“O LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth.” -Psalm 8:1, 9

The familiar passage from Psalms always brings to mind the worship chorus. I remember hearing it over and over as a child. I can hear the arrangement in my head, with the lead vocalist and choir backing him up, but for some reason the version I so distinctly remember eludes me on the internet, which is frustrating. With a few key words, we’re supposed to find anything we want.

As a dabbler in SEO and marketing, I’m always fascinated how I can type in a few words related to what I want to know, and the specifics will appear on my screen. There was an Italian restaurant in NYC that I could never remember the name of, so I searched “italian corner restaurant greenwich village,” and the fourth result in my query was Rosemary’s. How incredible is it that an algorithm turns our confusion into clarity?

Search engines are like writers. We often go to books, magazines, or newspapers with our questions in hopes that answers will be found and a peace of mind can be attained. We go in uncertain of what we need to know because, as my 7th grade teacher Mr. Lamitola would say over and over, “You don’t know what you don’t know.”

And such it is with art. We approach another’s creative work with the hopes of getting something we currently don’t have, be it peace or some other product such as excitement, enlightenment, or engagement. Should this be our end goal? Is this why so many artists have poured themselves into their work? So we can have some sort of feeling?

This seems like a noble goal, to create something that speaks to something greater than us. While he may have been writing about architecture, Alain de Botton also speaks about beauty in his book The Architecture of Happiness, and how “there is beauty in that which is stronger than we are.” Be it an impressive architectural feat, a masterfully produced painting, or a delicately crafted poem, we marvel at the ability of others to take the tools that are available to most of us and create something that most of us couldn’t even dream of putting together.

But herein lies the problem. We are often overwhelmed with the craft or, on the opposite side, take the product for granted. An art museum can produce awe, but it also can be a numbing experience, handing us large sums of artistic capital which we assume is commonplace given the sheer volume of works that surround us.

What is the purpose then? Shall we eschew the privilege of going to a museum to make a chance encounter with fine art that much more breathtaking? There is no crime in taking in the beauty that is around us, but beauty itself only has so much value. There must be a greater purpose, or we are left, like many artists of the Expressionist period, obsessed with the object itself and the process of crafting rather than its greater, existential truths.

Recently my executive pastor, Steve Hawthorne, spoke on identity and how when we find majesty in objects, it should in turn produce a sense of wonder in the LORD rather than the object itself. He noted that “[the objects] can reflect God’s majesty, but that’s not where God’s true majesty is… We need to start with God, otherwise we misplace majesty.”

Of course, this applies to everything in life. There is no beauty, goodness, or perfection without a source of those things. Now, this claim also requires that one adhere to the concept of objective truth, but the argument for that is neither short enough to put here nor essential for this article.

It’s interesting, then, that though we should look for beauty in all things, one man can argue for the beauty of the Rocky Mountains while another prefers the skyline of New York City. One man can marvel at a Vermeer for hours while another will stand before a Rothko and take it all in.

This is a result of what I’ve heard my lead pastor, Ryan Batzel, call “imperfect beauties.” They are the preferences of individuals, or the proclivities towards one display of God’s majesty over another. While we can educate ourselves on and expose ourselves to those which we do not naturally gravitate towards, there will never be a perfect appreciation of the other due to our fallen nature and inability to reconcile our preconceived notions of beauty with God’s ability to show himself through paintings and precipices.

One of the more recent lessons I’ve learned in appreciating beauty is through the instruction of Dr. Joshua Drake. I’ve always considered myself a city boy, but have also experienced many a vacation camping in the woods and lounging on the beach. Nevertheless, I still find myself drawn to skyscrapers, bustling crowds, and that sense of urgency which springs from the pavement of a thriving metropolis.

I mentioned this sentiment to Dr. Drake, and he said something which caught me off guard: “Cities are such wonderful displays of man’s dominion over the earth.” At first, I found it hard to imagine concrete jungles and smoke-filled air as beautiful, but after further reflection, this insight became clear. A city is indeed an example of how many have taken the tools and technologies that God has allowed mankind to produce and, in turn, create, albeit an imperfect creation.

On that note, I will close, but not without calling your attention to the Psalm at the top of this article. “Oh LORD, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth,” all of it. Be it towering structures or breathtaking vistas, masterfully crafted artwork or a photograph which captures any of the above, we must remember to begin and end with the notion that Christ is indeed the ultimate source of majesty from which true fulfillment and peace flows.

What are your favorite mirrors? What do they teach you about the majesty of God? Leave a comment below and let's talk!