The Tempest and The Bloom

How a modern myth about beauty, healing, and identity can fill your reading world with adventure and wonder

What if Beauty was a person? Would it be a woman or a man?

What if you could talk to Beauty? What would you say?

What if Beauty watched you along your journey of life? What would she or he see? A life of rushing about, anxious thoughts and notions? A transactional way of living? Or, a life sipping the goodness of each moment, gathering loved ones close, connected to the natural wonder of the created order?

What if there was a hidden world where Beauty once lived—a place that was the source of her or his strength?

Wouldn’t you want to know where this world was? Wouldn’t you want to find it?

Some people like to argue against Beauty. Did you know that?

“Beauty is a luxury we cannot afford in a world of pain and hurt,” they argue.

“Beauty has no real value in this world of ours. You need to pursue things that matter; things of true value; things that make you money.” (A person once argued this point with me at a fall bonfire once—I’m not kidding.)

Some time ago, these questions and arguments spun a web in my brain. For months I pondered them. Then, one Saturday, when I woke from an afternoon nap, I saw something.

Not something in my bedroom or outside the window. Something in my mind’s eye.

I saw a young girl running through a dark wood. It was cold and muddy in the forest. And she was being chased. By whom or what, I didn’t know. She looked weak but not scared. Desperate but not lost.

Then, I heard a shot echo through the wood and the girl fell. That’s when I saw her pursuer.

A Story of Adventure and Wonder

The vision troubled me.

It wasn’t real, I kept telling myself.

But my imagination would not rest. I imagined myself a researcher working on the project of discovering who this young lady was and who or what was pursuing her.

And then, one day, I found myself at a local cafe and the vision took off. My imagination flared up like someone had poured gas on a bonfire. I found myself thrust into the story as if it was happening to me. That’s when I met Will Taylor.

What follows you might describe as the contours of those imaginative flames—a story of adventure and wonder.

Fair Warning

This is your last chance to turn back.

This “Fair Warning” subheading acts as your signpost; where the real gives way to the imagined. Afters this subheading marker, fact and fiction get blurred. And, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you decide between the two.

But that’s the fun of it, right? You’ll just have to think of it as a gateway into the adventure.

Tomorrow, you’ll receive another email. In it, I’ll introduce you to my friend Will Taylor. Whenever we’re together, we get, “Hey are you guys twins?” a lot. But we’re not. He’s just a kindred spirit with a secret you will not believe.

A Disclaimer for the Curious

“Eh but Tim,” you say, “what’s going on here? Are you not going to be filling my inbox with buttery thoughts about culture, beauty, faith, and God?”

“Ah yes,” I reply. “A fair question! During these late fall and winter months, I’ve decided to issue a new edit of a story I worked on when the pandemic first hit. It was left unfinished for very boring and tedious reasons. But that’s about to change. And yes, you will still receive weekly posts on the aforementioned subjects. You can count on that. After all, we’re creating a cultural rebellion of Beauty Chasing rabble-rousers, right?

“You’ll notice that I’ve added a new “tab” or “section” to this newsletter called: “Tempest.” Think of it like a new category to the newsletter.

“Ah yes,” you say, “I see that. And it makes perfect sense. But what of this story or myth you speak about? Are you seeking to publish it into a real book? I mean, I know several people who’d want to follow along. But in the end, we all just want to hold books in our hands!”

“I agree,” I exclaim. “For the time being, this story will just live in this newsletter form. You’ll receive it as a serial novel—those used to be popular back in the olden days. If I can’t find a traditional publisher for it, then I will Kickstart it and publish it myself for all who become paid members to this here newsletter. How does that sound?”

This myth-story has a history.

I was working with an editor who suggested I write a myth about beauty.

“What if you wrote about beauty as if it were a person—like a modern day myth,” she said.

“Yes,” I replied. “What if …”

Well, of course, the myth turned into a full-blown novel but, sadly, the editor moved on to other projects and my novel was shelved. When COVID began in March of 2020, I created a Substack newsletter just for the myth, which I titled, The Tempest and The Bloom. I took advantage of the pandemic and gave the myth a brand new edit as I posted it. But I never finished the edit!

Now, it has returned for your reading enjoyment (at least, I hope it brings you enjoyment!). For the time being, like all of my posts on Further Up, it will be free of charge. Later on, as the story unfolds, you will have the opportunity to finish the entire myth by moving to “Paid Subscriber.”

The full myth (novel) will be one of the bonus features for the rabble-rousers otherwise known as “The Paid Crew.” (As you’ve guessed, I have several terms of endearment for this band of Beauty Rebels—let me know if you come up with one you like.) Don’t worry, I will post plenty of the myth for you to get a good taste of it.

“Eh, but Tim” you say, “who is the myth for, really? I mean, what if I’m not a fan of fiction or speculative fiction?”

“Ah yes,” I reply. “Indeed! Even though I think stories are for everyone, I can see how this myth might be tailored for a specific audience. If you’ve no interest in the myth, then, by all means, forward it on to any of the following folks.”

1. Teenagers who enjoy speculative fiction, science fiction, or fantasy fiction. And remember, the world of “fantasy” these days covers a wide range of books; from Harry Potter to the Hunger Games to Lord of the Rings. This story will be appropriate for teens ages 14 and up.

