After reading this morning's Gospel text (Mark 1:1-13) I'm feeling like I'm forever on the heels of Jesus' ministry, like I can't quite keep up. Maybe it's the pace of Mark's story-telling and I just need to increase my work-out regime so I can catch up. But then again, maybe Mark wants his readers to feel a bit out of control––to feel that adrenaline rushed sense of urgency that comes with waiting and watching for Jesus to show up in our lives.
I'm not a make-a-decision-on-the-spot type of person. I'm always the one who says to the waiter, "just a few more minutes please!". From my experience though, Jesus has always been there when I have been ready (at last!) to place an order––to request the way that I'd like to take part in God's feast.
If you're like me and turning to God is sometimes like walking through molasses, don't fret: God is a patient God who always bids us welcome to sit at his table. And today is one of those days where, with Herbert, I'm feeling good and ready to "sit and eat."
Love (III)
Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd any thing.
"A guest," I answer'd, "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 marr'd 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.
(Source: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/173632)
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