I have a tree in my front yard that, for one day each fall, is brilliant with orange leaves—and then they all fall off at the same time. I walked out on my porch yesterday morning to go to work, and yesterday was the day. It was chilly and bright. The sun had just come up and was shining through those leaves, making them radiate and glow. I grabbed my phone and took a photo. It was so beautiful I had to stop and take it in for a minute or two, and as I stood there, people doing their morning walks stopped for a minute to talk about how beautiful it was, too.
There’s a famous Russian author named Dostoevsky who has a character who says, “Beauty will save the world.” Beauty will save the world…This character is thought by most everyone to be naïve and foolish, and the title of the book is The Idiot. It does seem like a silly thing to say—there are many important problems in the world, like poverty, injustice, hunger, homelessness, division between people who are neighbors, war…how could beauty possibly fix any of them?
Philosophers and poets have, since they first began writing things down, talked about truth, and goodness, and beauty. They have been called the “three transcendentals” – meaning they are the things that go above and beyond everything else. My tree yesterday made me wonder if possibly those smart people have been wrong all these centuries, and maybe Dostoevsky’s foolish person is actually right.
Certainly, truth, and being truthful, is very important. Almost nothing in our society would work if we didn’t tell the truth to each other. And we rely on the truth of mathematics and science all the time. But even so, in today’s world, the fundamental truths are something people seem to be arguing about. We live in a time when facts, seen through different lenses, can divide us as much as they give us answers. People argue about what is true based on politics, culture, religion, and their own lived experiences. Truth is powerful and important—but it can be polarizing.
Being good is also equally important. Society is held together because we are law-abiding citizens. But especially right now, it seems that what is good can divide us, too. What one person considers good, another person says is hurtful. Disagreements about what is good and what is bad seem to be just as polarizing as disagreements about what is true and what is false.
So today I want us to think about that third transcendental, beauty—beauty in a “big picture” sense, not in the sense of someone you might think is pretty—that kind of beauty is just as culturally based and personal as some of the arguments about the true and the good.
Profound beauty, more than anything else, has the power to take us out of ourselves—of the three, I think it actually does have the ability to be transcendent—to go above and beyond, to lift us out of ourselves and connect us to something bigger, and to connect us to each other, too. That’s one of the ways beauty can save the world—reminding us of our shared humanity and giving us hope.
You don’t need to share someone’s beliefs for both of you to be moved by the beautiful tree in my yard on its one, magical day of the year—or by an amazing work of art—or by the ocean—or by the Grand Canyon—or by a song that makes you cry or laugh. Real beauty speaks to our hearts more than it does our minds, and it invites connection and awe and admiration and wonder without asking for an argument.
My neighbors brought home a new chocolate labrador puppy, Willow, on Sunday. Willow is another example of the way that beauty can save the world. Every couple of hours they take Willow out to the front yard for ten minutes so he can learn to pee outside—and every person who walks by—regardless of how they voted, regardless of their faith or no faith, regardless of anything that might divide them from my neighbors—every person who walks by stops. Every person stops to see Willow, to pet Willow, and to talk. Real beauty speaks to our hearts more than it does our minds, and it invites connection and awe and admiration and wonder without asking for an argument.
If you went to any of Taylor Swift’s concerts or if you’ve seen any of her concert videos, you’ve seen how powerful and beautiful music—how her sharing from her heart—can bring together people—some concerts had more than 100,000 people, and in total more than twelve million people across the world saw the Eras concerts. The beauty of Taylor Swift sharing her story with her music brought together these millions. World-wide, hundreds of millions find shared experience and joy in listening to her music. I went to one of the concerts in Kansas City—I, and 70,000 other people. And you know what? Everyone was kind—in the lines for merch, in the lines for the bathrooms, singing together in the stands, in the insane traffic afterwards…everyone was kind in a way I have never seen a group of 70,000 people all be kind to each other before.
At this point, the more cynical of you might be rolling your eyes and saying to yourselves, “Really, Fr. Keith? Fall leaves, and a puppy, and Swifties!” “Put that sentimental fluff on a Hallmark card, the real world is different…the real world is difficult…the real world is darker.” And my answer to that is, “Yes…but…”
Yes, there is darkness—but there is also light, and we can be mirrors that reflect it. We can even be concave mirrors that focus the light like the mirrors in headlights. The beauty of nature, with music, and with the tenderness of a puppy, that simple kind of beauty has power that nothing else does to create shared experiences. When we recognize beauty together, we build bridges of connection. Beauty can also inspire us to act. Think of that image of Earth taken from space in 1972. That photograph, showing our planet as a fragile, beautiful blue marble, has inspired countless environmental movements. The beauty of nature doesn’t just make us pause and reflect; it calls us to cherish and protect it.
In the same way, beauty in human relationships—acts of kindness, moments of gentle grace—can inspire us to care for one another. Beauty is not limited to what we can see or hear; it is also found in what we do. When we help someone in need, when we show compassion to a stranger, when we stand up for justice, we are creating beauty in the world. These acts of kindness have a ripple effect, spreading beauty and goodness to others far and wide. Just like my tree or Willow the puppy, actions like these inspire others to act with kindness and compassion, creating a chain reaction of positive change—focusing us. In a world that often feels harsh and unforgiving, the simple beauty of kindness is a powerful force for good.
And beauty heals. In times of loss or hardship, people often turn to music, poetry, or nature for comfort. A single beautiful moment can remind us that life, despite the challenges and grief it sometimes brings, is worth living. We underestimate beauty; but when we take it seriously—when we let it into our lives—it can mend our broken spirits.
The reading in Chapel today (Psalm 19:1-4) tells us that beauty is a universal language. The heavens don’t need words to declare God’s glory; their beauty speaks for itself. Dostoevsky’s statement, “Beauty will save the world,” is not just a romantic ideal—it’s a challenge. It invites us to recognize beauty, to create it, and to let it inspire us to care for one another and the world we share. Similarly, we don’t need to agree on everything to stand together in celebration of something beautiful.
So, as you leave today, my prayer for you is to take that challenge with you. In today’s world, truth and goodness are often subjects of intense debate and division. In this divided world, let beauty be a source for reconnection. Let’s look for beauty, create beauty, and allow it to draw us together. In doing so, we will take one step in saving the world. Whether it’s through art, writing, music, or simply by being kind to others, each of us has the power to add beauty to the world. What beauty will you bring?
- Fr. Keith Winton, School Chaplain
