Beauty is not merely an ornament placed upon religion, as one might put flowers upon a table; it can be a signpost pointing beyond itself. A beautiful thing awakens in us a longing that no earthly object quite satisfies, as though the world were whispering that its loveliness comes from somewhere deeper. This is one reason Catholicism can appear so profoundly beautiful: in its churches, its music, its art, its liturgy, its sacramental imagination, and its reverence for the created world, it refuses to divide the visible from the invisible. The candle, the stained glass, the incense, the chant—all can become reminders that creation is not God, but is capable of bearing His glory. Catholic beauty at its best does not ask us merely to admire beautiful things; it teaches us to look through them, until the beauty of creation awakens our hunger for the Beauty who made it.