I have been in love with the both/and aspects of faith ever since it was really first explained to me during my theology classes at Rockhurst. The fact that faith...God...can be so multifaceted and it all can make sense together...really is something that I've tried to take note of as I've progressed in my faith walk.
One of my good friends captures the sentiment well whenever she talks of something good and wholesome she's experienced, and as she's describing it, she will say, "Yes, it ruined me."
Wait, what? That doesn't sound so good. What are you saying? Are you ok? Should I be avoiding that?
And yet it's true. That perfect memory of a beautiful sunset, the perfect moment of being proposed to, that epic night in Adoration...those pure and beautiful things ruin you for good.
Is ruin too strong of a word or the wrong word? One definition of the verb I found was: "reduce...to a state of decay, collapse, or disintegration." Does God wish for our destruction? Of course not. He wants us whole. But that does mean that we have to let go of certain idols and bad habits and sins in order to find wholeness in Him. When a perfect moment ruins me for good, my walls come crashing down. My pride is attacked and I rediscover my smallness before my Creator.
This was the sentiment I experienced today as I had my monthly meeting with my spiritual mentor. She has me try to look for faith patterns or themes that pop up during the month between our visit to see how the Spirit is speaking through prayer. This month was easy, as I've been reading a psychology book on shame and vulnerability and was struggling with the theological repercussions of the topics. Then, as I described the past month's events in my life, my mentor was showing me where shame was rearing its head...where God was calling me into vulnerability in relationships and my work projects.
It was good. And it was awful.
Why does beauty hurt? A simple, theological explanation of beauty is that God is beautiful, much as we would say that God is Love. What does it mean that God should be beautiful? Once again, beauty is something so inward, so much a part of our identities as having human dignity, it isn't just something that we touch, it's something that we are. The "both/and" here is that beauty is both near and far. Beauty is beyond our grasp, it takes us out of ourselves, it awakens a yearning to chase after it and reach for it and try to contain it so badly.
Beauty reminds us of our finite-ness, and so it scares us. To be human means to have a finite life here on earth and have a true, biological death. If we were to live forever, or merely exist as might a rock, then we would no longer be human. What is on the other side of death, and our hope is that it is Heaven, is beyond us still. We want to reach for it, and yet we fear the unknown. That is beauty. It is the awakening of the longing for beatitude...for God.
As I applied the lessons of vulnerability to my life, I was shocked by how the Spirit was speaking through these little experiences (and thank God for spiritual mentors who can pry those experiences apart to help you see things as you hadn't yet before). The beauty of the Spirit's movements were overwhelming and frightened me from the implications of what I needed to do going forward. That experience with beauty colored the rest of my day. I went for some bubble tea and found a nook in which to read. I went to Confession. I cuddled a friend's baby. All because I had the opportunity to embrace beauty (or beauty embraced me) and let it lead me for the rest of the day. If I am careful to follow the Spirit's promptings, I can choose to be led by beauty always going forward.
That is the choice put to all of us. Beauty is scary. God ruins us. Will we dare to enter in?
