Vibrant Beauty
Blessed are the people who know the passwords of praise,
who shout on parade in the bright presence of God.
Delighted, they dance all day long;
they know who you are, what you do—they can’t keep it quiet!
Your vibrant beauty has gotten inside us—
you’ve been so good to us! We’re walking on air!
—Psalm 89:17-18, the Message
“Your vibrant beauty has gotten inside us.” What kind of people might we be if we were so besotted by the beauty of God that we just couldn’t keep it quiet? Like a young maiden desperately in love for the first time, our joy keeps us humming while we work. “Aren’t his eyes the most gorgeous shade of blue?” we ask for the fourteenth time. We forget about ourselves. We feel super-human. If we loved Jesus like that, the haters would have to lock us away to keep us from singing praises. Even then, with our feet in shackles, our backs bloodied like Paul and Silas, the songs would continue to burst forth.
This compulsion to love is not a duty. It is a “can’t not do it” kind of compulsion. “They know who you are, what you do—they can’t keep it quiet.” This is a far cry from the anxiety I felt about inviting a neighbor to church this summer. I was afraid of rejection, that he would now want to avoid me, labeling me as “one of those loony Evangelicals.” I’m not afraid of persecution, I just hate awkward. And I hate being looked down on. But the love-struck maiden couldn’t care less about what anyone thinks of her. She is “walking on air” and is not coming down anytime soon. She wonders why we can’t also see how wonderful her man is?
In Revelation 2:4, Jesus confronts the church of Ephesus, despite their hard work and courage, for abandoning the love that they had for Him, the Bridegroom, at first. The marriage has become a dull partnership rather than a passionate romance. He calls them to repent and return to their first love. How, I wondered, are we responsible for reviving spent passion? Can we even control that? Isn’t it enough to simply be faithful? But what spouse is content with mere “faithfulness” as wonderful as that is? So why should it be enough for God in whose image we are made?
Psalm 89 shows us how to fall in love again. We make space to gaze upon His beauty. Notice. Take delight. Praise. The discipline required is attentiveness and responsiveness to what we notice. The passion is the natural fruit. These slowing, intentional practices awaken our souls to the vibrant beauty through which God is continually wooing us. How often do we, like the Ephesians, brush off his flirtatious advances saying, “Somebody’s got to make dinner around here.” We boast that we are merely doing our duty, but we stubbornly reject our Lover’s invitation, thereby rejecting Him. Our love instead grows cold and resentful of the interruption because we have our hearts set on “an act of service” which He never even asked for. Meanwhile, our jilted Lover is still enamored with us, still hopeful and playful, still desiring our presence and embrace. Waiting for us to notice Him.
What if we forced ourselves to stop and look at the sky painting He wants to show us, or the profusion of flowers He places in our path to delight us? What if we stop and dance with Him more often? Co-create with Him? Serve alongside Him? Sing out loud. Might our love begin to revive? Just like it was in the old days? And if our love returns, might not also our joy and peace? We are His. He just wants us to act like it. And then, what kind of people might we be?
