What began as a scene perfectly ripe for adventure would become totally transformed by a single moment.  Loosely fastened inside the auspices of a safari vehicle exiting the Serengeti National Park, I had just witnessed the annual migration of wildlife indigenous to the African plains.  The measure of my enthusiasm with respect to the number of new species I had seen over the last hours could only be matched by the amount of dust being churned from the parched road underneath.  Now, with a full day of animal exploration past and the fading sights of a boundless landscape, a race against time was about to unfold. 

        The impending nightfall meant that securing habitable shelter was of utmost importance.  With vague directions in hand and an indispensable guide in toe, my travel companions and I set out for what we hoped to call home, at least for a night.  After a short jaunt, our driver’s pace slowed.  I looked up to what should have been the departure point leading to our quaint bungalow and my jaw dropped in disbelief.  If the road behind could be categorized as ill-marked, the one that lay before us was altogether non-existent.  Any sign of an etched-out path had been washed away by the first downpour of the encroaching rainy season.  Continuing onward entailed a dubious outcome in light of the rugged terrain laced with luring mud traps.  But following some group deliberation and consideration of our waning options, the truck plunged ahead.

        Instead of the sinking dread which perhaps should have been mine in the face of such a predicament, I felt a surge of excitement.  As the engine revved and we slowly made gains, it became apparent that the skill of our driver along with the four-wheel drive suspension was a capable match for our terrain challenges.  Rounding the last bend and arriving at our destination, the traveling entourage jumped from the car feeling rather victorious.  I expected something of a cheering, high-five response to ensue from our successful journey, but what happened instead caught me totally by surprise. 

        Now perched on the vast shore of Lake Victoria, I, along with those with me, became enthralled by the wooing beauty of a spectacular sunset.  Completely forgetting our surroundings, we instinctively dropped our bags and began a quick-paced stride onto a grassy plateau overlooking one of the most magnificent displays of color that we had ever seen.  Our driver and guide, somewhat befuddled by our actions, turned from the still-running car and followed us with a pace that was equal to our own.  Looking first at us and then to the rosy hued sky, he broke a smile and a look of pleasure replaced the furrowed brow of confusion.  “Bugunga, isn’t it beautiful?” one of us asked.  “Yes,” he responded.  “In Africa we don’t take time for things such as these,” he said, “but we should, we should…” 

        Bugunga’s words struck me with a weight of profundity.  If there is a country where a failure to appreciate the aesthetic could be warranted, it might be that Africa is the place.  In a land where an entire day may be absorbed with tasks such as obtaining clean water or traveling to market, there is little time for seemingly nonessentials.  But here was an African native professing the need for him and his fellow countrymen to make room for the beautiful.  Bugunga’s exhortation, profound indeed, finds application far beyond his own confines; it is fitting for all regardless of creed or situation. 

        If many living in the country of my African friend have ignored beauty while fixing their gaze upon the necessities of daily living, countless in the developed world have erred by redefining beauty on their own terms.  Their rendering of beauty has been stripped of religious undertones and abandoned to a commodified state.  Against such altered norms, numerous figures, both old and new, have sought to  regain attention concerning the aesthetic.  Hans von Balthasar, drawing from Socrates in the 5^th Century BC, has positioned beauty alongside the good and the true, reestablishing a well-acquainted triad.  Von Balthasar views God as supreme Beauty who has revealed himself and become visible in the Person of His Son, Jesus Christ.  He says, “Before the beautiful---no, not really before but within the beautiful---the whole person quivers.  He not only ‘finds’ the beautiful moving; rather he experiences himself as being moved and possessed by it.”[1]  Von Balthasar, within his works,  leaves one with an understanding of where, among a myriad of other options, authentic beauty is to be found.

        If von Balthasar offers a norm for beauty, it is the works of Flannery O’Connor which decommodify beauty by drawing the reader to the grandeur of the Creator.  In writings such as Wise Blood, she undoes the material handiwork of humanity, pointing instead to what is profoundly real in the sky above, and thus to God.   This and other writings, such as her short story Revelation, center around or culminate with images of creation.  Psalm 19 conveys well this theme which recurs: “The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands...”.  The beauty of all that has been made by Him, not man, is meant to draw one to the true reality found in the fulfillment of an eschatological destiny, not only for creation, but also for those in Christ (Romans 8:22-25).

        Discussion of beauty as a bridge to the Divine would be incomplete without brief mention of authors such as C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien.  It is individuals such as these who draw upon imagination (without neglect of reason) in order to take the reader to places not served by other means.  Theirs are stories to often aesthetically pleasing worlds where beavers talk, quests to middle earth are ventured and children and hobbits rule the day.  These fantasies, like my stunning sunset, can imprint a sense of beauty upon the soul and illicit a pursuing longing for the Source of all that is stirred by such adventures.  And though for now, as Lewis says, “we cannot mingle with the splendors we see…the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumor that it will not always be so.  Some day, God willing, we shall get in.”[2]