There are moments when heaven seems to break into earth, not by vision or dream, but by the sheer weight of glory pressing in upon us. One such moment came to me unexpectedly, years ago, as I sat in the passenger seat of our car on a dark evening drive. My wife who was driving reached forward to turn on the radio, and out of the speakers poured the opening bars of Handel’s Zadok the Priest.
The music began almost imperceptibly, swelling, rising, and then breaking forth with such majesty that before I knew what I was doing, my hands shot into the air and struck the roof of the car. It was as though I had been caught up into the very throne room of God. I saw nothing with my eyes, yet I knew where I was. In an instant, tears poured down my face, and for the whole of that weekend they flowed easily, without turmoil or sadness, but from something deeper — a soul overwhelmed by the nearness of glory.
What I encountered cannot be captured in words, but it was this: that Handel’s music, like Cranmer’s prose in the Book of Common Prayer, was not simply human artistry. It was a gift breathed upon by the Spirit of God, so that it might serve as a vessel for His majesty. The text of Zadok the Priest recalls the anointing of Solomon, yet in that moment it was not Solomon or George II that I heard enthroned, but Christ Himself, the true King. The proclamation of His kingship reached through the centuries, seized my spirit, and lifted me upward.
Experiences like these remind us why beauty matters in worship. Sacred music and sacred words are not luxuries or relics of another age; they are the means by which God gives His people a language and a sound that is set apart, carrying us out of the mundane and into the eternal. Without them, worship risks becoming flat and functional. With them, we sometimes catch a glimpse of the glory that is to come.
I cannot orchestrate such moments, and neither can you. But we can honour the gifts God has given through His servants — Handel, Cranmer, and many others — and we can ask Him to restore to His Church a worship that is not only true but beautiful, not only correct but transcendent. For the day is coming when we shall join that great chorus around the throne, not in fleeting moments, but forever.