There’s a scene from Walt Disney’s Beauty and the Beast that causes a lump to form in my throat every time I see it. Tough but tender heroine Belle is dancing through an empty ballroom with the ugly, hulking beast, and she’s smiling up into his hideous face, her ingénue eyes aglow.

It’s one of those perfect moments where love creeps in against all odds, and insists on staying put. Where beauty is utterly and completely in the eye of the beholder, and not about to budge.

Apparently the appeal of that particular movie moment has nothing to do with age. I took my two nieces to see the film when they were seven and eleven, and on the way home asked them which part they liked most. Seven year old Victoria answered from the back seat without hesitation: “Oh, Aunt Leigh – I loved it when she danced with him and he was still the beast.”

I very nearly wept again.

Beauty and the Beast really is a tale as old as time. And the oldest, truest version of it goes something like this: “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:6-8)

Who doesn’t want to be loved when they’re hopelessly unlovely? Who doesn’t hope for a savior who sees them at their very worst and steadfastly refuses to be repulsed?

Belle loved the Beast before there was even an inkling of the prince he might become. And when she did, he became something altogether beautiful. Not before.

Not only did Christ love me when I was – by His righteous standards – quite unlovely, He loved me enough to die for me so that I could become – again by His standards – altogether beautiful.

Just thinking of it makes me feel like waltzing to a song as old as rhyme…held fast by the One who romanced and then rescued me with His strong, pursuing love.

© Leigh McLeroy 2002