beauty and desire

In his essay Created Beauty: The Witness of J.S. Bach, Jeremy S. Begbie lays out 6 foundational points on which, he believes, a theological account of creation should rest. Then, he gives a synopsis of Johann Sebastian Bach’s writing philosophy as it is applied to The Goldberg Variations, and then uses that philosophy to give witness to the theological criteria that he laid out. It’s simply genius.

Foundational point #6 is currently my favorite, and it pretty simple on its face:
Beauty ellicits desire.

But, my friend, the explanation is far from simple. In fact, I will spare you all the gory details and give you the quote that best sums it all up…

“Indeed, can we not say that to experience the allure of God is nothing other than to experience the Spirit reconciling us to the Father through the Son and thus reordering our desires? No wedge need be driven between agape and eros provided the latter is not allowed to introduce notions of subsuming the other under manipulative restraint; indeed…God’s love, and hence the love with which we come to love God is ‘eros and agape at once: a desire for the other that delights in the distance of otherness.’ As far as created beauty is concerned, beauty in the world that glorifies God will also evoke desire – a yearning to explore and take pleasure in whatever is beautiful” (31).

This is an idea that I most understand when I recall how hearing good music makes me feel. It even happened this morning. I was at Peet’s and there was some classical music playing. It was so riveting because the structure was so much like classical music; there was a theme, and then there was improvisation based on the theme from all the different instruments. The best was the harpsichord; its improvisation was eloquent, but then it got twice as fast. The rush of notes and arpeggios was fascinating, but the chord progression was a clear as day. It was one of the best harpsichords I have ever heard.

As I drove home from the coffee shop, I found myself humming a melody. It wasn’t the one I heard, but another one that I was making up. It resembled a typical classical music melody; one with a dancing rhythm and lots of uniform and deliberate modulations. This kind of thing happens to me whenever I hear really good music; I am inspired to create music myself. It’s a phenomenon of contagion not so different to that which happens when I see God at work among my friends. I become attracted to the God in them that I know hasn’t taken root in myself, and I want to be just like that. It’s the same thing.

The key is this: I know that the music I am listening to is something too good for me to have written myself, but I am still compelled to attempt to contribute something in the same voice that might display some proportion of beauty. And it all starts with my attraction to something that is beautiful. And again, the same can be said of my relationship with Jesus. It all started when he first intrigued me in 7th grade with “Seek ye first the Kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all other things shall be added unto you.” Then, 6 years later, he got all in my business and “told me all that I ever did.” Then, I knew he was real and that he wanted me. And now, I live my life in response to the beauty that is his glory, his apaugasma, his “breaking light that shatters all darkness.”

The attraction that we have to good art mirrors the attraction that we have for God. For the beauty that we experience in art has its source in the glory of the Creator Majesty and his most excellent Son. For it is my God that has, for all eternity, demonstrated his ability to cut through all darkness and make goodness and light appear by his command. And whenever you experience art cutting into the dark parts of your soul and producing hope and joy and peace, I hope you remember that you are experiencing the beauty of God, wooing you to himself and offering you life like you’ve never seen. And if you understand who’s doing the wooing, then you’d know that resistance is futile.