In each of these events, there have been notable expressions of beauty that gave a kind of "depth perception" to my vision. Through the rawness of my experience of my father's final moments, I saw the beauty of flowers, delivered from all over the place, giving joy and brightness to the dullness of a home whose energy was so depleted. And I heard the beauty of dear friends who came a long way to play the organ and sing at the funeral, friends with whom I've shared many musical and sacred moments, who knew how to add beauty without removing holy.
When the tornadoes struck, we all observed such great destruction that it was difficult to find anything that would improve our vision. Then several choir directors got together and produced a concert full of the voices of children and adults from all over the community, whose purpose was to raise money for the victims of the weather disaster. The combination of the choirs was unprecedented, since each group has its own busy schedule. An audience of wounded neighbors rejoiced to hear the beauty of their singing, and gave generously, not only to help the effort, but to help teach the singing children that their efforts were important.
My daughter majored in Music Education, joining the family business. Prospective teachers bring their college experience to a close by serving as an intern with a school teacher in their field. Last week my daughter continued her internship with the music teacher of a school near her campus, even though her commencement took place the previous weekend. The teacher had given her charge of the Fifth Grade musical, and she wanted to see it through. I was able to attend and listen as my daughter conducted a large choir who sang and danced as she had taught them to do. The beauty of seeing my daughter in this leadership role was overwhelming, and I was emotional as I watched the expertise with which she conducted the program. During the final song, a soloist danced exuberantly across the stage, bringing the concert to a big finish. I later learned that this student was autistic, and didn't respond to the challenge of singing all that well. But my daughter had learned that he could break-dance, and had given him the opportunity to shine, adding an extra portion of beauty that no one expected.
In times of grief and despair and in times of celebration we "see through a glass darkly", failing to grasp more than a one-dimensional snapshot of the world that has become our context. And it is not just light that we need. It is beauty. Light shows us the reality of our grief more acutely. Beauty reveals that greater purposes are at work, and that all is not lost. Light is sufficient to reveal a diploma. Beauty reveals an educator who is prepared to find the best in a child, and set him free to dance and sing.
Apologists for arts education tout the practical benefits of the arts. We often hear of the positive effect of arts education on the study of math and science. Just today there is a scientific article in a prominent publication regarding the benefits of children's musical study on brain development. Certainly, these are worthy and seemingly obvious arguments. But we must not forget the more direct argument that we need art because beauty is our necessity, not our option or our frill. In the experiences of our lives, beauty helps us to see with depth perception, grasping more than a snapshot, and growing toward fullness of understanding.
