God and the Timeless Transcendentals: Truth, Goodness, and Beauty

3/24/24

The withering of the imagination to the point of poetic impotency at the hands of reason (logos) clad knowledge-seekers during the epoch of the Enlightenment left a void in its philosophical wake. But as we know from experience, human nature has a way of redressing itself by swinging the proverbial pendulum back toward what it was originally contesting. Thus, the Romantic movement was born. The emphases then were on the power of nature, and the celebration of spirited individuality with a full range of emotions (pathos).

My contention is that the effects of the Enlightenment-esque movement of rational apologetics in an increasingly aesthetically-seeking postmodern world are scorching the imaginative landscape of human experience. In its wake, the intellectual Christian establishment is witnessing a desire for something more fulfilling. May I suggest a renaissance of the neglected transcendental ideal of Beauty? 

I’m not suggesting we hyperfocus on it at the expense of the other two ideals—Truth and Goodness. This would be a tragic mistake. We need Christian poets and storytellers at the same table with philosophical theologians, ethicists, and apologists to help answer the quintessential questions of life: What’s real?, What’s right?, What’s lovely?, which, in that order, address the nature of truth (logos), morality (ethos), and beauty (pathos)—all intricately interwoven. 

For example, truth (in its purest form) is beautiful. And beauty is the desire to do good and know good in a perfect and personal way, not stoically but dynamically as in a relationship. And here-within lies our need for God, for God puts eternity in our hearts—an eternal pursuit of truth, goodness, and beauty, which are all ultimately grounded in God himself.

11/5/24

Kernels of gold sowed in sweat. Embodied husks designed to protect. Multicolored grain, a heavenly harvest. The plague in the Garden— one locust started— the Reaper ransoms to forget.   A rotted ear only hears the screams of its own dissection, an eternity of introspection. Rows of corn restless with guilt. The cup of wrath…

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10/18/24

Christmas for Ginny has always been the most important day of the year. It’s a magical day when anything is possible, like the unprecedented miracle of God taking on human form; it’s when a supernatural star led the Magi to the infant God-man, lying helplessly in a symbolic feeding trough; and it’s when men met God face-to-Face in a humble manger to worship him and feed from him. Ginny loves Christmas for both its majestic beauty and historical truth. She understands, however, that this sacred day has been tainted with folklore and commercialism, but experience and wisdom enable her to see these gilded traditions as a way to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane. For Ginny, a gift for someone special on Christmas is a reminder of the greatest Gift ever given. So naturally Ginny wants to give Brad something special for Christmas. But she, too, finds herself without two pennies to rub together. Then, suddenly, an idea flashes across her mind that makes her eyes water, feeling the internal warmth that comes with giving wholeheartedly.

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10/17/24

Ten years ago, my parents, Robert and Sheila, were killed in a car accident on Christmas Day. A head on collision with a drunk driver took them away from me. It turned out that both front airbags were defective. They were coming back from looking at Christmas lights. My seven-year-old daughter was in the back seat. She was not wearing her seatbelt. She was thrown from the wreckage. She died instantly.

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