Never Too Gentle: a Short Reflection on the Imitation of God's Beauty
Prayer—in the infinitesimal acquaintance that I have with it—is an extraordinarily gentle thing. God so tenderly touches the heart that is in agony and that can only just receive the most simple caress. This we find in the beauty of Jesus Christ who is the “Only Lover of Mankind” as we pray and sing while the light fades away each day to night. The downtrodden will always find Christ to be Isaiah’s suffering servant:
Despised and shunned by people, a man of sorrows and visited by illness. And like one from whom the gaze is averted, despised, and we reckoned him naught. Indeed, he has borne our illness, and our sorrows he has carried.1
It is true that God harshly opposes the proud and the powerful. They break against God like waves against granite cliffs. However, God’s condescension to the poor, the hungry, and the weak is measureless in its patient and quiet attention. God’s radiance blinds the arrogant who grasp at beauty, but it never blinds the contrite of heart. Instead, our Father’s beauty only just breaks like a blush over the horizon for anyone who will lift their weary eyes in search of light. It is like the faintest kiss of dawn warning us of a brilliance and warmth from which we must, for now, be gently hidden.
