The Beauty of God Displayed

In the summer of 1994 public television ran several rebroadcasts of an event that took place in the Los Angeles Coliseum, where the three greatest living tenors were assembled in concert: Carreras, Domingo, and Pavarotti, the incomparable Pavarotti. And when I watched that performance on television, I was literally mesmerized. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a performance of anybody about anything that I so desperately did not want to end as that performance. And when these men were finished with their singing of opera—and I’m virtually ignorant of opera. I’ve never been to an opera in my entire life. I’ve never read the text of an opera. I’ve never read a book about opera. I say that to my own shame and to my own disgrace. But not being an opera buff—I still could not move away from the television screen watching this performance. And I said afterwards to my wife, I said: “These men may not only be the best tenors in the world, they may be the best singers in the world. And not only the best singers in the world, they may be the best musicians in the world.” And, of course, even in that group, Pavarotti stood as the first among equals.

But watching that performance was a spiritual experience for me. I saw something of the grandeur of God in this expression of beauty because wherever there is beauty, wherever beauty is, the excellence of God is borne witness. I don’t mean that every artist or every musician is a Christian or intentionally tries to give glory to God, but they give glory to God in spite of themselves because they’re part of the creation that manifests the eternal power and deity of God.