Category Archives: Christian Poetry

Undeserved Love (Agape)

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Love (III)

George Herbert, 15931633

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.
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Beginning the Work of Christmas

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Many people are now experiencing an after Christmas let-down.  The gifts are opened, the parties are over, family and friends have gone home.  Hopefully, as Christians, we see Christmas as a beginning, not an end.  Advent is only the start of the liturgical year, and when Christmas Day is over, the Christ candle remains and is lit during our services to symbolize the presence of Jesus with us and His ministry on earth.  That ministry now belongs to us, His body, the church.  Below is a poem composed by Howard Thurman, and African-American theologian, educator and civil rights leader.  It expresses my thoughts well:
When the song of the angels is stilled,
when the star in the sky is gone,
when the kings and princes are home,
when the shepherds are back with their flocks,
the work of Christmas begins:
to find the lost,
to heal the broken,
to feed the hungry,
to release the prisoner,
to rebuild the nations,
to bring peace among the people,
to make music in the heart.

How are you planning to carry Christmas forward into the New Year?  I’d like to hear your thoughts.

 

A CHRISTMAS SONNET

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The day slips into memory; the storm

No longer keens among the weary trees.

A savage people in their anguish freeze

Before the God who wears a human form.

Stilled is the sound of battle, stilled the cry

Of pain, and stilled the voice of hate and fear—

For one brief moment all creation hears

The hush that echoes farther than the sky.

This night begins a day that for all time

Becomes the dawn of Time; the dream ignites.

The candle that alone withstands the night

Will kindle yet a flame to save mankind.

Listen for the laughter of the stars:

A child is born; tomorrow will be ours!

 

– M.A. Moore

In A Circle

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This short poem was written by Avery Brooke, a spiritual director and author of books on prayer and meditation.  I think it captures the essence of the Christmas season in Christian community.

Mary, Joseph and the young Jesus, hold hands in a circle.

We, with family (and friends), hold hands in a circle.

And God’s circle weaves in and out of our circle while the light grows brighter,

the hearts fonder, and we feel like singing.

See the source image

 

A Poem by John Donne: Nativity

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Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb,
Now leaves His well-belov’d imprisonment,
There He hath made Himself to His intent
Weak enough, now into the world to come;
But O, for thee, for Him, hath the inn no room?
Yet lay Him in this stall, and from the Orient,
Stars and wise men will travel to prevent
The effect of Herod’s jealous general doom.
Seest thou, my soul, with thy faith’s eyes, how He
Which fills all place, yet none holds Him, doth lie?
Was not His pity towards thee wondrous high,
That would have need to be pitied by thee?
Kiss Him, and with Him into Egypt go,
With His kind mother, who partakes thy woe.

Stewardship of Our Roles #2

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As I was looking for a filler to finish off our church newsletter this morning (yes, I am the editor), I came across this poem I wrote years and years ago.  I thought I’d share it as it speaks to our many roles in life and how to handle them.

A Modern Day Psalm

Dear Lord,

Does life really have to be this hard?

I just want to be myself for a change instead of someone else’s

Wife or

Mother or

Daughter or

Employee or

Boss or

Whatever it is I spend most of my time being.

Sometimes my relationships seem to be strangling me instead of fulfilling me …

I want to be free

I want to please myself.

The trouble is I’m not really sure who I am or what pleases me

I’m to accustomed to being all of those other people instead.

Maybe I can find myself and You, too, if I really pray.

Maybe there’s a place for me in Your plan.  Me the wife, and mother and daughter and sister and all the other Mes.

Maybe You’ll tell me if I listen.

 

John Donne on the Trinity

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This is only the first part of a litany by John Donne (my English major moment) that  deals with the trinity.

A LITANY.I.

THE FATHER.

FATHER of Heaven, and Him, by whom
It, and us for it, and all else for us,
Thou madest, and govern’st ever, come
And re-create me, now grown ruinous:
My heart is by dejection, clay,
And by self-murder, red.
From this red earth, O Father, purge away
All vicious tinctures, that new-fashioned
I may rise up from death, before I’m dead.

II.THE SON.

O Son of God, who, seeing two things,
Sin and Death, crept in, which were never made,
By bearing one, tried’st with what stings
The other could Thine heritage invade ;
O be Thou nail’d unto my heart,
And crucified again ;
Part not from it, though it from Thee would part,
But let it be by applying so Thy pain,
Drown’d in Thy blood, and in Thy passion slain.

III.

THE HOLY GHOST.

O Holy Ghost, whose temple I
Am, but of mud walls , and condensèd dust,
And being sacrilegiously
Half wasted with youth’s fires of pride and lust,
Must with new storms be weather-beat,
Double in my heart Thy flame,
Which let devout sad tears intend, and let—
Though this glass lanthorn, flesh, do suffer maim—
Fire, sacrifice, priest, altar be the same.

IV.

THE TRINITY.

O blessed glorious Trinity,
Bones to philosophy, but milk to faith,
Which, as wise serpents, diversely
Most slipperiness, yet most entanglings hath,
As you distinguish’d, undistinct,
By power, love, knowledge be,
Give me a such self different instinct,
Of these let all me elemented be,
Of power, to love, to know you unnumbered three.

Traveling Companions

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This is a poem I wrote years ago to my husband.  It’s my attempt to describe how two very different people become one in their shared journey through life.  It reminds me of this verse from Genesis: “Then the Lord God said, it is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.” 

 

Every love is a poem

        in a foreign language

     with two possible translations.

 

Every love is a story

        with two different authors

      narrating the same plot.

 

Every love is a work of art

        molded and perfected

     by two visions of beauty.

 

Every love is a song

       written in two keys

     sung with one voice.

 

Every love is a journey

      through two countries

  traveled together.

Every love begins and ends

With God

Who made us for one another.