Last week I heard someone speaking on the subject, 'Why Sing?' . One of their memorable points was this: some things can only be expressed in the poetic. We can write through reams of paper (or countless pages in a Moleskine), or get our theology on, or preach our heads off, and yet still only skim the surface of the succinct, captivating truth of 'Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me' or 'Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so'.
I was thumbing through a book yesterday and re-discovered this superlative poem by a dominator in the metaphysical realm: George Herbert. And I remembered all over again, that there are some sentiments that can only be expressed through the richness of the poetic. From around 400 years ago...take it away, George:Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.
-- George Herbert
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Only in the Poetic...
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3 comments:
This post is a blog-snap for me. I was trying to decide, just this week, whether to blog George Herbert's "Love" or "Redemption".
I love knowing that you share a love of a poem that means a great deal to me. I identify with the "I".
'"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat.'
I'm reminded of Jesus washing the disciples' feet and Peter saying, "Lord, you shall never wash my feet." It's the same sort of sense of unworthiness that is felt by "I" before "Love". Jesus says to Peter, "If I do not wash you, you have no share with me." So, typically, Peter says, "Then not only my feet, Lord, by my hands and my head also."
We cannot serve our way into God's presence; we can only accept that Jesus has done it for us - sitting down and tasting his meat served for us.
Hey G, I think it was you who re-introduced me to to this poem after a generous decade between studying metaphysicals at Uni. I spotted it in a Spiritual Direction book the other day—but the real trigger was 4 years ago...from you!
Aw. I had forgotten! *smiles*
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