‘Welcome!’ we hear when the front door opens and our friends invite us in. ‘Welcome’ says the airport as we turn up to catch our plane. Even my computer welcomes me when I put in the password. There is no mystery about the word ‘welcome’. It has been around in the English language since the days of King Alfred.
It is worth spending time on. One person who did just that was George Herbert. He was a country vicar in Wiltshire in the 17th century who left us a store of hymns and poems of a distinctive kind – temperate, gentle, kindly, that have had their part in composing the Church of England outlook. He was also a keen musician.
A good place to start the George Herbert quest is a poem beginning ‘Love bad me welcome…’The next word is ‘But’ This suggests that something other than platitude will follow. And indeed the poem goes on: ‘But my soul drew back … ‘
What could hinder the writer? We are drawn into a recognition of his hesitation. He feels that to accept the welcome may be to deceive the welcomer. He knows himself well enough to be aware that he is not always upright, honest and true. He has his short-comings. And he is perhaps more severe with himself than we might be. If these blemishes were apparent rather than hidden away, the welcome might not be valid. Hence ‘my soul drew back.’ There is more than a touch of Luke’s centurion, a man conscious of his own unworthiness (Luke 7.6) here.
There follows a conversation in which the poet realises he has been judging his Maker and Redeemer by his own standards. His hesitations and objections are dismissed. The love that welcomes is a love beyond that ordinarily found among humans. It is a love that has gone all the way in countering flawed human nature.
Eventually the poet recognises this. He realises that he has failed to grasp the magnitude of this offer of welcome and he accepts the hospitality offered. He has learned much about love, about failure, about forgiveness. With him we learn that there is more to repentance and forgiveness than we might have comprehended.
Simone Weil called it the most beautiful poem in the world. John Drury can understand readers saying that this poem takes them as far as poetry can ever go.
BEMERTON TODAY
St Andrew’s church, Bemerton, Salisbury where Herbert spent his last three years as Rector of two churches is tiny and St Michael’s church was added in the 1950s. The interior is neat and spacious, better than the exterior, which looks like a fortress. There is a church centre. Kevin Martin is the Rector. Before being ordained he was a psychotherapist and is married to one. Two charities help to keep the church open and in good repair and organise summer events.
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