On Beauty

The Second Sunday in Advent

BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.

Advent

ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious Majesty, to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Spirit, now and ever. Amen.

The Feast of Nicolas, Bishop of Myra, c. 343

O ALMIGHTY God, who willest to be glorified in thy Saints, and didst raise up thy servant Nicholas to shine as a light in the world: Shine, we pray thee, in our hearts, that we also in our generation may show forth thy praises, who hast called us out of darkness into thy marvellous light; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

As we continue to journey through the season of advent, it is important to reflect on the fact that we hold to a three-fold anticipation of his coming. We reflect on the anticipation of Christ’s nativity in the past, we continue to anticipate and receive him through his coming in the mystery of the Holy Eucharist, and just as we pray, “We believe that thou shalt come to be our judge,” in the Te Deum Laudamus, in Advent we anticipate Christ’s coming again on the last day.

There is much to say about Christ’s coming again, too much really, but that is perhaps not the point we are to consider in Advent, so much as to reflect on how we are to anticipate his coming. We sing those memorable words, “O come, O come, Emmanuel,” but what do we mean? What are our hopes by calling on Christ to come? How are we preparing ourselves for it?

Often on a personal level we prepare ourselves through beauty. We clean ourselves, men often shave and women often put on cosmetics, and then we dress ourselves in clothing we deem appropriate for the dignity of our coming to meet Christ in his Sacrament. What is the symbolism behind this? Why do we do it?

The best possible answer is to perhaps suggest that our outward emphasis on beauty is a representation and extension

I recently attended a church service for dementia patients at a nursing home. It was interesting to me in that the emphasis was on song with brief periods of teaching, and did not follow the format of any particular service book or authorized liturgy for any tradition. The residents in attendance varied from those who seemed relatively functioning and who could speak to those who spoke only in groans and shouts. Some might hum along or only mutter at some of the songs, while others could actually read the songbooks and sing along.

One gentleman in particular, who was unable to read and sing along for the most part, who had otherwise been humming or muttering throughout the service, caught my attention when the chaplain announced we would next sing Amazing Grace. He caught my attention because as we began singing, so did he. His voice was distinctive, loud and not particularly in tune, but all the same I was struck by the true beauty of his singing.

It was not professional singing. It wasn’t even all that good for an amateur. He was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt with a large stain on his shirt. Many of the other residents were similarly dressed. Yet at that moment, I felt he was better prepared for the coming of the Lord than anyone else in the room.

Sometimes you can simply hear the joy and anticipating coming through someone in song. When he was finally able to join in, there was no way to misconstrue why he was singing. It was a deep love of God.

Sometimes, when we dress ourselves up and go to Church, or perhaps choose to attend a choral evensong, we ought to consider asking ourselves why. Is the beauty there in the worship of God or is it internally in the act of worship only? When we go and listen to a choir, is there the same offering unto God of ourselves, our souls and our bodies that is represented in how we dress, what we say and what we pray? JB Philips once remarked that:

it is natural and right, of course, that the worship we offer to God in public should be of the highest possible quality. But that must not lead us to conceive of a musically “Third-Programme” god who prefers the exquisite rendering of a cynical professional choir to the ragged bawling of sincere but untutored hearts.

The man I heard singing is perhaps a perfect example of the “ragged bawling,” of a sincere heart, and in that moment I was struck by how much his singing likely pleased God.

This is not to say that God does not find the voices of a professional choir pleasing, but rather a reminder that even if a choir sings off-key or there is no choir, God is always looking at what is in the heart. Are voices raised to create a sound pleasing to His ear, or to ours?

Aesthetic beauty, be it in the architectural design of a parish church, its appointments, the music and even in some cases the poetic words and imagery of the liturgy itself, is designed intentionally that way because we are inviting God into our presence. In the same way that we might groom ourselves and dress in a way that we feel honours God, our surroundings are designed to honour God. Stained glass windows, cruciform buildings, and Gothic spires that reach to the heavens. They are there for two reasons, to keep us focused on God and to honour God.

The primary purpose of beauty in Church is not to be aesthetically pleasing to people. It has a dual purpose of reminding us of God—the stained glass window depicting a Christian saint or historical event, the cruciform building reminding us of Christ’s death on the cross, the spires pointing to heaven as we are to turn our hearts and minds to God—and also of being pleasing to God. When we look to the beauty in something like song, the beauty of a professional choir is lost when in effect what we are doing is placing the emphasis on our hearing the professionals sing, rather than ourselves lifting our voices in praise of God. We have outsourced, in effect, our praise.

There is nothing inherently wrong with beauty in the Church. Indeed, there is much to be lauded. A well appointed nave and sanctuary can help us to draw ourselves out of our secular world and lives and remember we are in God’s presence. A professional choir can help to lead our singing, perhaps helping it to be as pleasing as possible to God. In all things, however, we should remember that intentions matter, and we should concern ourselves first and foremost with what we are giving to God, rather than what we are receiving temporally from the Church building and others. Keep in mind the man who sang with passion, without concern for key or tempo, but only to express his joy found in God.