Of Glory

You know, I think we do all that we do for glory. Because glory connotes a sense of the eternal; a purpose beyond a mere act.




I just watched a Chopped episode in which a Christian competitor brought a spirit of rightness to the competition. He didn't win, but it was a different sort of episode to watch because of his humility. The way he acted, I think, defined the competition. There was a spirit of inspiration; of greatness; of possibility. And God had his glory in the episode because it was inspiring - literally "life giving."

We want greatness as humans, don't we? To be distinguished by glory - that ethereal "otherness." The possession of right action in the right manner, place, and time. That's glory.

And because a glorious God created us, we as humans strive to create gloriously. And I think, in fact, glory is what makes a work of art a masterpiece.

It's what some humans live for, isn't it? The glory of the perfecting a sauce; splashing golden hues of paint across a taut canvas; soaring notes at the opera; a beautiful woman. (Perhaps even our obsession in gorgeous celebrities there is redemption?) We want glory. Originally, you know, we basked in it in the Garden. There was, after all, only our naked little selves and God.  

I wonder if all the creators in the world are motivated to return to the Garden through their art. Art is a saving grace, no?

So often what we want is really a desire for glory - prestige, power, beauty: all these things hold sway on us because they allegedly give glory. But they alone won't satisfy.

Glory - what the ancients called blessedness - is found in Him. Because He is peace, and peace brings rightness to all things. Even men.