I have met a good many intoxicants in my day.
They are bright, loving, carefree, open to the world.
And they have, against the candor of truth,
Been an utmost influence of good.

There is no other time so drunk with love, than at the musical crescendo of the doxology, staring bright into the framed image of Jesus Christ. For some people, stain glass windows are decorations. They fill the void of commonplace; they are additives. But I have been to churches where the light that filters through those brilliants colors strikes the spirit faster than a deft word from the pulpit. I swear I have seen it change in the course of an hour: His image is dark at the first procession, but when the benediction falls, He is brighter than I remember Him ever being. That intoxicating light of Christ, whatever the worry or anxiety, never fails to lift me up.