A little reasonable doubt might just be the key to our salvation
I entered the church just as the evening sunlight was streaming through the rose window. I walked towards it, and then looked back down the church. In the great central aisle, the air itself seemed to be swimming in kaleidoscopic colours. In particular, the light bathed the face of a woman staring at the window, rapt in contemplation. Her expression brought to mind a Leaving Cert line from Wordsworth, about a nun who was ‘breathless with adoration’.
I felt a little humbled, and slightly voyeuristic, as if I had strayed into another human being’s most private space. Whatever I saw there made me feel suddenly rather well disposed to the people who had created such a marvellous box of light. As we left, I said something to my companion to the effect that there might be something in this religion thing, after all.
