The Scarlet Letter
By: Nathaniel Hawthorne Modernised and edited by Jim McGuiggan (2004)
By: Nathaniel Hawthorne Modernised and edited by Jim McGuiggan (2004)
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If you like poetry you might not like George Herbert. If you love poetry you'll probably love George Herbert. In two poems the speaks of our response to the Holy Father's love. One is called Love and it is a "guest" at a feast that God's love addresses him:
Love bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey'd Love, observe me growing slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd any thing.
'A guest,' I answered, 'worthy to be here';
Love said, 'You shall be he.'
'I, the unkiind, 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 thou 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.
To be at a party where you feel out of place, unworthy, surrounded by guests you feel are worthy--that's a painful experience. Loitering close to the door, ashamed to come all the way in, dressed poorly, looking poorly and feeling even more poorly. Then to be met by the host and brought all the way in and kindly--without too much fanfare-- made to sit to be served.
Sigh. This is the Holy Father.
