I tend to forget.
I forget there's a reality we don't see, and even when we only access it quickly and even half-heartedly, it still has an effect. The invisible light shines through us, whether we can see it or not.
Yesterday, we did a very, very fast ritual. There was rain, not sun. There was an inability to light a candle, keep the incense going. Nothing worked right, it seemed. We dealt with it with as much humor and good nature as we could.
But the invocation worked. The angels were with us:
I Reign over you says the God of Justice, in power exalted above the firmaments of wrath, in whose hands the Sun is as a Sword, and the Moon as a through thrusting fire which measures your garments in the midst of my vestures, and trussed you together as the palms of my hands, whose seats I garnished with the fire of gathering and beautified your garments with admiration to whom I made a Law to govern the holy ones, and delivered you a rod with the ark of knowledge, moreover you lifted up your voices and swore obedience and said to him that lives and triumphs whose beginning is not, nor end can not be which shines as a flame in the midst of your Palace, and reigns amongst you as the Balance of righteousness and truth. Move therefore and show your selves, open the mysteries of your Creation, be friendly unto me; for I am the servant of the same your God, the true worshipper of the Highest.
And the poem was apt:
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 batflight,
Moon light and star light, owl and moth light,
Glow-worm glowlight on a grassblade.
O Light Invisible, we worship Thee! We thank Thee
for the lights that we have kindled,
The light of altar and of sanctuary;
Small lights of those who meditate at midnight
And lights directed through the coloured panes of windows
And light reflected from the polished stone,
The gilded carven wood, the coloured fresco.
Our gaze is submarine, our eyes look upward
And see the light that fractures through unquiet water.
We see the light but see not whence it comes.
O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!
There was a lot of water. The light was invisible.
It's odd, that as a priest and as an initiate, I forget. It's good, that these events remind me of the spirit moving in community with us. The friendship, the happiness, the good that comes from sharing food, drink, and shared experiences. A solstice ritual in the rain. A bottle of wine. A plate of scones, and chocolate.
Thank you, everyone present and not, for helping me to try to put this together. I'm glad it was raining, glad we had friends old and new to meet and share in our experience. I had a great time, and look forward to doing it again soon.