We are living in a messy time.  A time filled with fear, with anger, with frustration, with pain.  Some of these things are beyond our control.  Some we could relieve and change, if only we made the decisions required to do so. There are examples right now of people in our world who are making those hard decisions – in big and small ways.  The decisions that will rise up above the mess and exude beauty.  The kind of beauty that we need.  The kind of beauty that will inspire others.  The kind of beauty that shines a bright light on those who have done wrong and calls them into account. The kind of beauty that gives hope to those who are battered and broken and encourages the weary.  The kind of beauty that is strong and clear.  These are the people we need to focus upon. They are real leaders.

*

The idea of beauty keeps coming into my mind.  What beauty is and what value it should have in our lives.  There are times when it is a stumbling block, if understood in a superficial way.  But there are times when it opens up our souls to things beyond ourselves; things that lift us from the mire and into a place of vision and reward.

Open now thy gates of beauty, 
Zion; let me enter there,
where my soul in joyful duty
waits for One who answers prayer.
Oh, how blessed is this place,
filled with solace, light, and grace!

Gracious God, I come before thee,
come thou also unto me.
Where we find thee and adore thee,
there a heav’n on earth must be.
To my heart O enter thou,
let it be thy temple now.

Speak, O Lord, and I will hear thee;
let thy will be done indeed.
May I undisturbed draw near thee
while thou dost thy people feed.
Here of life the fountain flows,
here is balm for all our woes.

This hymn speaks of the latter kind of beauty and I must say, I love the image of the gates of beauty.  A special passageway into something that is blessed.  The word blessed is one of those that gets tossed around frequently these days.  I’ve heard so many people say they are blessed – because they are successful, healthy, wealthy, lucky…. whatever.  But to me, being blessed is about a sense of relief.  A shift, from being burdened by the many things that weigh us down, to seeking out the spaces where we can see beautiful views.  I’m not convinced it has anything to do with what we have or what we receive, but rather with those magical things that run like currents through our world and remind us of the Divine, of what is good, of what we can never understand. To me, these things make up the land of beauty – that place found when we open the gates.

As I think about the weights of this world – environmental concerns, injustice, sadness, pain, sickness, hatred, stress and many others – I find myself feeling heavy. I’m sure this is common.  I hear people speak of this weariness, of this sense of drowning in the filth.  We have access to so much information that is soul destroying.  And we take it in.  Someone said to me this week that there was no such thing as good news.  It was a kick in the gut – for how does one live with that in their mind?  How do we even begin to create good news when we no longer believe it exists?

But it does. And more and more I am thinking it exists in beauty.  True beauty – that which reflects our most beautiful souls.  The artist’s ability to recollect a lost family member’s presence in the beauty of their painting.  The composer’s notes that transcend our ability to speak and bring us closer to what we feel.  The garden’s ceaseless transition from dormancy into bloom and decay, echoing our own lives with all its stages of loveliness – each one different, each one precious.  The ocean as it moves with a constancy that brings calm reassurance and exciting motion all at the same time.  The grain dancing in the wind in fields that breathe of our nourishment.  The footsteps of those walking beside us that fill the air with a song, when we have nothing left but silence.  The stars, the planets, the comets – the darkness of night that reveals something larger than we can ever imagine.

There is beauty everywhere.  There is simply not enough evil in this world to wipe it out.  Whether we see it or not, it is constant.  When we are able to find it, something happens and we start to see beyond ourselves.  When we look through human history and see bits and pieces of beauty in amongst our horrors, we find hope.  When we take time to look at something beautiful, we start to cherish things differently, to honour them, to protect them.  When we offer a moment of beauty to someone who is so weighed down that they can’t find it themselves, we give a small blessing, a small relief from their pain – sometimes unrecognized, but inserted into their memory to be received when they are able.

