Beautiful.

A reflection on Acts 3

One day Peter and John were going up to the temple at the time of prayer--at three in the afternoon. Now a man crippled from birth was being carried to the temple gate called Beautiful, where he was put every day to beg from those going into the temple courts. When he saw Peter and John about to enter, he asked them for money. Peter looked straight at him, as did John. Then Peter said, "Look at us!" So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something in return.
Then Peter said, "Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk." Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man's feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. Then he went with them into the temple courts, praising God. When all the people saw him walking and praising God, they recognized him as the same man who used to sit begging at the gate called Beautiful, and they were filled with wonder and amazement at what had happened to him.

Beautiful
I sit at a gate called b\Beautiful
and the women who pass me are Beautiful
and the colors and worship around me are Beautiful
and I know, deep in my heart,
I feel God is Beautiful.

But while the beauty gleams above me
and steps around me
and always seems to flit just beyond my grasp,
I sit on my mat.
And the Beautiful, strong ankles all hurry past my sightline
and I beg for alms
and the palms that they fall from are always
clean and soft and Beautiful.

God gives me everything I need. I know God is Beautiful.
It is I who am Not Beautiful.

I am so covered in sin and shame. My parents or mine I cannot say, but with these mangled, twisted feet I cannot be Beautiful.
So I like to sit as close as I can get.

And then two men,
weary, dirty,
passed by the gate called Beautiful
but they were not Beautiful, not like the
women and Pharisee men.

I saw as their strong, sturdy ankles moved past, tracing around the delicate ankles of the women. And I saw as they stopped in front of me.
I wondered at those ankles
those straight, balanced toes
but my feet would never be as Beautiful as those.

But the man said look at him
and I raised my eyes and hands
because when you're taking charity the two are linked.
But no alms clinked into my palm;
he spoke grace instead.

He grasped and he pulled on all my dead weight until he fell,
stumbling back again as my weight came alive.

What Beautiful ankles!
What strong, sturdy toes!
What feet that bent and rippled in the ways they were meant!

And the Beautiful people
at the Beautiful gate
on a Beautiful day, all marveled.

They whispered of miracles
and hushedly spoke of power and shalom
and the man who tugged at me spoke on about
a Beautiful God and
a Beautiful Son
and in my heart then I knew all along


I was born, not of sin, but of Beauty.


From then on I sat at the Beautiful Gate
and told any listeners of my Beautiful wait.
How I, too, became Beauty
when Beauty lowered himself to me.