Strong light and weak glass
There’s an awful lot of the science I learnt at school which I have forgotten, for which I apologize profusely to Mr Berrington, my science teacher. I do remember, though, the weeks we spent learning about the behavior of waves. We learnt all about reflection, refraction and diffraction. Today, as I contemplate preaching on a subject which is liable to touch many raw nerves, I am reminded of refraction – those scattered rays of light broken up by imperfect glass and spilling across science room benches and ceiling:
I often feel as if the Word is a brittle thing
With my boxing-glove hands I hold it up for inspection
Hoping to catch some light
And petrified of dropping it
In truth it is not so
It is preacher, rather than word, which is brittle
And it holds me.