2. Any adult who might enjoy shows similar to Outlander, Westworld, or Discovery of Witches. I am of course not endorsing these shows, merely trying to find good analogs for this myth. Another good analog in the book world might be The Bear and The Nightingale.

3. Curious readers who enjoy a story that is set in present day but collides with an alternate world.

I’m offering the deepest discount of the year for the newsletter for a limited time (December 4th!). It’s the perfect time to gift a subscription to a friend or get a group subscription for your small group, homeschool co-op, or your Berry Picking Club (I just made that last one up.) This myth-novel offering is just one of the perks I’m working on for the Paid Crew. Stay tuned for more.

A Concluding Theological Postscript

The twenty-first century feels like a land liberated from the perceived shackles of the Christian religion. And it seems like all we care to do as Christians is to offer reasoned arguments for why Christianity should be taken seriously or why we belong at the table of culture.

The Christian publishing world is awash with books about apologetics, or books that will train you to defend the Christian faith through reasoned arguments, to be a better apologist, to have a better grasp of the common philosophical and theological arguments and objections and the best answers to those objections.

But there’s another way to bear witness to God in our secular age.

An argument seldom convinces unbelievers to change their minds.

Beauty, on the other hand, works on a different plain. It steals behind the “watchful dragons,” as C.S. Lewis liked to say, and works on their emotions, convincing their heart.

I’m reminded of Alister McGrath’s helpful insight:

“Beauty by-passes rational analysis, appealing to something far deeper within us.”¹

McGrath was summarizing C.S. Lewis’s notion that beauty can disarm the gatekeepers of our rational minds and speak directly to a person’s heart. And by heart I don’t mean a wishy-washy emotional clump of sentiment hidden within our minds. I mean the seat of our intellect.

Lewis and McGrath aren’t just offering empty platitudes. The sights and sounds of the world, the work of an artist does not only affect our thoughts and emotions within but can expand and even open up new pathways of cognitive function.

Beauty works on us like a gardener works the soil; she cultivates it into a lifegiving source. A mind awake to the beautiful not only finds nourishment but nourishes the world.

In the twentieth century, C.S Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, Dorothy Sayers, Charles Williams, and T.S. Eliot,² emerged as literary apologists or imaginative apologists or apologists of the beautiful.

Cardinal Avery Dulles, in his book A History of Apologetics, says that Lewis’s work especially maintains its freshness and vitality today, more than a half-century later, “while massive tomes of previous centuries gather dust on library shelves.”³

The imaginative apologist’s approach began from the standpoint of basic Christianity, or mere Christianity, and engaged with readers in such a way as to make Christianity not only seem reasonable, but attractive.

Dulles refers to Lewis as a “brilliant stylist” who “reached a vast number of readers who would not have found time for technical theological works.”⁴ Lewis’s imaginative approach to apologetics remains unique in its production and unrivaled in its contemporary popularity.

Why am I saying all this about apologetics or, more accurately, imaginative apologetics? Because our work as Christians is first, to worship God and second, to tell the world about the Good News of Jesus Christ. The season of Advent is upon us. Everyone will be telling the story of the Incarnation—and rightly so!

But, providing the world with an attractive testimony for the hope that is within us is the third aspect of our work as Christians. One of the reasons I wrote this myth was to imagine what Beauty incarnate might be like. I wrote it to give readers entertainment, yes. But to infuse their—your!—imaginations with the wonder and hope that is within me. And I hope that comes out in the reading.

But you too can give an expression for the hope that is within you. It doesn’t have to be a novel or myth or painting or musical composition or a ballet. It can be an act of kindness to your neighbor. It can be a perfectly planned meal for new friends. It can be everyday kindness to the people you encounter in your community.

As you read along with the story, be thinking of who you might share it with. Maybe you have good friends who need some hope in their lives who like this kind of storytelling. And, for yourself, consider these thoughts for further reflection.

Thoughts for Reflection

1. We live in a world in which Truth falls under attack daily. The battle cry right now is for “Truth!” But what if, in our pursuit of Truth, we elevated the Beautiful in our lives? Not just beautiful things or beautiful experiences, but God himself as Beauty—the Fountainhead of Beauty. How does re-focusing our minds and hearts on God, help us live out Truth for all the world to see?

2. Make a list of five people you can send this newsletter to—people who might enjoy the story I’ll be posting on a weekly basis. How can you be God’s hands and feet to them this holiday season. How can you spread Beauty in a way that will nourish their lives?

3. Take a break from all the Advent “liturgies” this year. (Tim—how dare you!:) No really, do it. What would it look like for your to read the Gospel of John from Thanksgiving to Christmas? What might it be like to take a deep dive into the scripture itself and study the context of the Incarnation?

Further Reading

In his book Miracles, C.S. Lewis has one of the best chapters I’ve ever read on the Incarnation. It’s titled, “The Grand Miracle.” Take some time to read that chapter this holiday season. I’m certain it will bless you.

1. Alister E. McGrath, Mere Apologetics: How to Help Seekers and Skeptics Find Faith (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Books, 2011), 115. See also Michael Ward’s excellent essay, “The Good Serves the Better and Both the Rest,” in Andrew Davison, Imaginative Apologetics: Theology, Philosophy and the Catholic Tradition (London: SCM Press, 2011), in which he also states that though imagination and reason work together, the imagination engages with reality in a way that reason does not.

2. Avery Dulles, A History of apologetcs, 318.

3. Ibid., 324.

4. Ibid., 319.