I have been busy working on my sermon for this Sunday (The Tapestry of Faith & Works) and decided to take a break (procrastinate). I was reading through an anthology of English poetry I have and encountered George Herbert ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/George_Herbert ). You cannot go through three years of seminary and live a reasonably discussion-oriented pastoral life and not at some point (or many) hear about Herbert’s influence on people’s faith walk or at the very least have him recommended inumerable times.
When vast numbers of recommendations spill into my life pointing me in a particular direction I have a ridiculous flaw I work very hard at overcoming – I tend to immediately head in the other direction. To counter this I created an unwritten rule which simply states that when something/someone is recommended to me three times by three different, unconnected people I will pursue it. I don’t know why three and why not two or four. This rule has served me well and sometimes seems to have been used by God to direct me (maybe it’s a bit of a lamb’s skin).
For some reason George Herbert has escaped my rule and up until last week I was able to avoid reading anything by him…so much the worse for me it appears. To say his poetry is very good is an understatement. Herbert was an Anglican priest who wrote in the early 1600’s. His writing is unpretentious and powerful (for a more complex and equally brilliant contemporary see John Donne – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_donne ). Somehow he captures a great deal of the ecstacy and agony of faith without being over-the-top in his language. I suppose he reminds me a bit of the Gospel of John which has, in my opinion, the simplest , yet most poetic and profound writing in scripture. Take for example the following poem which brings to mind the Lord’s Supper:
Love bade me welcome
—————————-
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.
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.
I will be reading more of George Herbert and I would encourage you to do the same.
Harnessing Chaos 
It also recalls the prodigal son, as well as the passage in Luke 12 about the master having the servants recline at table and serving them. In any of these instances, notice how the poem points out the reluctance of the recipient to receive grace and to substitute the love offered with his own works and service. (The apostle Peter also suddenly comes to mind, with his initial "Go away from me" reaction to Christ, getting his feet washed, denying Jesus, and his reinstatement.)
I like George Herbert. :o) Actually I like the metaphysical poets in general.
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