In the last years of Pierre-Auguste Renoir's life, arthritis crippled his hands, making it extremely painful to hold a paintbrush, let alone create something beautiful with it. He continued to paint, however, by strapping a brush to his hand. When asked why he submitted his body to such suffering and frustration, he said, "The pain passes, but the beauty remains."
People are beautiful. Fat, thin, short, tall, big-nosed or lop-eared, blue- or gray-haired - whatever. Kind and charitable mouths are the most beautiful. Mouths that smile. Hands offering cups of cold water, no matter how calloused or wrinkled or however poorly manicured, are beautiful hands. Kindness beautifies the person - drawing him or her nearer into Beauty.
That doesn't mean that there are not truly attractive people in our world, people who make jaws drop, who cause traffic accidents. They are certainly there. But they have their own troubles. And deserve to be seen as beautiful for what they say and do as much as someone like me. Most of the time, they are never given the chance. People give me the chance every day. And what a shame that I don't always take them up on it.
Dostoevsky said that God will save the world through beauty.
As I enter the church, I dip my fingers into holy water and cross myself. Icons, sculptures, and stained glass surround me, proclaim the Good News. Indeed, the very architecture speaks in cruciform.
Beauty silences me. I breathe in deeply and kneel before the Mystery of God. And I am saved.
