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.
