Notre Dame Cathedral along the Seine River, Paris, France.

Photograph by Pierre Blaché via Pexels

At the beautiful door, you sat

At the beautiful heart, you knocked

At the beautiful hill, you rose

At the beautiful mind, you spoke

Teach me to see you and love you better

At the beautiful gate, I stand.

I share with all of you this poem, the first one I wrote in the early hours of 2025. It is inspired by the beauty we may not see, yet about to show its glamour once it has finished being formed and transformed by our Creator, our Lord, our God. It is a poem for all who might have been cast aside, kept in the shadows, hidden from society and yet, they have been sitting at the beautiful door of our hearts waiting to be noticed. This poem is an invitation to break down walls that may exist in our hearts. I have them, we all have them. Can we let our Creator do what needs to be done to tear them down?

The poem takes me back to the biblical story we find in Acts 3:1-8, where Peter and John see, speak with, and raise up a beggar at the beautiful gate of the Temple. The Message version of verse 2 reads “Every day he was set down at the Temple gate, the one named Beautiful, to beg from those going into the Temple.” The King James version reads “And a certain man lame from his mother’s womb was carried, whom they laid daily at the gate of the temple, which is called Beautiful, to ask alms of them that entered into the temple.” The First Nations version reads “Some people were carrying a man who has been unable to walk from his birth. Each day they would lay him down by the entrance to the lodge called the Beautiful Gate, so he could ask for handouts from the ones who were going into the lodge.” Whichever version speaks to your heart, I find it fascinating how the story positions an individual and the needs of a community at a specific gate of a religious institution, yet people, rulers, and commoners pass by.

I wonder what and how many beautiful gates we have walked by and chosen to ignore, closed our eyes to, or forgot to remember. Because if we cannot remember beauty, I wonder how we open our hearts and minds to challenging needs, despair, and all that does not fit within prescriptive societal guidelines. The light and love of Jesus in Peter and John met the light and love of the unnamed individual who had been sitting at the beautiful gate for decades. The Acts account shares that the man had been carried and unable to walk since birth. Were the laments and groans louder that afternoon for him to be heard?

The hour to be raised up had been chosen, and the implementation of God’s plan could not be undone. This was their collective day, for Peter, John, and the one at the gate to be transformed.

This biblical story also takes me to a familiar place, the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris. The physical structure has lived transformation for these past five, nearly six years. Out of the devastating fire in April 2019, majestic beauty now stands. The Cathedral of Notre Dame can represent, for some, the beautiful gate by the river Seine, where people sit, sell, march, and exchange various commodities. Yet a remembrance to a horrible past sits near this beautiful gate, which many pilgrims who head to the Cathedral overlook. The entrance to the Deportation Martyrs Memorial stands with a view of the river Seine. It holds space for all who were captured and deported from this area of Paris to concentration camps. This unique memorial can easily be overlooked. Yet humanity’s stories cannot be forgotten. My heart makes the connection between the biblical story found in the book of Acts and the stories held within the ashes of this religious structure and its surroundings. “At the beautiful heart, you knocked.”

I invite us to open our eyes and the eyes of our hearts not only to humanity’s beauty, but how God gently nudges us every day to be Christ-like in our neighborhoods. May we live Acts 3:6-7 where Peter says: “I have no silver or gold to give to you, but I have a gift for you that is worth much more.” He reached his hand out to the man and said, “I represent the Chosen One, Creator Sets Free” (First Nations version). How can we represent Jesus every day? How can some whose faith instructs them to love their neighbors, to realize that God sits at their sides, to show compassion to the other, choose to deny them basic human resources of shelter, water, and dignity?

I humbly invite people of all nations to have their light of love be the beautiful gate that the world dares to notice and to embrace truths which cannot be ignored. I invite the light of love grounded in what is seen and unseen to cast out ills, deconstruct lies, overcome despair, nurture goodness, build sturdy bridges of peace, and let new breath soar.

May we walk courageously for truths. May we sing peacefully with truths. May we sit graciously held in love at the beautiful gate where we pause, yet we speak. “Oh Beautiful, You Speak!”