Tag: beauty

4 min read

Reflections / Devotionals

On Superheroes

Rhett Warner

January 16, 2026 4:04 am January 16, 2026

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4 min read

Spare our Lord Jesus Christ, I sometimes believe that there are no real superheroes, that there is not one benevolent person who possesses superhuman powers. Despite sometimes not believing in…

Spare our Lord Jesus Christ, I sometimes believe that there are no real superheroes, that there is not one benevolent person who possesses superhuman powers. Despite sometimes not believing in them, I am uplifted by fictitious stories of superheroes. Amidst chaos, a little boy closes his eyes and says, “Superman,” and the enthused faith with which he anticipates the hero’s coming is as sure as the noon sun on a clear day.

Contemporary man, I think, believes superheroes are fiction, where fictions lack concrete existence. To be sure, there is a sense in which he should. Clark Kent qua person does not exist; there is no person who is Clark Kent. Nevertheless, the fascination with which man entertains fictitious superheroes is not unusual, for he was designed to delight in superheroes. It is a natural inclination of man to take satisfaction in characters who make the ordinary unfamiliar and surprising. Superheroes excite and imbue the imagination with wonder and hope.

Yet the Creator’s intention, I think, was not that I should satisfy my desire for superheroes with merely fictitious narratives. Primarily satisfying the yearning for superheroes through fiction is, in many respects, primarily delighting in novelties, characters with no concrete correspondence to reality. When contemporary man satisfies himself in this way, the fictitious superheroes largely replace the reality of God’s blessings to man. Fictitious superheroes are for the a-religious what the saints of God are to the Christian. A cursory glance at hagiographical and Scriptural texts attests to parallels between fictional superheroes and saints:

By God’s blessing, St. Scholastica caused a storm to erupt, ensuring she could spend more time with her brother (Abbey, 239). St. Padre Pio could multiply locate (bilocate) his physical body (Mróz, 135). St. Saraphim of Sarov befriended a bear who placidly fetched him honey (Cavarnos and Zeldin, 65). St. Clare of Assisi struck terror into the hearts of advancing Roman soldiers simply by raising a pyx (Abbey, 64). Mary, the Mother of God, caused the sun to sway in the sky (Dalleur). St. Joseph of Cupertino levitated before astonished parishioners (Herbermann, 520). St. Elijah the Prophet caused fire to descend from the heavens (1 Kings 18:38). St. Michael the Archangel banished Satan from Paradise in a flash of lightning (Luke 10:18).

Throughout history, there have been thousands of saints whose lives demonstrate benevolence and superhuman powers. Despite this astounding fact, it is more common for children to want to be like Spider-Man than any one of these. This should perturb any Christian. The reality is that Spider-Man doesn’t exist, and many children are unaware of God’s blessings to man because of their parents’ ignorance or negligence, and because of society’s fictional infatuations. Contemporary man, I think, falsely infers the non-existence of real superheroes from the fact of the non-existence of fictitious superheroes: Superman, Captain America, Batman, the Hulk, etc., don’t exist. Therefore, superheroes don’t exist. This inference is partly due to a lack of knowledge or interest concerning the lives of the saints, the highest constituents of God’s heavenly city–the real superheroes.

Let not your attention nor desire for the wonderful be consumed by these pseudo-religious films depicting fictional superheroes. I don’t claim there’s something wrong per se with taking delight in novelties, but there is something wrong with delighting in them more frequently than in our beloved saints. Mary Oliver has a similar reflection when wading through the beauty of God’s creation: “Something is wrong, I know it, if I don’t keep my attention on eternity…May I forever stay in the stream (7).” Even if there is nothing wrong with delighting in novelties per se, they should always, nevertheless, be understood in light of reality. But I’m afraid that contemporary man is more familiar with fictional tales than with the reality of God’s providence. For that reason (among many others), together with his faulty inference, contemporary man, I think, believes superheroes are fiction.

Possible Discussion Questions

Would delighting in any fictional story entail delighting in a novelty, a fad for reality? What if what one finds delightful in a “novelty” are the symbols with which the fictional story allegorizes reality? Is delighting in allegories equivalent to delighting in fads? Is it bad to know more about Gandalf than the “highest constituents” of God’s heavenly city? Are fictional tales and God’s providence mutually exclusive?

