Advent Poems 2022 [love]

 

The last candle of Advent represents love. It represents the love of God which sent His Son to earth to save us; it represents Mary’s love for her newborn son; it represents the love that Jesus Christ has for each of us; love that saves, uplifts, and heals.

For this week, I chose the poem “Love (III)” by George Herbert. Herbert was an Anglican priest and a 17^th-century metaphysical English poet, whose writings mainly focused on religious devotion. I first read this poem in an English survey class in college, and the conversation between the speaker and God moved me. This poem centers on a conversation between the speaker and Love (which, in this case, represents Christ), and how the speaker feels unworthy of love, but Love gently reminds him that love is a gift, not earned or deserved.

George Herbert was a Christian poet, and reading the poem through a Christian lens increases my own understanding of the love of God. But, I think this poem can also be meaningful to all of us, regardless of religious or spiritual persuasion. For love is a gift. It is not a transaction, it is not a contest. It is powerful because it is a grace, something that is given and received freely, and not because we are necessarily worthy of it. But receiving love transforms us.

Love welcomes us to the table, tonight and every night. And tonight we welcome Love to the manger, and prepare our hearts to receive the holy gift. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world to condemn the world; but that the world through him might be saved.” (John 3:16-17)

Love (III) 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 any thing.

 

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 shall serve.

You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:

                              So I did sit and eat.