Leo wrote a few days ago that for him, the ultimate stage of love (agape),
is when the bridges become so transparent we don't see them anymore, we
feel them instead.
I was thinking about 'transparency' and recalled a story.
It is about luminosity and numinosity.
In the church over the road from my house we have some of the oldest
stained glass in England. Much of it in England having been destroyed.
The Morning sun shines in through the east face of the chapel, specially
built for the village, the 'Church' and glory of God by a Miles de
Stapleton who, along with his two sons, died on a battlefield in Scotland
a few years later.
There is much to learn for our futures in 'simple' village life I have
found during the last twenty years. But that is for another day.
The little boy as sitting in the church, gazing around hither and thither
and a gentleman appeared as if from nowhere and he asked the child,
'Tell me, what are Saints?'
The little boy smiled, looking fascinatedly at the stained glass and
replied,
' Why, aren't they the things the light shines through?'
When the little boy 'turned' the man had gone, the sky 'winked,' the glass
'darkened' and a bright white dove flew as if from the 'ground.'
Feeling is both a Bright and Dark form of Vision.
Best wishes,
Andrew Campbell
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