Beautiful, Good, & True

How do we present Jesus in our Western Post Christianized world?

We are in the midst of a culture war. Everyone seems to be battling over what is good and what is true. It’s almost as if the quickest way to spark an argument is to assert that you hold the exclusive truth. In such a polarized world, this tension creates a particular challenge for Christians—how do we present Jesus as “the way, the truth, and the life” without alienating those who desperately need Him?

The temptation might be to withdraw, to soften the edges of our message, or even to stop teaching and preaching about Jesus altogether out of respect for our pluralistic society. After all, we’ve all felt that discomfort when we encounter someone on a street corner, shouting about hell and condemnation. Such displays often provoke more hostility than hope, reinforcing the walls people have already built against faith.

But maybe there’s another way. Maybe the most profound form of evangelism today isn’t found in loud declarations of truth amidst a noisy and crowded world. Perhaps the best way to present Jesus is to show Him—in all His beauty.

There is an ancient and timeless phrase: "the Good, the True, and the Beautiful." Often attributed to the philosophy of Plato, this triad encapsulates the essence of a fulfilled life—one that pursues these three pillars of human existence. However, even in ancient thought, goodness, truth, and beauty were often seen as separate virtues, each existing in its own realm. Today, our fragmented culture struggles to reconcile these ideas. Discussions of goodness and truth often feel fraught with division, as if they were subjective or burdensome.

Yet, beauty—beauty remains. It stands apart, untouched by the cultural noise. Beauty does not provoke; it does not demand immediate agreement or incite defensiveness. It whispers where truth might shout and goodness might confront. Beauty invites.

This is why we, as Christians, must reverse the order. Instead of beginning with proclamations of truth or debates about morality, let us begin with beauty. Let us present the radiant, captivating beauty of Jesus to a world that is weary and worn. Beauty has the power to open hearts where arguments might close them. It softens the soul, making room for goodness to take root and for truth to be heard and embraced.

When we center our lives on the beauty of Jesus, we offer an invitation that is not coercive but compelling. His beauty—seen in His love, His grace, His sacrifice—draws people in. It awakens wonder and stirs the deep longings of the human heart. And as hearts are drawn by beauty, they will encounter the goodness of God—a goodness that heals, restores, and transforms. In that goodness, they will find the unshakable truth of who He is.

So let us live lives that reflect His beauty. Let our words, our actions, and our relationships be shaped by the beauty of the One we follow. In doing so, we extend a quiet but powerful invitation to a life that is not only beautiful but deeply good and profoundly true. And perhaps, in the midst of this culture war, it is this quiet beauty that will shine the brightest, drawing others not to an argument but to the Savior Himself.