Bring us, O Lord God,

at our last awakening,

into the house

and gate of heaven,

to enter into that gate

and dwell in that house,

where there shall be

no darkness nor dazzling,

but one equal light;

no noise nor silence,

but one equal music;

no fears nor hopes,

but one equal possession;

no ends nor beginnings,

but one equal eternity;

in the habitations of thy glory

and dominion 

world without end.

Amen

John Donne

These are words from a sermon by John Donne, priest and poet, who died on this day in 1631. They have been shaped into a prayer which, in our own day, is often used at funerals. On such occasions, we’re already alive to our own mortality, tingling with the inevitability of our own funeral. If tempted to look towards it with dread, however, Donne’s inspired use of the word ‘awakening’ brings us to our senses. He’s speaking of dying but flips right over the common euphemism which describes it as ‘falling asleep’. Far from being a passive sinking into eternal oblivion, the dying of which Donne speaks is ‘our last awakening’.

And then, in the prayer’s central, magisterial lines, he describes what we will find when we have awoken to God that final time. We will no longer be pushed and pulled between opposites such as darkness and dazzling, noise and silence, fears and hopes, ends and beginnings. Instead, all struggle will cease. We will be free of agitation. In ‘the house and gate of heaven’ we will find nothing but rest and balance, composure and constancy, harmony, equanimity.

Donne gives us a glimpse of heaven through his sublime words: William Harris reveals even more of its wonder by setting these words for double choir.  The combination of words and music shimmers with holy serenity. Together the two men draw us right into the prayer’s ‘one equal music’.