Christmas Beauty
Christmas eve, and i'm sitting in an armchair in a sleepy but strangely homely old farmhouse. Its long past the hour bed calls, yet with the embers of a once roaring fire still giving off a friendly glow in the hearth i find myself wide awake - brimming with inspiration.
The subject in question is beauty and i'm drawn to 1Cor 1:20-25. Even as i'm thinking about this i'm penning a letter explaining a little of it. The hours go by and then, as if to interrupt my thoughts, Molly joins me on the chair with her beautiful face resting on my knee. Anyway the letter is nearly finished now and a bed, complete with hot water bottle, awaits.
I wake early the following morning - its Christmas! Putting on my boots and wrapping up snuggly i set off for a walk with Molly. We are to take the sea route today. An odd crunching underfoot greets me as does a biting westerly wind, it's still dark but we can wait to examine the dusting of snow underfoot and the amazing views while the sun takes a well deserved rest. Walking two miles downhill towards the sea as the light is getting stronger by the minute, but we resist the temptation to look back and spoil the 'surprise' God is prepareing for us. We eventually reach the sea and the wind on the cliff-top almost takes me off my feet but the crashing waves and the seabirds create an angelic chorus. Despite the numbness of my nose and red cheeks I drink in the awesome scenery God has been designing for me to enjoy. The tail of rocks being beaten by infinite armies of white horses. The rugged, yet spectacularly crafted coastline. The calf - no more than 15 miles down the coast - snow covered and shining while in the first rays of the dawn.
As I turn to examine the hills from whence i've come the sight is breathtaking. A sunrise over frosty, snow-capped hills becomes a strange yet beautiful concotion of colour, with the deep green of the forest on my rigth complemented by the light blue of the clear sky containing a golden orb of fantastic proportions giving off a bizzarely pink hue. Yet the brilliant while of teh rugged hillside is the most memorable of them all. We turn once more and drink in the sea view with the bitterly cold wind in my hair. It's worth it for the sun has just been caught by the waves and the glistening water stretches all the way to the mysterious mountains of Mourne, part hidden by haze in the distance.
Molly and I crunch back up the hill through the snow which is blinding by now, and the cold is starting to really tell. Yet only a short walk away the fire will have been rekindled and a spread fit for royalty will cover the table, they will both be very welcome. Despite all the stunning beauty of the past half hour or so and the fireside beauty of the night before, there is something astoundingly beautiful in hot food, a cup of tea and a pair of dry socks.
I am strangely silent over a merry Christmas breakfast. How can words begin to do justice to beauty? All i can do is lift my thoughts up as worship to a soverign creator - obsessed by beauty. His beauty is to be experienced not taught, how can i do him justice? He's chosen to make foolish the wisdom of the world. Somehow this experience of beauty makes me feel more foolish than ever.
How can i share this beauty? I know now it's not good for man to be alone. Why then is church so important? We all share experience of the beauty of God, we can all worship togeather. Much like i cannot do justice to any experience on a cold Christmas morning, we cannot describe the beauty of God. I would have loved to have shared that experience with someone othere than a dog, yet we share an experience of the deepest beauty of all: of the faithfulness, justice, holiness, mercy and love of God. This is where our unity is . Its not about doctrines or methodologies but about beauty.
The subject in question is beauty and i'm drawn to 1Cor 1:20-25. Even as i'm thinking about this i'm penning a letter explaining a little of it. The hours go by and then, as if to interrupt my thoughts, Molly joins me on the chair with her beautiful face resting on my knee. Anyway the letter is nearly finished now and a bed, complete with hot water bottle, awaits.
I wake early the following morning - its Christmas! Putting on my boots and wrapping up snuggly i set off for a walk with Molly. We are to take the sea route today. An odd crunching underfoot greets me as does a biting westerly wind, it's still dark but we can wait to examine the dusting of snow underfoot and the amazing views while the sun takes a well deserved rest. Walking two miles downhill towards the sea as the light is getting stronger by the minute, but we resist the temptation to look back and spoil the 'surprise' God is prepareing for us. We eventually reach the sea and the wind on the cliff-top almost takes me off my feet but the crashing waves and the seabirds create an angelic chorus. Despite the numbness of my nose and red cheeks I drink in the awesome scenery God has been designing for me to enjoy. The tail of rocks being beaten by infinite armies of white horses. The rugged, yet spectacularly crafted coastline. The calf - no more than 15 miles down the coast - snow covered and shining while in the first rays of the dawn.
As I turn to examine the hills from whence i've come the sight is breathtaking. A sunrise over frosty, snow-capped hills becomes a strange yet beautiful concotion of colour, with the deep green of the forest on my rigth complemented by the light blue of the clear sky containing a golden orb of fantastic proportions giving off a bizzarely pink hue. Yet the brilliant while of teh rugged hillside is the most memorable of them all. We turn once more and drink in the sea view with the bitterly cold wind in my hair. It's worth it for the sun has just been caught by the waves and the glistening water stretches all the way to the mysterious mountains of Mourne, part hidden by haze in the distance.
Molly and I crunch back up the hill through the snow which is blinding by now, and the cold is starting to really tell. Yet only a short walk away the fire will have been rekindled and a spread fit for royalty will cover the table, they will both be very welcome. Despite all the stunning beauty of the past half hour or so and the fireside beauty of the night before, there is something astoundingly beautiful in hot food, a cup of tea and a pair of dry socks.
I am strangely silent over a merry Christmas breakfast. How can words begin to do justice to beauty? All i can do is lift my thoughts up as worship to a soverign creator - obsessed by beauty. His beauty is to be experienced not taught, how can i do him justice? He's chosen to make foolish the wisdom of the world. Somehow this experience of beauty makes me feel more foolish than ever.
How can i share this beauty? I know now it's not good for man to be alone. Why then is church so important? We all share experience of the beauty of God, we can all worship togeather. Much like i cannot do justice to any experience on a cold Christmas morning, we cannot describe the beauty of God. I would have loved to have shared that experience with someone othere than a dog, yet we share an experience of the deepest beauty of all: of the faithfulness, justice, holiness, mercy and love of God. This is where our unity is . Its not about doctrines or methodologies but about beauty.
posted by Dan | 5:18 AM
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