Clothed in Beauty

The speakers boomed the organ’s crescendo which, even upon the hundredth time hearing it, still sent chills down my spine. It had been an unspoken rule since my childhood that if you listen to The Phantom of the Opera (Original 1986 London Cast) Soundtrack, it better be on full volume-- and it was mortal sin to talk over the music. My mom and I sat on the couch and listened. The instruments would soften soon and seamlessly transform into the phantom’s seductive anthem: The Music of the Night. My mom’s face gradually transformed from utter exhaustion (after a full day of teaching 4^th grade) to awe. She had tears barely forming in her eyes, and I did too.

 “That is what I imagine Heaven is like,” she told me after we made it through All I Ask of You, a sweet and passionate love song that has always been a favorite of ours.  I giggled, imagining hearing the infamous phantom’s maniacal cackle echo as I enter the pearly gates. Yet I knew what she meant. Each part of the soundtrack was breathtaking: the melody, the voices, the lyrics, and the orchestra all working together to create this great triumph, a celebration of passion, beauty, and truth

For days after, I would sing its songs, irritating my poor family with my off-key and hopelessly untrained voice.

“God gave me the desire and passion for singing like those musicians, yet certainly not the ability to do so!” I joked with my mom.

She agreed that she felt the same way, and even noted it felt like a “cruel joke.” She asked, “Now why would God do that?”

 I shrugged and said, “Well, maybe our lack of talent gives us a greater respect and appreciation for the music.”

“…Yes. You’re right. I like that answer a lot,” she replied.

              

Truly, this feeling of great respect for art is more present in my life when it comes to books. I always wanted to be a writer, but in high school I learned I really wanted to be a reader. It all began with The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger in sophomore honors English. It truly spoke to awkward, lonely adolescent me, and from that point on, I would defend that book aggressively to anyone who would call it “dumb” or “pointless.” The typical classics I learned to cherish would come next, The Great Gatsby, Dracula, The Kite Runner, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men just to name a few of the most famous ones. Even when parts confused or even frustrated me, it was somehow clear to me that these were treasures. In every book, even the ones I didn’t like, something would resonate deeply within my soul. Even when I couldn’t put my finger on what exactly made me so crazy about it, I felt there was a spec of truth in each one. The cool thing was these were classics for a reason— strangers across time and space also were obsessed with them. These books unite humanity in our shared quest for truth.

And it really did make me go a little crazy. I felt so greedy. I wanted to read all of the classics—plus, the non-classics too—and completely clothe myself in their beauty. A socially acceptable way to do so is to study English literature at a university, and so that is exactly what I did. Yet paradoxically, the more I drank from the literary fountain, the thirstier I became. In my free time, I began attending plays and watching higher quality films. It didn’t greatly bother me when I couldn’t find someone to join me because I was anything but lonely. I was embraced by the universal human spirit.

This leads me to today. I have so many books, my mom accused me being a hoarder when helping me move last summer. I agreed to donate my clothes and various other personal belongings, but made it clear that the books were going nowhere. Therefore, I had to convince my fiancé to order a gigantic bookshelf. And I fully accept that I will likely have to say “goodbye” to even more of my things to fit these books in our tiny apartment. Take away everything else, but please don’t take my books! (I guess I am that crazy old woman in Fahrenheit 451 who decides to perish with her books as the firemen set her house on fire.)

My fiancé enjoys books and films too, but as a software engineer, is far more left-brained. However, our passions have a great overlap in our shared Christian faith. He has been curious as to the reason for our love of books, movies, paintings, etc. As a computer programmer, he sees God as the master programmer of the universe. He tells me, “We are programmed to loves what God loves.” (So does that mean God also loves the dramatic highs and lows of The Phantom of the Opera -- 1986 Original London Cast soundtrack? Yay!)

Present-day theologian Timothy Keller describes beauty as one of the five clues for the existence of God. He argues that even secularists can’t deny that, “…in the presence of great art and beauty we inescapably feel that there is real meaning in life, there is truth and justice there that will never let us down, and love means everything,” (The Reason for God: Belief in the Age of Skepticism, 134).

In this way, I find beauty in music, books, and other art forms simply because it is there. The great artists used their God-given talent to illuminate a truth about Him. I am programmed to recognize and love beauty because God recognizes and loves beauty. And God is absolutely drenching me with beauty— through books and films and music, but also through mountains and oceans and starry skies. If you ask my fiancé, math and science are filled with beauty too—equations we can follow, rules we can trust, reasons we can find. These subjects tap into millions of little truths that somehow fit into the greater Truth, the mysterious map of our universe and beyond.

Something that astounds me is that God didn’t have to do any of this. He didn’t have to give us the cognitive faculties to recognize acceleration of gravity as 9.8 m/s/s. He didn’t have to design the human nervous system in a way we can study and understand its functioning. He didn’t have to give writers the ability to touch the soul of a stranger. And he didn’t have to grant composers the skill to manipulate the mathematical rules of music to create harmonious melodies. Really, when you think of it, these are all just extras. God’s beauty and truth are present regardless of whether humans recognize it or not. Yet life isn’t life so much more exciting when we gain this awareness? When we can actually seek beauty for ourselves and recognize when we are in its presence? When it can make us laugh, smile, and cry?

God clearly wants us to experience the profound triumph of beauty, and I am so grateful He does. Maybe showering us with His beauty wasn’t totally necessary, but God did it anyway because he must really love us. He wants to show Himself in our everyday lives. He wants us to catch these glimpses of truth and feel hope. He wants us to feel His comfort in our trials and take confidence in the fact that He is here.

Of course, I can’t be sure we will all hear The Phantom of the Opera blasting once we finally enter Heaven’s gates. But if God clothes us in beauty during our stay at a flawed and sinful earth, can you imagine what he has in store for us at His paradise?

Works Cited

Keller, Timothy. The Reason for God: Belief in an Age of Skepticism. Penguin, 2016.

Webber, Andrew Lloyd, et al. The Phantom of the Opera: Original Cast Recording.