“Be Thou my Vision” by the Rev’d Dr Hugh Kempster

This is an article based on a Quiet Day led by the Revd Dr Hugh Kempster at the Community of the Holy Name in March of this year.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,

Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;

I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;

Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;

Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;

Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;

Thou my soul’s Shelter, Thou my high Tower:

Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man’s empty praise,

Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:

Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,

High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,

May I reach Heaven’s joys, O bright Heaven’s Sun!

Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,

Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Eochaid “Dallán” Forgaill (c. 600)

translated & versified by Mary Byrne (1880-1931)

Eochaid Forgaill, later known as St Dallán, was an early Christian Irish poet, whose poem “Bí Thusa 'mo Shúile” Mary Byrne famously translated and versified, creating one of the best loved hymns of the twentieth century: “Be Thou my Vision.” Eochaid was born c. 530, a royal descendant of one the legendary High Kings of Ireland, Colla Uais. He was a scholar, and the Liber Sanctorum that records his life says that he studied so intensely that he lost his sight as a result, hence earning him the nick-name “Dallán” which means “little blind one”. He died in 598 when marauders attacked his island monastery at Inniskeel, County Donegal, beheading him. The legend goes that they threw his head into the sea but some time later it was miraculously reunited with his body. Dallán was beatified in the eleventh century. He is also attributed with writing the Amra Coluim Cille or “Eulogy of St Columba” who is purported to have met and certainly had great respect for.

Although physically blind, St Dallán clearly had remarkable spiritual and intellectual vision that drew him into God’s future. Vision and visionary experience has long been the domain of the religious sage, the prophet and priest. As the King James Bible translates so memorably from the wisdom of the Hebrew tradition (Prov. 29:18): “where there is no vision, the people perish.” The Bible, both Old and New Testament, is filled with stories of visions and encounters with heavenly beings: Moses and the burning bush (Ex. 3); Isaiah’s vision of God in the Temple (Isa. 6); Gabriel’s annunciation to Mary (Luke 1); Paul on the road to Damascus (Acts 9); John’s revelation on the island of Patmos (Rev. 1).

Our theology of visions and visionary experience is rather important. Are these Biblical narratives just interesting stories from a pre-scientific past, or do they hold ongoing significance for us in today’s world? Do they tell of something real and valuable for the twenty-first century Christian? Interestingly psychology, long concerned solely with the cure of ills and ailments, is now turning its lens on other areas that were previously off-limits. Positive psychology is a rapidly growing branch of psychology founded in the 1990s by a former President of the American Psychological Association, Martin Seligman. Current research in this field includes, for example, Chris Peterson’s ground-breaking work on “Virtues in Action” a scientific study of character strengths such as gratitude, love, wisdom, kindness, forgiveness, hope and so on.

Pertinent to our topic today is a recent paper by Seligman and three colleagues entitled “Drawn into the future, or driven by the past” (Seligman, Railton, Baumeister & Sripada, 2012). In summarising the paper they write:

Prospection (Gilbert and Wilson, 2007), the representation of possible futures, is a ubiquitous feature of the human mind. Much psychological theory and practice, in contrast, has understood human action as determined by the past, and viewed any such teleology (selection of action in light of goals) as a violation of natural law because the future cannot act on the present . . .. Viewing behavior as “drawn into the future” is seen as a core organizing principle of animal and human behavior.

The idea of being “drawn into the future” is one that resonates with me personally. When I first left home to study Engineering at University, I spent too much time playing the guitar in a band, and not nearly enough time with my books. As a result I failed my first year exams and had to re-sit the year externally. It was one of the hardest years of my life, and in the midst of some pretty despairing times I went home to visit my parents. It was Holy Week and I went with them to a simple Tenebrae service at their church. In the middle of the prayers I had a visionary experience. In my mind’s eye I was engulfed by flames but remained unharmed. Just ahead, through the flames, I caught a glimpse of two marble lions, like those that stand on either side of the entrance to a grand house. I wept as I felt God’s loving and forgiving presence envelop me. The vision triggered a major shift in direction for my life, morally and spiritually. It started to draw me into a new future. When I went back to University I started attending church again, something I’d not done regularly since leaving home. A whole new world opened up as I went on a retreat to Taizé, discovered contemplative prayer, and started reading about people like Julian of Norwich who also had visionary experiences that drew them into a very different future than they could ever have imagined.

I invite you to reflect on the vision or visions that may have shaped your life to this point and are drawing you into the future. Of course not all visions are dramatic mystical experiences. There are many different ways that we can be drawn into God’s future. Some visions are very bodily, based on our physical needs and desires. The Biblical example of Abraham and Sarah comes to mind (Genesis 18). They entertain three strangers, and in this simple act of hospitality they meet with God who promises what they are both longing for, a child. Other visions are political. In the Palm Sunday gospel (Luke 19) we see Jesus and the disciples staging a political rally and offering a vision of hope to an oppressed people. It is well stage-managed, with a Messiah’s colt for Jesus, and the Pharisees get anxious at the jubilation of the crowd and what Roman wrath this might unleash. Get your disciples under control, they urge him, but Jesus replies: “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” It is a vision of liberation in a time of fear and censure, and a defiant act of hope in the face of death.