Do What Is Most Beautiful
You can't win most arguments, but you can transform all of them.
It's the first Sunday of 2024, a year it seems everyone is predicting could be an especially dark year.
It is a snowy and slippery morning, but our aging congregation has found their way to our weekly celebration anyway. At the appointed moment, the rector emerges from the wings, but something isn’t quite right with the ritual.
The pipe organ is quiet and the bench in front of it is empty.
He makes an announcement. The evening before, the organist fell and broke his arm. There was an effort to find a replacement, but this morning the regionally-renowned organ refused to start. With no accompaniment, the choir has been dismissed for the day. My thoughts trend toward foreboding.
Not a great start to the year, I think. Seems symbolic. Maybe it’s an omen.
He announces we’ll sing the first verse of the first hymn together, a cappella. Those who can stand, stand. A deep, collective breath is taken.
“The first Noel the angel did say was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay;”
The collective voice of the gathered is clarion. It is somehow bolder in the midst of the broken morning. Clearer in the midst of what has cracked and stayed quiet. If you have good news to sing, after all, the most important time to sing it is not when things are going well but when things are going south.
“…in fields as they lay, keeping their sheep, on a cold winter’s night that was so deep.”
And on a cold winter’s morning that was so deep, our humble little gathering of the faithful in the middle of nowhere showed me the truth:
Not every moment is beautiful, but you can do something beautiful in every moment.
I am certain of very little anymore, but I might just be certain of this: if, moment to moment, we all did what is most beautiful right now, there’d be a great light in the midst of whatever darkness persists. Because beauty tends to be the metric most difficult for our minds to manipulate, the heuristic most difficult for the ego to hijack, the quality most difficult for a closed heart to counterfeit. So…
What if, instead of doing what is toughest, strongest, or loudest, we did what is most beautiful?
What if, instead of doing what is most obvious, certain, or guaranteed, we did what is most beautiful?
What if, instead of doing what is smartest, savviest, or wisest, we did what is most beautiful?
What if instead of doing what is most religious, devout, or loyal, we did what is most beautiful?
What if, instead of even doing what is most moral, ethical, or principled, we did what is most beautiful and watched our morals catch up with the truth and goodness that transpires?
“Noel, Noel, Noel, Noel,” we sang in the midst of the silent organ. The word noel comes from the Latin verb nasci, meaning “to be born.”
When darkness is on the docket, it’s up to each of us to give birth to a little more beauty in the midst of it.
What are you already doing to make the world a more beautiful place? What will you do in the weeks ahead to make the world a more beautiful place? Feel free to share that, or any other reaction you have to this post, in the comments, and I’ll be sure to reply.
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“Not every moment is beautiful, but you can do something beautiful in every moment.” This quote is, in and of itself, beautiful. It beckons us to create the life we want rather than reacting to escape the life we have.
"If you have good news to sing, after all, the most important time to sing it is not when things are going well but when things are going south."
OOF. How easy it is to forget this! Not least because, when things are going south, we forget there's good news at all. Maybe one of the most beautiful things we can do is to remember...