Bibliography

Cavarnos, Constantine and Zeldin, Mary-Barbara. Modern Orthodox Saints, St Seraphim of Sarov, 10 vols. The Institute for Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, 2001.
Dalleur, Philippe. “Fatima Pictures and Testimonials: in-depth Analysis.” Scientia et Fides 9, no. 1 (2021): 9-45.
Herbermann, Charles et al. The Catholic Encyclopedia, vol. 8, 15 vols. The Encyclopedia Press. 1915.
Mróz, Franciszek. “On the Footprings of Saint Padre Pio of Pietrelcina.” Peregrinus Cracoviensis 13. (2002): 135-157.
Oliver, Mary. Upstream: Selected Essays. Penguin Books, 2016.
St. Augustine’s Abbey, The Book of Saints. A&C Black, 1921.

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5 min read

Reflections / Devotionals

The Art of Mary Cassatt: More than Meets the Eye

LeAnne Martin

July 24, 2019 9:14 pm July 24, 2019

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5 min read

The woman sits with her arm draped over the back of the chair, the golden threads in the sleeves of her dress shimmering underneath a swath of white tulle. The…

The woman sits with her arm draped over the back of the chair, the golden threads in the sleeves of her dress shimmering underneath a swath of white tulle. The front of her dress is white and blue with a matching flower pinned to the bodice. Standing beside her is a little girl in orange with a bow in her short, blond hair. They are both holding and looking intently at the book in their hands. It’s as though we are sitting in a chair a few feet away, but they have forgotten we are here.

The painting is entitled “The Reading Lesson” by American Impressionist Mary Cassatt. I saw it and took this photo at the Dallas Museum of Art in June 2018. My husband had been on a business trip in Dallas that week, and I’d joined him for the weekend. We spent several hours exploring the museum.

Ever since my college art appreciation class, Mary Cassatt (1844-1926) has been one of my favorite artists. Not only was she one of just three women who exhibited with French Impressionists like Degas and Monet, she was also the only American.

Her paintings often depict intimate scenes from domestic life, showing women seated with and caring for children. Cassatt’s gift of painting lent not only an air of beauty to the scenes she painted but also an air of dignity. That an artist of her caliber would paint the seemingly mundane, ordinary dailiness of home life and raising children elevated those activities in the minds of viewers.

It gave women an opportunity to see themselves and their lives in her art, something perhaps they hadn’t had before. It infused the moments of motherhood with a beauty that is often hard to appreciate when you’re in the middle of them.

Moments with Mary

Years ago, when I was pregnant, a friend gave me a gift that I treasured: A Child’s Book of Lullabies, With Paintings by Mary Cassatt. It’s a tall, thin book with songs like “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” and “Rock-A-Bye, Baby” and paintings on every spread. The art shows mothers with babies and toddlers, feeding, bathing, and holding and cuddling them.

Three years later, between loads of laundry, I would sit on the floor of my little girl’s bedroom and pull out the book. She would stop playing, climb in my lap, and listen. I would show her the paintings, sing the songs, and talk about them with her.

As a newly-divorced single mom, my primary focus was my little girl, and I was profoundly grateful to God for her. Having her helped ground me, shift my focus to someone else (her), and remind me that Jesus would bring beauty out of pain. He gave me the vision to see that those moments with her held meaning that I might have missed otherwise.

The Stuff of Life

Did every minute with my daughter shine like a precious jewel? Not at all. I was often impatient, cranky, tired, stressed, and overwhelmed. When the laundry piled up and the dogs barked incessantly, when it was time to make dinner and one of us was having a meltdown, I wasn’t thinking about meaningful moments. I was just thinking about making it to bedtime—hers and mine.

There were other days that seemed long and monotonous, when the clock ticked slowly, our routine was too routine, and the lullabies worked better on me than her.

Most of us tend to think that daily life is boring and ordinary. We can be lulled to sleep by a sense of the dullness of routine. For you, it might be the commute to work, the weekly staff meeting, emails you have to return, errands to run. For me, it’s work and email, cooking and grocery shopping.

These are the things that make up daily life, though, and if we aren’t careful, we can drift along without noticing that life is passing by.

Longing for More

In a fast-paced, fractured world, we long for moments of meaning. Art can remind us to look for them, by showing that something as simple as a reading lesson can be loaded with beauty.

