to work all for the good when our
lives are sunk deep in His love. He doesn’t just take the good bits
of life and make something of it; He uses everything within a life,
kneads it together, and raises up good for those committed to Him.
And He causes all things in the greater world to work together for
the good of His people and His eternal plans. Nothing happening in
this universe thwarts God’s plans. Nothing!
Have you longed to be stoked by the fire of joy only to find yourself left without a spark and lulling about in ashes? Is it hard to imagine any beauty coming out of gray, lifeless ashes – scorched dreams and ideals. There are days it seems all beauty has been puffed away by the breath of bad news bearers. Then again, maybe you are like me and lose beauty in your idealism. There are times when just an inkling of restlessness and disappointment whisper into my ear and I steep myself in some idealized life; I fight against the yoke of reality believing I can choose to create a life of beauty. In doing so I lose track of the beauty in my current life. Idealism isn’t based on reality. I will not find my need for beauty out there; I only find it in the present moment. And I must be intentional about embracing and holding hopeful expectation that the Creator is knitting all of life into something for the greater good. That’s hard to take in because we often think about our own good.
My friend Terri and I spend 2-3 hours a month in conversation on Zoom sharing how God is working in our lives and offering one another nudges toward growth. I recently shared with her how I crave beauty. I sometimes wonder, when does beauty become an idol or a source of discontent? Obviously I’ve had some issues with this. Terri challenged me to reframe my meaning of beauty. She said, “Sometimes I think we should have beauty journals, like gratitude journals.” She suggested I expand my idea of beauty and think about each day as a treasure hunt – an invitation to pay attention. This idea really appeals to me. Here are a few small adjustments to my idea of beauty. I have a lot to learn about expanding my idea of beauty.
The neighbors across the street blare loud, obnoxious (in my opinion) music while under the eaves of our roof, on the phone lines, and in the Orange tree, birds sing lovely songs as a buffer of beauty.
To my great joy, a bag of colorful autumn leaves (rare in Southern California) were delivered by my friend, Alice.
Though creepy, a large green spider guards its egg sac at the top of our Norfolk Pine. The spider blends in with the green pine. It is a beauty I do not want to encounter too closely.
In Julia Cameron’s book, The Sound of Paper, I read these words about the making of a pearl, “At root, a pearl is a ‘disturbance,’ a beauty caused by something that isn’t supposed to be there . . .” An unexpected irritant becomes a thing of beauty. Can the harsh music blaring be a disturbance to create beauty? What beautiful change does God want to create within me and between my neighbor and me due to the disturbance? Can I allow the disturbance to form a pearl in me? What about for the greater good of the neighborhood?
Frank C. Laubauch in Letters by a Modern Mystic wrote, “Sometimes one feels that there is a discord between the cross and beauty. . . . there is in the universe a higher kind of beauty. It is the beauty of sacrifice, of giving up for others, of suffering for others. . . . The beauty of sacrifice is the final word in beauty.”
Jesus
came to earth. Isaiah and others prophesied this great hope – the
Messiah. Jesus suffered and died a torturous death before He was
resurrected and returned to His heavenly home. In spite of how it
seems there is great beauty in Christ’s sacrifice. I am moved by
His great love. In John 15:13 Jesus says, “Greater love has no one
than this, that one lay down his life for his friends” (NASB). It
is often hard for us to make sacrifices; they are inconvenient and
often uncomfortable. Can sacrifice be a thing of beauty? The
sacrifice Robertson McQuilkin made for his wife when she had
Alzheimers has been told countless times. It is a rare human to love
so much. You can follow the link below to read his story and watch
the video of his early retirement speech – the one he gave in order
to stay home and care for his wife.