Beauty is a powerful thing.  Seeking it is rewarding but so challenging in a world that has defined it in ways that tarnish its depth of importance.  Sharing it is generous and infectious, even if we are afraid to reveal how beautiful we really are.  Surrounding ourselves with it is healing, even when our world remains filled with pain. Finding the beauty that reflects the very best of your soul allows you to enter those gates, and often empowers others to follow.  And in that beauty filled space, the fountain of life flows.

Do we love or do we hate?  It is a simple question.  It is not as simple to answer. But it is worth considering.  Our ability to love in a truthful, humble, open and generous way will determine what we leave behind us on the path we walk through this life. It is our choice whether our footsteps are destructive or peaceful; whether they disregard others on the path or provide space and opportunity for growth and flourishing.

Love sees.  Love listens.  Love acknowledges its failures.  Love tries.  Love learns.  Love sacrifices.  Love gives.  Love is strong.  Love is fierce.  Love is patient.  Love is kind.

Love does not judge others’ expressions of pain.

Love is willing to do what is right, even when it is impossible.

*

Somewhere, way back in my childhood, this is the first hymn I ever learned to play on the piano.  Or, I should say, the first one I remember playing.  I think I was about 11 years old and I suppose playing it was easy enough to draw me into the world of hymns.  I have fond memories of playing it, and other hymns, with a friend of mine – we would merrily flip through the hymnbook and play whatever we could.  Sometimes, in fits of laughter, we would settle on two hymns on facing pages, and dive in for a duet of less than inspirational quality, regardless of competing time and key signatures.  Probably not what the hymn writers intended.

These are very old words.  They can be found in many Gregorian chants, the earliest record of their use in 990 at a monastery in Switzerland. The original Latin text is: Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi: Quia per Crucem tuam redemisti mundum.  This familiar hymn version was written as part of an oratorio by Théodore Dubois in 1867 (translated into English in 1899 by Theodore Baker).

Christ, we do all adore thee,
And we do praise thee forever.
For on the holy cross hast thou
the world from sin redeemed.

This is a simple hymn.  The music is simple; the words are simple.  Perhaps this is what drew me to it as a child.  We adore and praise Christ, why?  Because of his sacrifice and resulting redemption.  End of story.  For those that adhere to this belief, there isn’t much more to add. And, many have experienced moments where the simplicity of repeated statements of this kind of childlike faith have been very moving and very meaningful.  Sometimes that’s all we need.

And yet, as always, we need to look beyond the places we lived as children.  To look for that which confounds as well as comforts, to consider other points of view.  Can this simple sentiment mean more than what it appears – can it be meaningful beyond the confines of a specific belief system?

Christ’s example of sacrificial love is powerful. His story is about providing what was needed, in all sorts of ways, to all sorts of people.  Healing, food, comfort, reassurance, and ultimately, redemption.  And, some choose to adore and praise him as a result. Regardless of how his example has been used and misused throughout church history, these behaviours are valuable and honourable and worthy.

I don’t really know what sin is, but I suspect behaving in ways that are the opposite of love defines it well.  I also suspect that the lists of sins that have been screamed at us from many a pulpit, contain more about maintaining power structures than about expressing love, and have little to do with deep, moral truths.  The standard is so much higher than what we have been told. Simply following rules is both easy to do and easy to dismiss, and a little lazy in the lack of understanding of how humans learn, grow and evolve.  Truly living in a spirit of love requires a great deal more effort, and its absence requires enormous redemption.

For me, redemption is about the process of regaining what has been lost.  When we exhibit behaviours that are less than loving, we lose something.  We lose a part of the recipient’s spirit and a part of our own. We leave a trail of destruction in our wake.  We become unadorable.

All of this leaves me wondering about both the simplicity and complexity of choosing love.  It is difficult.  There are times when we must honour ourselves by walking away from damaging situations, or must rely on others to provide for a need we cannot possibly fill.  Being a person grounded in love does not mean we are weak and accepting of whatever the world or our neighbours throw our way. But how we choose to behave matters. What we say, what we do, how we react and respond.

