Children of Light
The good man may not be aware that somewhere on Earth, while he slept, other men were seeking the true Light and meditating upon it. And this Light that I speak of is the Light behind the light — the same that kindled the Sun and Moon and stars in the beginning. And this Light — the Light of the world — is what every man born is seeking all the days of his earthly life, whether he knows it or not.
I will mention the feeblest of all lights — the candle that burns all night in a cold cell of this monastery. The monks here are all frail creatures like the men of the ploughshare and the net and given to error, but now and then, here and there, in cell and sanctuary, all over the world, a great company of minds and hearts is set on a quest for the ultimate meaning of things — for that goodness and truth and beauty that are at the heart of life.
The world is wrapped in night and sleep: a solitary sits at his candle and his spirit is abroad on the ocean of God’s love. Presently, the night-watcher is aware that the flame of his candle is so thin as to be invisible. The Sun, new risen, is flooding through his window. It is not the Sun of all vanity, but the Sun of holy wisdom, and under it, wonderful things are done day after day to the end of time.
These truths are not given only to a solitary here and there in the long watches of the night, they aught to be part of every man, woman and child. If we are true to that Light, we shall know when our last day on Earth, if not before, that life is a thing of beauty beyond price. The peace of the Light that we tend and trim in our hearts will outlast the darkness and the dust of death. And so, dear children of the Light, go out in peace to your fields and your fishing boats.
~ From the novel: Vinland by George MacKay Brown, Ch. 5.
(the conclusion of a short sermon given many centuries ago by Abbot Peter in a monastery chapel in the Orkney Isles)
