Love bade me welcome

On Sunday we attended the baptism of our great nephew Arlo in a village church in Somerset. The setting was quite traditional, but the vicar gave a lovely welcome to the families who had come for the baptism, and was happy to see all the young children relaxing in the church, running around and generally making themselves at home.

When it came to the gospel reading he walked down the aisle, dressed in his priest’s robes, and flanked by two ‘acolytes’ carrying candles. But he used the Usborne Children’s Bible to tell the story of the baptism of Jesus. When the children stopped their running to listen, he knelt down with them and included them even more closely, showing them the pictures and acting out the story with them. It was a lovely moment.

It reminded me of this poem. The setting is another village church, with children from their ‘Sunday’s Cool’ group waiting to come back into the service with the leader, who narrates the poem:

Church's banquet

We had finished Sunday's Cool
and were waiting in the church porch to return.
There were just three that day:
Joseph with bright eyes and mind and a sweet sideways smile, 
Poppy peaceful and pretty
in a party dress, her Sunday's best, 
and William swirling and dancing 
with wise eyes deep pools of observation.

They circled and hopped in anticipation 
like horses ready at their gates.
So we waited
these three, my three grace-girls and me 
looking for a crack in the door 
so we could slip back in.

Watching them I wondered:
amongst the crumbling church walls,
rotas, church politics, chair stacking and service prep 
might church still be a banquet 
and prayer a party?

The children answered
as the door opened and they were off 
galloping up the aisle
knowing there was blessing at the table 
where another Three waited.

Whirling, twirling, hurling themselves 
into church
the children had it:
week by week the feast is laid
and we may sit and eat.

The church is not always good at welcoming those who don’t fit in or who are different – so it’s wonderful to have these examples of lively children feeling so welcome.

That poem is from a beautiful book called ‘Something Understood’ based on George Herbert’s poem ‘Prayer’. Today is the day we remember George Herbert. He began his career as a rising star in the world of the university and in politics, but he gave that up to become vicar of a small parish called Bemerton, near Salisbury. He was by all accounts a conscientious, caring and prayerful parish priest. The heart of his spirituality is expressed in another poem. You might recognise a similarity with the last line of ‘Church’s banquet’…

Love by George Herbert

Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lacked anything.

‘A guest,’ I answered, ‘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 marred 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.

That radical personal welcome is not always easy for us to accept. We may not feel good enough. Or it may make us feel vulnerable – it may feel too intimate. But if we can allow ourselves to be welcomed like this so completely by the God who loves us, then our hearts may be more ready to welcome others with the same inclusive love.

Here’s a prayer I wrote many years ago, based on that poem by George Herbert:

The Lord Jesus invites us to his meal.
When our shame makes us draw back
his live bids us welcome.
He lifts our downcast eyes to his.
He takes our hand and draws us in.
He says because of me you are the worthy guest.
Our Lord, we come with thankful hearts.  Amen.

Spend a few moments with the poem ‘Love’.

Be aware of the Jesus welcoming you.

Can you lift your eyes to him?

Can you sense him take your hand and draw you in?

Can you feel yourself being fully welcomed by his love?

Rest in his love and be thankful.

Think of those people you know who you long to feel that welcome.

Those who feel left out…

Those who struggle to accept that they are loved…

Those who are just beginning to explore faith and spirituality…

Bring them, in your prayer, into the welcoming love of God.

We can offer ourselves to be the ones reaching out with God’s welcome.

What might that look like for you?

Lord Jesus, may we know and accept your welcome,

may we reach out with your love to those around us, those who feel excluded,

may we rejoice in sharing your love with others.