A month ago, I find myself wrestling with thoughts about the word LOVE. I pondered about the society’s definition, on how that 143 word has been rampantly “clouding the nines” everywhere. The way I see it, love has been said if there’s a mutual connection at least between two persons, or in the case of none, if one feels strongly for the other. So what about the case of the other? Can that other still say 143 to the one given that there’s no mutual connection?
Honestly, I’m a kind of person who doesn’t easily say those sparkling words. If you would really know me, my head is often on top of my heart. Then I started thinking if it is God who I’d be telling it to, will I be at ease? I once surveyed in FB: “can you directly tell God, I Love You?” and to my surprise, I got too many yes and of course! feedback. I was like “Wow, really? As in honestly ah?” We are sinners, unworthy for God’s love so as to say I love You to God. Everytime I think about how God truly loves us; unconditionally and sacrificially, it makes me creep down, the feeling of wanting to hide from Him; we’re like a blot of ink in a pure white background. Just imagine that picture, don’t you want so much to cover that ink stain from the scene? Shameful.
The poem below I’m about to share comes from the book I mentioned on top. It revived me with a new and teary perspective. Love. God. 2 different definitions but 1 in nature. (Please bear with this lengthy entry)
LOVE (III)
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 any thing.
“A guest,” I answer’d, “worthy to be here”;
Love said, “You shall be he.”
“I, the unkind, 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.
This poem was made by a 17th century pastor named George Herbert. Since the poem is quite old and the language is difficult, James Bryan Smith explained what the poem means (at least to him) in an attempt to offer some insights into it.
Pp104-107 ***********
• Love bade me welcome. Right away Herbert tells us bout the nature of God – Love (I John 4:8). Through out the poem, you can substitute the word love with God. “God bade me welcome.” God invites us in.
• Yet my soul drew back. But what is the soul’s response? When God draws near – really near – it is natural and even right for us to draw back. After all, God is holy and righteous.
• Guilty of dust and sin. Herbert tells us why we draw back; he never says we are anything other than guilty. You and I all know in our hearts that we have failed, that we have fallen short of God countless times, and we draw back because we are guilty.
• But quick-ey’d Love. Herbert describes God’s sight as such. God sees us fully and completely. He watches us, yes, but with the eyes of love and compassion.
• Observing me grow slack / From my first entrance in. Growing slack, in the 17th century, meant hesitation. Do you see the movement? God invites us in, but we draw back. God knows why – we feel guilty. So what does God do?
• Drew nearer to me. God comes closer. He sees us falter and steps towards us. Even as we faint and fall away, God draws closer to us.
• Sweetly questioning. Here begins a kind of gentle argument. God draws near and asks us a question. With my earning-favor narrative well in place, I am sure God will ask, “Why have you sinned so much?” But it is not so.
• If I lack’d any thing. God’s first question is not, “What do you have to say for yourself, you rotten sinner?” but rather, “What do you lack? Do you need something?”
• “A guest,” I answer’d, “worthy to be here.” We lack a sense of being worthy. Most of us feel unworthy before God. (my thoughts: I’m guilty of this)
• Love said, “You shall be he.” Love responds to our doubts about our worthiness by saying, “You are worthy. You are because I say you are. You are because of my love for you.” Augustine once wrote, “By loving us, God makes us lovable.” Our worthiness will never be merited, achieved or earned. It is given to us as a gift, and a gift can only be received.
• “I, the unkind, ungrateful? ah my dear,/ I cannot look on thee.” But we have a hard time receiving gifts. After all, the whole world runs on merit, on earning what we get.
• Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,/ “Who made the eyes but I?” This is a shocking image. Can you imagine God smiling – about anything? About you? Look at God’s marvelous response: “Who made your eyes – wasn’t it me?” We say, “God, I am unworthy to look at you,” and God replies, “Can’t you understand that those eyes, the ones you can’t lift up to me – I made them!”
• “Truth, Lord, but I have marr’d them.” “Yes,” we answer. “But [there is always a ‘but’] I have marr’d them. Herbert is saying, “Yes, you made my eyes, God, but I have not used them rightly. I have looked on things I should not have; I have marred them by my own actions.”
• “Let my shame / Go where it doth deserve.” Once again, the poor soul argues. It is here in the poem that the soul cries out not for mercy but for justice: “I am not worthy – give me not what I want but what I deserve.”
• “And know you not,” says Love, “who bore the blame?” When we reach this important place, God steps in and says, “I will not disagree. You have failed. And you deserve to be punished for it. But – pay attention to this – do you not know who bore the blame?” God is saying, “Jesus bore the blame. My Son took your shame and you bear it no more.”
We need to stop here for a moment. Sometimes people talk about God’s love as being this cosmic good feeling toward all people with no regard for justice, as though sin were no big deal. This is why many do not think of themselves as sinners. God says, “Your sin is real. The penalty is death. But my Son, Jesus, took the blame. He nailed your sins to his cross. He is the judge judged in our place.’ ”
• “My dear, then I will serve.” Quite often the message of grace makes us feel guilty, instead of making us feel joyful and free. And there are many preachers who preach with that effect in mind: “Don’t you know, young man, that Jesus died for you – don’t you feel guilty about that?” and the intended response is, “Yes, yes I do. I’m sorry, Lord. I promise to do better. I’ll try harder to do better – I promise! I’ll even die on a mission field for you. Just give me a command, and I’ll do it. I owe you, God.”
• “You must sit down,” says Love, “and taste my meat.” In response God says, “Sit down. Rest here. Feast with me. Be with me. Enjoy my presence, and let me serve you first. I don’t need you to serve me. I don’t need you for anything. I made you because I love you, and what I really want is to be with you. My deepest desire is not that you go off to try to serve me, but that you would let me love you.” (my thoughts: wow.. this part struck me the most)
• So I did sit and eat. This is what God wants most of all. He wants to serve us, to see us feast and rejoice in his goodness. One day we will serve others, but only as a response to God’s love, not motivated by guilt.
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How humbling the poem, noh? I mean the fact that we want to return the favor to God out of guilt has pride in it, like we can’t accept the grace that’s been given as a gift, like we want to prove ourselves to God because we see how unworthy we are, instead of seeing how gracious and good God is. Everything here on Earth, everything we do in our lives; all really is not about us.
God is truly amazing. As much as I love poetry, this poem will always be embedded in my soul to remind me of God’s unfailing love. May we be reminded always. Only when we start to understand the true loving nature of God will we only start serving others out of love as well :)
