Though we may bestow the adjective of “beautiful” upon many different nouns, though we all have different ideas as to what specific things are “beautiful,” we all have one thing in common: we hold beauty to a standard. We have certain criterion that things must meet to be deemed “beautiful” and if they do not measure up they are simply not “beautiful”. The pageant participant is never given points for trying to get rid of acne; the soloist is never applauded for nearly hitting the proper note. The author is never granted stars and good reviews for writing an almost touching love story. No matter our personal idea of “beauty” we all have one thing in common: beauty is success.
This mentality is not abandoned when we consider the “beauty” of less mundane things—such as the beauty of the soul. Internal or spiritual beauty is held to the same requirements as everything else. We never call someone “patient” when they are merely attempting to be; we call them that when they have succeeded. The sinner struggling to overcome pride and vanity is never called humble. No one gets points for trying. I have found this very depressing.
“Beauty is on the inside!” I have heard many people quip in order to comfort others who feel physically ugly; but if beauty is measured by success, have they not just forever ripped beauty from us? They have merely exchanged one success for another, and the new one is much harder to attain! Our standard for beauty leaves no room for mistakes. And who is perfect? No one. Failure, weakness, and imperfection are most feared, and they are unavoidable.
So, perfection and success are out of the question; the only thing we can ever be is perfectly imperfect…
…and that, I maintain, is the key to the greatest amount of beauty we will ever have.
Gertrud von le Fort wrote a novel entitled “The Song at the Scaffold” which takes place during the French Revolution. It is about a young girl named Blanche who from infancy suffered from debilitating anxiety attacks. When she joins a Carmelite convent, she is met with a courageous group of women who want nothing more than to become martyrs for the Lord in those troubled times. Poor Blanche does not have the strength or courage to handle even the idea of martyrdom, and ends up leaving the convent. The story goes on to tell how she learns to accept her debilitating fear and how, in the end, that sacrifice was greater than the sacrifice of literal martyrdom. I was very touched by the tale, and was left wondering how a weakness as great as Blanche’s could have such a beauty about it.
The thing about Blanche is that she is perfectly imperfect, and she is well aware of the fact. She does not strive for utter success; she did all that was in her power to be as good as she could be, but the rest she simply accepted. She then did what few imperfect people do; she brought her weakness before the one person who could truly understand. She brought her failure before the one person who carried all the failure of the entire world. She gave herself—every blemished minute particle of it—to Christ.
Those things truly beautiful are those qualities and virtues which reflect the source of all Beauty—God. It is difficult for Blanche to accept that she is not like her fellow Sisters, yet when she does so she bears her own personal cross alongside the Crucified Christ. Pure perfection being unobtainable, she became perfectly imperfect and in doing so became as perfect as she would ever be. Her weakness was beautiful with the reflected beauty of the Cross.
We all have blemishes—physical, spiritual, personality-wise—that keep us from perfection. Sometimes, it may seem that just as you obtain one virtue another vice is brought to light. We long for complete holiness, to be one with God, to have great spiritual beauty. However, our concupiscent selves always seem to be getting in the way of perfection. Though this should be a cause of grief for us, it also presents us with a great opportunity. Even as we grieve over our faults, Jesus on the Cross grieves over them with us. We reflect Him in that moment as much as we ever will in this valley of tears. The world tells us that beauty is success and perfection, and that may be so; but it is precisely in our imperfection that we are brought closest to Christ.
Blanche would have never been able to unite herself with Christ on the Cross has she not had her own cross of imperfection to bear. As hard as my cross(es) are to bear, as difficult as my imperfection is to accept, I thank God for the opportunity to unite myself with Him, and I pray that I can do it as well as Blanche.
Tally blogs at The Hidden Battles, and is a member of CathSorority.
No comments:
Post a Comment