When we recognize those special moments, we sense a transcendent, timeless quality that we don’t want to end. We can’t hold onto them, but we can be sure that God is there with us—when the mundane becomes meaningful and the ordinary, extraordinary.

Freelance writer and speaker LeAnne Martin looks for the beauty around us and encourages others to do the same. Through her words and pictures, she shares glimpses of beauty in nature, the arts, and the unexpected on her blog, Glimsen. Sign up to receive her weekly posts, and you’ll get a free gift of beauty in your inbox. You can also connect with LeAnne on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. LeAnne lives with her husband in a wooded neighborhood outside Atlanta and looks forward to her next FaceTime with her daughter in college.

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5 min read

Reflections / Devotionals

Seeking Beauty

LeAnne Martin

June 27, 2019 10:11 pm June 27, 2019

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5 min read

“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty…

“We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” C. S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory

A Saturday night in the middle of summer, and I was at home working upstairs. My little girl was with her dad, so it was just me and my two Labs. My desk showed evidence of an impending article deadline: pages of research, paper clips, several uncapped pens, and a glass of water that needed refilling.

My office windows faced the street, and from my desk chair, I had a great view of the sky. As I paused to come up with just the right word, I looked out the window. And I saw the beginnings of a masterpiece.

Grabbing my sandals, I ran down the stairs, rousing the dogs from their pre-bedtime nap, and flew out the front door. Cutting across the yard, I kept my eyes trained on the sky as the pinks and oranges gradually grew more vivid. Excited, I looked around to see if any of my neighbors were outside too, but I was the only one watching the wonder unfold. It was a gift for me.

Glancing down at my arms, I was surprised by what I saw: the light from the beauty above had covered me in pink. It was like being in a waterfall with no water, only color.

And in that moment, I worshipped—not the sky or the sunset but the one who created them. God’s presence with me under his handiwork brought me great comfort, and the beauty filled me with both joy and a longing for more.

Awake, My Soul

That sunset is one of the highlights of a difficult time in my life. My marriage had ended, and I was now a single mom of a preschooler. During those dark days, God used many things to bring me light, starting with himself and scripture. In addition, my daughter filled my days with life, laughter, and fun. Family and friends stepped in and loved me with words and actions. My dogs adored us and protected us by barking at every visitor with great enthusiasm.

During that time, I read a book entitled Awake My Soul by Timothy Jones. I realized that in the years before the divorce, I’d been lulled into drifting through life, especially as a new mom, moving from one thing to the next and just looking forward to a whole night’s sleep.

It took the shock of my life turning upside down to be reawakened, to be reminded of what I already knew as a follower of Jesus: that there is more to this life than what we see. Life is filled with meaning and purpose, and our longing for these and other things like beauty, goodness, and truth, find their fulfillment in him.

So I asked an artist friend to climb a ladder up to the ceiling in my room and paint the words “Awake, my soul” over my bed. Every morning when I opened my eyes, I’d see that spiritual reminder to help me guard against being lulled to sleep again.

Wide-Eyed

As I woke again to God’s goodness and presence in my life and began to heal, the sun came out. I began to see and respond to the beauty around me, starting with my neighbor’s crabapple tree and the bright yellow jessamine vine climbing on my mailbox.

I sought out beauty in art museums, the symphony, and the theater. Books like C. S. Lewis’ Surprised by Joy and The Weight of Glory and Ken Gire’s Windows of the Soul affirmed and spurred me on.

A few years later, I met a man who also appreciated beauty, art, theater, the symphony, and C. S. Lewis. Most important, he loved Jesus, and he loved my daughter and me. We married a year later.

I’ve been writing about beauty now for years, most recently on my blog at glimsen.net, where I share glimpses of the beauty around us in nature, the arts, and the unexpected. When I tell people about my blog, most of them look puzzled. Why beauty?

And I think about that summer night when a sunset covered me in beauty … and I begin to tell them.

Freelance writer, speaker, and blogger LeAnne Martin looks for the beauty around us and encourages others to do the same. Through her words and pictures, she shares glimpses of beauty in nature, the arts, and the unexpected on her blog, Glimsen. Sign up to receive her weekly posts, and you’ll get a free gift of beauty in your inbox. You can also connect with LeAnne on Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest. LeAnne lives with her husband in a wooded neighborhood outside Atlanta and looks forward to her next FaceTime with her daughter in college.

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