The sweet sounds and glories of earth and sky, assuming manifold forms and colors,—are they not tangible and material?
As Mind they are real, but not as matter. All beauty and goodness are in and of Mind, emanating from God; but when we change the nature of beauty and goodness from Mind to matter, the beauty is marred, through a false conception, and, to the material senses, evil takes the place of good.
— Mary Baker Eddy, Rudimental Divine Science, p. 6
During my last year of architecture school, I worked as a teaching assistant in a course that explored the more generic and enticing aspects of design. I remember one lecture that I particularly enjoyed, where the professor opened by asking, “Is beauty in the eye of the beholder?”
He went on to show a series of slides, and the students were asked to raise their hands if they thought the images were particularly beautiful. They included generic paintings, sculptures, buildings, cars, and furniture. Hands would go up at random from all sides of the room, leading to the natural conclusion that beauty was indeed in the eye of the beholder.
After taking a break to make this point, however, the professor went on to show a series of images that came with an added dimension—those believed to be more globally accepted as beautiful, for instance, the Mona Lisa and the Taj Mahal. And it was interesting to note that with those slides, almost every student raised his or her hand—indicating a higher percentage of appreciation for what was being shown.
The lecture did not end with any definitive conclusion on beauty. Instead, it left the issue open for consideration, but the illustration kept me thinking about the concept of beauty for a long time. I remember asking myself afterward, “When the professor showed an image that one person thought to be beautiful and another did not, did beauty leave that object while the second person looked?” Obviously not, I reasoned. Each person beheld beauty within their thought, and reacted according to their own preferences. But then why were some expressions of beauty more widely accepted than others, as suggested by the second set of slides? Did those objects possess inherent beauty beyond the rest?
It was not until years later, through the study of Christian Science, that I began to define beauty from a spiritual perspective. And finally, it all began to make sense.
It was not until years later, through the study of Christian Science, that I began to define beauty from a spiritual perspective. And finally, it all began to make sense.
As I thought about the second set of images, I realized that the people or objects depicted were not necessarily more beautiful than those in the first set, but rather, the way my thought reflected upon most of them transcended the image being shown. It was the story or ideas they evoked which made them beautiful. When I looked at the Mona Lisa for example, I did not think of her physical beauty, but rather I thought about what the painting meant, the story told by her face, its impact on society—she was a masterpiece!
The real beauty was in what the image represented, in the ideas, not the object itself. And these ideas could be recognized by anyone, regardless of individual preferences. From this perspective, beauty is not a transient quality—moving in and out of objects, depending on who is observing or how it is presented. It is not in any way attached to, or radiated from, matter. Beauty is the real and normal expression of thought uplifted.
We may have individual material preferences, acquired by culture, education, or experience. But these preferences are not a good standpoint from which to judge and appreciate beauty, because they are changeable, and thus unstable. From a material standpoint, our ability to see beauty—in relationships, artistic expressions, or ourselves—is unstable as well.
As Mary Baker Eddy says in Rudimental Divine Science (quoted above), “All beauty and goodness are in and of Mind, emanating from God; . . . .” So when we look for beauty in matter, we can only find imperfection, because matter is the opposite of Mind—and Mind is where beauty resides. Material beauty, sought after through the ages and a driving force in human efforts, is simply unattainable—an illusion, or oxymoron. Beauty, forever in and of Mind, cannot be gained, expressed, or lost by matter. A material object can never become, nor has it ever been, Mind.
Real beauty is a mental concept, emanating from God, and understood by man—Mind’s creation.
In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48), designating perfection to heavenly things, as opposed to material things. Jesus’ concept of perfection is not only attainable, but a God-given right and privilege, inherent in all His creation. When we recognize beauty in spiritual qualities—such as kindness, intelligence, and individuality—we can recognize these qualities in ourselves and others. And this spiritual recognition stabilizes the beauty in our experience, because the real man expresses the Christ, which is “the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever” (Hebrews 13:8).
Through the practice of beholding beauty spiritually, we find the perfection Jesus demanded—and humanity seeks—in the understanding of our spiritual composition. It is the action of God’s children continuing in our Father’s work—acknowledging that everything He made is “very good” (Genesis 1:31). We are learning more about who we truly are, and we are gaining a better understanding of God. Through this practice we are being beautiful. We are beheld in Mind.
With a higher concept of beauty as God’s expression, we actively participate in sustaining the facts of man’s spiritual origin and identity. And man in the image and likeness of God is the ultimate masterpiece—always good, perfect, and beautiful.
