There is a well known book and story about the wisdom of Saint Seraphim (Russian Orthodox). In the early nineteenth century, a layman visits Seraphim the monk. He is sitting outside in the deep snow. They have a conversation.

And during the whole of this time, from the moment when Father Seraphim’s face became radiant, this illumination continued; and all that he told me from the beginning of the narrative until now, he said while remaining in one and the same position. The ineffable glow of the light which emanated from him I myself saw with my own eyes. And I am ready to vouch for it with an oath.

I guess there are two ways to read this:

• Either it is a miracle, freely given by God for some reason that we do not know, and this radiation is truly a kind of visible, unmistakable light.
• Or it’s an example of the transfiguration of the body by the Spirit, expressed a bit strongly but nonetheless consistently with that gift, though not itself a miracle.

The Transfiguration of the body by being taken up more and more into the innermost and highest points of the spirit, under the inspiration and action of the Holy Spirit, is a central theme of Christian contemplation. Contemplation takes all. One thing it takes is the human body, which can be transformed (the common word in the West) or transfigured (the common word in the East). What kind of light do we have with Seraphim? It could be miraculous light; it might also be an expression of transfiguration which is a not uncommon terminology in Eastern Christianity.

But this transfiguration is not itself a matter of beauty. At least, not as we might expect it. It is the sign of, as Marie-Joseph Le Guillou puts it, “a profound orientation of being”. It’s not an aesthetical appreciation or a pin-up beauty or an emotional state. It’s something deeper and more like an arrow towards the infinite.

I’m not sure which way to read the story about Seraphim of Sarov. But it makes me wonder.