Adoration and praise is probably best saved for the gods. But redemption is something we all need. If we are willing to consider the greatest examples in human history, we will see that whatever was lost is always regained through actions, words, honour and commitment.  When these things are firmly grounded in a paradigm of love, rebuilding is possible, even if it is challenging and takes a lifetime.

This simple hymn reminds me that that there are powerful forces available to guide my path.  There is hate.  There is love.  The guide I choose will determine not the perfection of my experience, but the impact my path has on this world.

The original Latin includes the words, and we bless thee.  This is my wish.  That our lives and the paths we walk provide that which blesses those we encounter and those who follow.

Et benedicimus tibi.

I looked at this hymn tune a few years ago, but today I happened upon a version with different words and it sort of spoke to me.  That doesn’t happen very often, so I felt it was worth a second arrangement and a few moments thinking about this new, to me, text.  These incredible words were written by Jessie Adams around 1907.  She was a Quaker teacher in England, but not much else is known about her.

I feel the winds of God today;
today my sail I lift,
though heavy oft with drenching spray
and torn with many a rift;
if hope but light the water’s crest,
and Christ my bark will use,
I’ll seek the seas at his behest,
and brave another cruise.

It is the wind of God that dries
my vain regretful tears,
until with braver thoughts shall rise
the purer, brighter years;
if cast on shores of selfish ease
or pleasure I should be,
O let me feel your freshening breeze,
and I’ll put back to sea.

If ever I forget your love
and how that love was shown,
lift high the blood-red flag above;
it bears your name alone.
Great pilot of my onward way,
you will not let me drift;
I feel the winds of God today,
today my sail I lift.

I’m not sure there is much I can add to these words.  What is the thing that sends its wind into your sail?  That persistent, cleansing, driving, rejuvenating, reminding force that keeps you going?  I know it is different for each of us.  I know some find it difficult to find, others choose to ignore its positive potential in favour of selfish or superficial breezes.  But I can’t help reading these words and thinking that the piloting energy we choose to engage enables us to live life fully and honourably.  This choice determines whether our sails are worth lifting.

This has been such a strange time.  We are so tired.  Consider how the absence of regular life has impacted you.  The restrictions.  The shortages.  The loneliness.  The fear.  The loss of jobs.  The threat of untimely death.  The boredom.  The disappointments.  The breakdown of our economies.  The failed businesses and organizations.  The need to protect oneself at all times.  The awareness required in all our activities.  The lack of easy communication and gathering.  It is draining and it is wearing us down.

We have lost a bit of freedom.  It seems to be exhausting many of us.  But it is for the greater good, so we carry on as best we can and hope for solutions that will return us to lives that are full and interesting and move in the directions we desire.  We assume we will regain what was lost, or at least regain the ability to rebuild.  We are weary, but able to be hopeful.

Not every experience is like this.  Some hopes are dashed repeatedly.  Across generations.  It is not lost on me that those who suffer at the hands of oppression are infinitely more exhausted than what we are feeling after a couple of months of isolation in this pandemic.  And it is not lost on me that what we choose to hear as this wind blows is critically important right now.  This is a storm borne from poor choices.  My poor choices.  My complacency as a white person, comfortable with my life and its privilege.  Neglectful of the weariness of those with very different life experiences.   I don’t know what the answers are, but I know that something must change.  To require people to live with injustice, fear and exhaustion for so long is simply reprehensible.

We choose the wind that steers our sails.  We choose the direction we go, the route and the speed.  We can find ways to be reminded of our vainest tears, and the times we forget that love is a flag that must be held high regardless of its weight or our weakness. We can choose to change the world.  We can choose to make whatever sacrifice is needed to ensure all are able to sail in safety.  We can brave another cruise and feel a refreshing breeze.  We can.

