George Frideric Handel debuted his work Messiah on April 13, 1742, in Dublin, Ireland. This famous masterpiece took Handel just 24 days to write and encompassed three concepts: the story of the nativity and its prophecy, the crucifixion and redemption of mankind, and a commentary on the Christian soul and its victory over death. The crowd that assembled for the premiere performance that evening was so moved that they ended up donating the modern-day equivalent of over $100,000 to charity. Amid the rapturous reception of one of the most beautiful works of music the world had ever heard, the story goes that one particular statesman in attendance declared to Handel that he thought the audience found the music to be “a noble entertainment."
Handel was crestfallen. “I should be so sorry if I only entertained them,” he replied to the statesman. “I wished to make them better.”
Many years ago, there was a movement in Christianity that really troubled me. I don’t know how it originated—whether it was the result of certain books or some popular teachers—but there was a passing trend in Christian circles toward an unhealthy obsession with authenticity. This trend (for lack of a better word) seemed to prioritize authenticity over personal striving for holiness and growth.
Honesty…..vulnerability…..authenticity…..these are all good things of course. But balance is important. In this off-kilter emphasis, brokenness functionally became the lifeblood of living in community. We were to connect to each other over the tether of our sin, not our Savior. In turn, there was an air of ostracism that occurred when one was not “showing up” with adequate authenticity. The new mantra of Christian life seemed to be “you do you.”
It was a curious fad.
In this season, I feel there is a danger of something similar happening with our focus on life change. I appreciated Monty’s warning a few weeks ago about how we ask “So What” after these messages in Galatians. There is a healthy caution about the need for grace and thoughtfulness amidst post-sermon takeaways…..otherwise they could feel like an overwhelming to-do list. As if sermon application is primarily an endless weekly list of reasons we are horrible freighted with things we need to work on to be better.
Christian life is not a navel-gazing catharsis—it is a Christ-gazing endeavor. Said another way: I don’t believe we see Jesus because of and through our sin. Quite the opposite. As with the authenticity trend, there is a better path to intimacy than essentially ‘trauma-bonding.’
Isaiah saw the Lord high and lifted up on His throne in the temple, surrounded by heavenly creatures worshiping Him in a scene of unmatched splendor, glory, and power. Seeing the Lord rightly, Isaiah then saw himself rightly in the moment—and was thus redeemed.
In his book, A Divine and Supernatural Light, Jonathan Edwards argues that an immediate revelation of God’s glory illuminates the sinner’s heart, leading to repentance. He believed that only through a sense of the divine beauty and holiness does one truly comprehend self.
Likewise, in Surprised by Joy, C.S. Lewis wrote about how he first encountered God’s presence (Joy) before becoming aware of his need. This deep revelation of God’s beauty and glory drew Lewis to God and illuminated his understanding of the need for redemption.
Christ-followers find Jesus beautiful. Not just useful- but beautiful. As I once heard Tim Keller preach, a sinner is never going to feel safe realizing his sin apart from first knowing a beauty and love like the Lord to whom he can take it.
In one of his letters, Robert Murray McCheyne wrote the following exhortation:
“For every look at yourself, take ten looks at Christ. He is altogether lovely. Such infinite majesty, and yet such meekness and grace, and all for sinners, even the chief! Live much in the smiles of God. Bask in His beams. Feel His all-seeing eye settled on you in love, and repose in His almighty arms..."
“Live much in the smiles of God.” Now there’s an idea for life change strategy.
Against an overwrought introspection that may be unwittingly sneaking self-indulgence, self-centeredness, and self-help into our sanctification—we have worship. Worship of the Beautiful One. Jesus is the horizon we constantly fix our eyes on for life change— not our old identity apart from Christ. All eyes on the Beauty…not the blasphemer.
I like how Tony Reinke phrased apprehending this beauty of Jesus as embracing “the expulsive power of a new affection.” The old ways don’t taste the same. The old life doesn’t fit the same way. The old appeals fade. Slowly, maybe… but still slowly.
As McCheyne went on to say:
“… Let your soul be filled with a heart-ravishing sense of the sweetness and excellency of Christ and all that is in Him. Let the Holy Spirit fill every chamber of your heart; and so there will be no room for folly, or the world, or Satan, or the flesh.”
I love the sound of that… a beauty that makes us better.