. . . Define “beauty” or “the beautiful.” Is all beauty purely subjective, or is there objective beauty? Why do people disagree (sometimes violently) about what is beautiful? How do we distinguish the ugly from the beautiful? Is sacred art proof for the existence of God? . . . Pick just one.
Generally it means pleasing to the senses, sensibilities or the intellect, which is how we know things. As has been stated, it is identical to the good, existence and the truth. God created everything and saw that it was good - it is beautiful, as He is Beauty.
One could say that beauty is witnessed in the context of relationships, so that it is beyond a subjective-objective dichotomy.
- With people it is pretty clear that the more you love someone, in spite of whatever physical and psychological ugliness the bear, you are witness to their beauty. Sin is a deprivation of goodness and hence beauty, but as long as some of the person’s humanity remains, there is something to love, something beautiful.
- There are physical wonders, so pure and powerful in their representation of nature that they open the heart to the beauties of creation.
A few weeks ago I was up north on a clear moonless night with a friend, the vastness of the heavens above, a fresh breeze carrying the scent of pines; the call of loons echoed from distant lakes to those nearby, accentuating the deepness of the silence around us.
My story led an old woman to reminisce about a warm summer nights, before the War, in the very small town where she was born. The men would meet after dinner at the local (and only bar) - a chorus making its way through the streets, the air filled with their alpine melodies of love, sadness and home. So much beauty, it broke your heart.
What proof is needed, knowing Love or Beauty, Truth: Being Itself? We search for Him because there is nothing else that can satisfy.
“The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing — to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from — my country, the place where I ought to have been born. Do you think it all meant nothing, all the longing? The longing for home? For indeed it now feels not like going, but like going back.”
― C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces