Keep me, O Lord, as the apple of an
eye;
Hide me under the shadow of thy wings.
from Compline (BCP 1928) and Common
Worship Night Prayer (Traditional)
"The apple of an eye: a symbol of that which is most
cherished,"The Oxford English Dictionarydeclares in its stern,
matter-of-fact way, but there is no disguising the beauty of this
most lovely of phrases. Moses used it in his song of delight,
celebrating the Lord, who saved Jacob from the howling wilderness,
guarding him as the apple of his eye and covering him beneath his
wings (Deuteronomy 32.10). The Psalmist sang the same words of
comfort (Psalm 17.8).
Centuries later, they found their way into the
monastic office of compline, revived for Anglicans by theCuddesdon
Office Bookin the 19th century, then by the 1928 Prayer Book, and
now byCommon Worshipunder the title Night Prayer.
As a sixth-former, I found myself, rather to my
surprise, attending compline one evening in the school chapel. I
knew that some of the more pious boys would disappear at 9 p.m. on
Fridays in Lent. I went along out of curiosity, not expecting
much.
"The Lord Almighty grant us a quiet night and a
perfect end. . . Whoso dwelleth under the defence of the most high
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty."
The quiet, reflective tone struck me - it was so
different from what I was accustomed to in chapel. Here were words
of deep refreshment. Amazing stuff! It was not a Damascus-road
experience, and it certainly did not happen all at once, but it was
a beginning (there were many others).
There was more than bland reassurance. There was
something darker too: a hint of menace to set in relief the words
of comfort. "Be sober, be vigilant, the devil as a roaring lion,
walketh about, seeking whom he may devour; whom resist steadfast in
the faith." What 18-year-old does not know the devil within, or has
not sensed his or her own howling wilderness? "Hide me under the
shadow of thy wings."
Then there was that rare use of the first person
singular. Not "keep us," but "keep me as the apple of thine eye."
Most of our public praying is in the plural, as you would expect in
common prayer, but now, at bedtime, we revert to our private
childhood moment when we were tucked up by mother. "Sweet dreams,
darling. Sleep well." Just her and me, the apple of her eye.
Did the monks, I wonder, find solace in that memory,
and see in it a foreshadowing of God, as they entered the "greater
silence", and filed off down a draughty cloister to a bleak
dormitory? Perhaps it redressed the relentlessly corporate nature
of community life.
"Before the ending of the day, Creator of the world
we pray." In case I forget, just in case I am carried away by my
private moment with God, the words of the compline hymn bring me
back in line. And there is the miracle: that the one who cherishes
each of us as the apple of his eye, the one who calls us each his
darling, is the God of all creation, the Love that moves the sun
and stars
The Revd Adrian Leak was, until his recent
retirement, Priest-in-Charge of Withyham in the diocese of
Chichester.