O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee! Oh, Light of my life, I worship thee! Oh, what beautiful luminescence dost thou hold, a beauty beyond comprehension.
I’m reminded of John O’Donahue’s prose here, Rob:
“The beauty that emerges is a beauty infused with feeling; a beauty different from the beauty of landscape and the cold perfect form. This is a beauty that has suffered its way through the ache of desolation until the words or music emerged to equal the hunger and desperation at its heart… Indeed, in every life there is some wound that continues to weep secretly, even after years of attempted healing. Where woundedness can be refined into beauty, a wonderful transfiguration takes place.”
The world has been blessed with a full palate of numinous poets and liturgists who have served up prayers for private and public worship that, other than the scriptures themselves, are unrivaled in depth and beauty. The literary and spiritual contributions they bring to the act of worship offer a certain spiritual denouement and are ever being repackaged for various liturgical situations. I would like to share a particular favorite of mine by T.S. Eliot.
Read it. Read it again. Read it aloud. Read it to someone else. Pray it. I think you’ll see what I mean.
O Light Invisible
Praise and Thanksgiving
O Light Invisible, we praise Thee!
Too bright for mortal vision.
O Greater Light, we praise Thee for the less;
The eastern light our spires touch at morning,
The light that slants upon our western doors at evening,
The twilight over stagnant pools at…
View original post 125 more words