Amidst everything that is swirling around us, there is still beauty.  As I sit at my desk this morning, I am listening to birds sing.  It seems there are more than usual, that they sing louder and with more enthusiasm.  I don’t know if that’s true, but it is a lovely sound.  The sun is shining and the sky is a perfect blue with a few puffy clouds.  There is a lushness to the green in my garden, and in the yards of my neighbours.  It feels as though nature’s beauty is reclaiming this little spot where I live.  This world of ours is a wonder.  It sustains us and reminds us that all who walk upon it are worthy of what it offers.  Enjoy its beauty and be reminded that each one of us deserves to live on this planet – safely, fully and with compassion for those with whom we share this beautiful place.

*

I’ve been thinking about this beautiful world we live in this week.  It’s autumn, such a perfect season for those of us that love the changing colours of the leaves and the crisp, refreshing weather.  But, perhaps you prefer winter with its sparkling white stillness and peaceful dark evenings.  Or summer, with its lush gardens and radiant sunshine.  Maybe your favourite time is spring when everything is bursting with life.  The possible variations of beauty offered to us are many.

This old hymn, written by Isaac Watts in 1715, speaks to the beauty of nature.  His understanding of the value of all these wonders is quite powerful.  Mountains rise, seas flow, skies are lofty, the sun rules the day, the moon and stars shine at night.  There is the goodness of food and creatures, and there is not a plant or flower that doesn’t express something glorious.  These words speak to the incredible value of what we have and what we share.

I sing the mighty power of God 
that made the mountains rise, 
that spread the flowing seas abroad 
and built the lofty skies. 
I sing the wisdom that ordained 
the sun to rule the day; 
the moon shines full at God’s command, 
and all the stars obey. 

I sing the goodness of the Lord 
that filled the earth with food; 
God formed the creatures with a word 
and then pronounced them good. 
Lord, how thy wonders are displayed, 
where’er I turn my eye, 
if I survey the ground I tread 
or gaze upon the sky!

There’s not a plant or flower below 
but makes thy glories known, 
and clouds arise and tempests blow 
by order thy your throne. 
While all that borrows life from thee 
is ever in thy care, 
there’s not a place that we can flee
but God is present there. 

When Watts wrote these words, I suspect his focus was on the power of God to create all these wonders.  And, for many, this continues to be a meaningful understanding of creation, of our world.  But even if you have a different understanding of our origins, there is something rather amazing about having a place on a planet so full; living amongst these things that are so easily seen as remarkable.  The beauty that surrounds us implies our own beauty, by association and by virtue of us being a part of the wonder of this beautiful world.

And yet, this week the UN panel on climate change released a report that paints a sad picture of how we have treated our planet.  Perhaps not entirely new information, but it is clear and quite dire.  We are said to be on a very short road to catastrophe. The impacts have already been seen and felt by many.  As I read through this hymn text, I was struck by how easily we praise the natural beauty around us – whether we consider it to be divinely derived or not – and how little we are willing to protect it when doing so means sacrificing our lifestyles, our aspirations, our wealth and our convenience.

If I really consider these words, I wonder if I am willing to go beyond my own enjoyment of the seasons, the glories of nature, the treasures of the animal world and really do what is required to protect all of these things I claim as beautiful. For that which is beautiful is something to be cared for, to be sheltered, to be encouraged to thrive.  These wonders are not merely for our consumption. They are essential for our health, welfare and future.  But if we believe in their intrinsic value, they are also worth conserving simply because they exist. The beauty of our earth is life giving and inspirational.  It is our saviour and our fortune.  We treat it as though it is our possession, to be used at our whim.  It is not. We owe it much more than we have been willing to repay.  We borrow our lives from it, and it is good.  We need to treat it as the treasure it is – a gloriously made gift to all who live now, and in days to come.  A gloriously made gift to be shared and cared for with a well-deserved tenacity and commitment.

This earth is our home.  Look around and take it all in.  It is worth so much more than we have given.  It is a mighty power – and it is beautiful.