He Asked for Charity
St. Francis of Assisi
God came to my house and asked for charity.
And I fell on my knees and
cried, “Beloved,
cried, “Beloved,
what may I
give?”
give?”
“Just love,” He said.
“Just love.”
I am going to take some liberties here and offer the section of Berry's work from which the above quote was taken. So it is a bit long but St. Francis' work is so short so dare to go the extra mile. I promise reading Berry is a million times better and more interesting than my own blather. Though the form is prose, the substance is, in my opinion, pure poetry. Watch out book club friends, this might be my next pick.
"For a while again I couldn't pray. I didn't dare to. In the most secret place of my soul I wanted to beg the Lord to reveal himself in power. I wanted to tell him that it was time for his coming. If there was anything at all to what he had promised, why didn't he come in glory with angels and lay his hands on the hurt children and awaken the dead solders and restore the burned villages and the blasted and poisoned land? Why didn't he cow our arrogance?...
But thinking such things was as dangerous as praying them. I knew who thought such thoughts before: 'Let Christ the king of Israel descend now from the cross, that we may see and believe.' Where in my own arrogance was I going to hide?
Where did I get my knack for being a fool? If I could advise God, why didn't I just advise him (like our great preachers and politicians) to be on our side and give us victory? I had to turn around and wade out of the mire myself.
Christ did not descend from the cross except into the grave. And why not otherwise? Wouldn't it have put fine comical expressions on the faces of the scribes and the chief priests and the soldiers if at that moment he had come down in power and glory? Why didn't he do it? Why hasn't he done it any one of a thousand good times between then and now?
I knew the answer. I knew it a long time before I could admit it, for all the suffering of the world is in it. He didn't, he hasn't, because from the moment he did, he would be the absolute tyrant of the world and we would be his slaves. Even those who hated him and hated one another and hated their own souls would have to believe in him then. From that moment the possibility that we might be bound to him and he to us, and to one another by love forever would be ended.
And so, I thought, he must forbear to reveal his power and glory by presenting himself as himself, and must be present only in the ordinary miracle of the existence of his creatures. Those who wish to see him must see him in the poor, the hungry, the hurt, the wordless creatures, the groaning and travailing beautiful world.
I would sometimes be horrified in every moment I was alone. I could see no escape. We are too tightly tangled together to be able to separate ourselves from one another either by good or by evil. We all are involved in all and any good, and in all and any evil. For any sin, we all suffer. That is why our suffering is endless. It is why God grieves and Christ's wounds still are bleeding."
3 comments:
Holy cow, that is something. I read Jayber Crow too long ago. I for sure need to pick it up again.It's amazing how words, in the hands of someone as talented as Mr. Berry, can pierce the heart so. Thank you very much for sharing that passage!
Beatiful poem and reflection! Thank you! God gave us love and expects us to give love!
It could be Wendell Berry day every single Wednesday and i don't think we would tire of him.
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