FIFTY years ago, the first English version of Hymn of the Universe was published. It was the work of the Jesuit priest-palaeontologist Pierre Teilhard de Chardin.

The book sent tingles of excitement down the necks of liberal theological students, infuriated the rigidly Evangelical, and raised the eyebrows of the orthodox. The author's prose dances on the edge of the poetic, and the theology is dynamic, innovative, and daring. His writings were described by Pope Pius XII as "a cesspool of errors, the synthesis of all heresies" - all of which added to their attraction.

The opening section, "Mass on the World", encapsulates the main theme of his visionary thinking: that of a Christ immanent in the forward thrust of evolution. He found himself, on the feast of the Transfiguration, in the heart of the Ordos desert, unable to celebrate mass because he had no vessels, bread, wine, or congregation. Undeterred, he turned his thoughts to the eucharistic presence of Christ inherent in every particle of the universe.

As the sun rose on the horizon, he watched the light of Christ flood the earth with its radiance. "Once again beneath this moving sheet of fire, the living surface of the earth wakes and trembles and once again begins its fearful travail." In short, the whole world is a macrocosm of the incarnate Lord.

His vision expands. The souls of humankind awakening to the new day become his eucharistic paten and chalice. This great ocean of humanity he holds in his arms as the offertory. The bread represents every living thing that is to spring up, grow, flower, and ripen during the coming daylight hours. The wine is the death-force that corrodes and withers the world, and can be redeemed only by the indwelling God.

The Eucharistic Prayer becomes a heartfelt longing that God will remould, rectify, and reorientate the world, and bring about his Kingdom. At the moment of communion, he kneels before the world that has been transformed into fire, and surrenders himself with delight to the glory of the Holy One.

He is at that central point where the heart of the world is caught in the descending radiance of the heart of God. "All things individually and collectively are penetrated and flooded by it [fire], from the innermost core of the tiniest atom to the mighty sweep of the most universal laws of being."

In the second section, he recounts three vignettes that triggered his awareness of Christ's indwelling. He kneels in prayer before a painting of Jesus, and suddenly he sees a vibrancy emanating from it and flowing out luminously over the universe. He switches on a table lamp, only to be reminded that the light of Christ infiltrates and penetrates the dark world.

The third account tells of a moment in the trenches at Verdun: only by throwing himself into the thick of human endeavour, pain, and fear can he unearth the hidden God who lies at the heart of all that is.

THE last part of the book, "Pensées" ("Thoughts") is a compendium of revolutionary and startling theology. From its very inception, the world has been imbued with the divine, so that even matter and primitive life have a holiness within. This is a theme recognised by contemporary African sculptors, who "release" the spiritual as they chip away at raw blocks of stone.

Then comes the real theological jolt. As the centuries pass by, a plan is slowly unfurling. The evolutionary process is moving forward to a future omega point, through a process of Christogenesis. This "becoming" of the world is fuelled and promulgated by our growing love of God and humanity.

As for the dark side of existence, "the pestilence, earthquake, storm, the unleashing of dark moral forces", we cannot in conscience close our eyes to it. We can only view it as the agony in the garden; a Calvary that will finally be transformed by the glory of the emerging Christ

This is far more than fanciful theologising. Our riven world desperately needs this vision of the indwelling holiness of a cosmic Christ. Our faith (or lack of it) can be bolstered by Teilhard's confident hope that evolution is moving towards an omega point: the Lord of all. We ache for the reassurance that life is not an empty, purposeless journey towards oblivion, but a thrilling, constructive pilgrimage. Teilhard gives us just that.

So I celebrate with thanksgiving the anniversary of this inspiring work, which has been my vade mecum over the years. As a Church, let's establish ourselves in the divine milieu, and join with courage and hope the long march of humanity towards its culmination: Christ.

The Revd David Bryant is a retired priest living in Yorkshire