Dangerous Beauty

I was driving from Ladner to Steveston yesterday morning, and as I headed north, the sun appeared from behind some clouds and shone on the snowcapped peaks of the North Shore mountains. The effect of the light was stunning. I was under grey clouds, but the mountains sparkled like jewels.

As I admired the beauty of this display, I wondered what it would be like if I suddenly transported from my car into the middle the scene and found myself on those sparkling mountain tops. It would be beautiful, yes, but also cold, windy, and possibly dangerous (not to mention dangerous for the other drivers near my suddenly unmanned vehicle). I thought, "I'm glad I'm here and not there. I'm happy to admire from afar."

There are times logic would dictate enjoying beauty from a distance.  For example, a fire in a hearth from a distance looks welcoming and rustic. A little closer and one might enjoy its warmth. Get too close, however, and there will be pain. That said, in another circumstance, the same fire that burns, if heated even hotter, can purify metals and create glass.

There are other times one might think we should admire from afar, but in reality we are called to come closer, even at the cost of our comfort. One of those instances is with God. "Dangerous beauty" could be a pretty accurate description of God.

What do I mean by that?

First, Jesus is beautiful. I'm not talking in the physical sense (in fact, Isaiah 53:2 tells us just the opposite - he had no physical beauty that we should admire him). But when we see him in the gospels, his demeanor, kindness, compassion, protectiveness of the marginalized, and other attributes makes him attractive to us. He promises to not give us more and more burden, but instead give us rest. He offers us love and acceptance when the world crushes our soul. This is beautiful.

Second, however, is this beautiful Jesus asks us to follow him, but makes it clear that following him comes with a cost. He says:
 

 "If any of you want to walk My path, you’re going to have to deny yourself. You’ll have to take up your cross every day and follow Me."

~ Jesus, in Luke 9:23

Dietrich Bonhoeffer (20th century prisoner and eventual martyr under the Nazi regime) put it even more bluntly: "“The Cross is laid on every Christian… When Christ calls a man, He bids him come and die.”

That's the "danger." The cost of following the beautiful Jesus may be (rather, will be) our comfort, our self-focus, our ego, our desire for control, our power tripping, our hoarding of wealth, our arrogant judgment of others, our anger every time we are inconvenienced, and our callousness toward the marginalized.

In other words, if we want to live for self, the beauty of Jesus is a very dangerous beauty. We approach the warm flame of his welcoming love, and soon discover that the flame also painfully purifies.

So why bother? Why would we follow Jesus - even if we know he's beautiful and appealing -  if following him comes at such a high cost?

Well, beyond what we've already read above, it's the only way to be truly, fully, completely alive as we were meant to be. All the things we need to shed and be purified from are the very things that keep us from being our true selves. When they go, even at the cost of pain, we are liberated from the oppression of self and can be fully, wonderfully, beautifully human as Jesus models.

PAUSE and REFLECT: Have you noticed the beauty of Jesus? Have his words and actions drawn you into his welcoming love for you? Be fully aware: it comes at a cost, and that cost is you. Not the real you, but the shadow of the real you that may be guiding your thoughts and actions right now. 

However, as we die to that shadow of self, we become more fully alive to our true selves, and Jesus wants to guide us there. 

Where might he be inviting you into the warm, welcoming, but purifying flame of his beautiful love? Where might he bid you to come and die? Take a moment to ask him. And then, when you're ready...

Step into the beautiful flame.