Prose: The Age of False Advertising


Often when I see the sky, a really piercingly beautiful sky, I think to myself that such a scene belongs in a painting. I find this very telling about the human nature, or perhaps only my nature. When I see something too beautiful to describe, my mind can only process it as being fake or synthetic. A copy, even. Surely not the prototype. Reality is ugly, so anything I perceive to be beautiful is often mistaken to be a charade. It’s the cause for much of the failings of my faith. To think of a G-d so beautiful, so loving, so merciful and giving, to behold him in the framework of my mind even for a second brings me to the logical conclusion that He is not real, and loveliness on such a grand scale is not possible.

But the G-d who created the stars and the skies, every sunset and every natural landscape is a G-d whose beauty surpasses all of these things. I believe that.

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