Gods Mercy
God’s boundless mercy is, to sinfull man,
Like to the ever-wealthy ocean:
Which though it sends forth thousand streams, ’tis n’ere
Known, or else seen to be the emptier:
And though it takes all in, ’tis yet no more
Full, and filled full, than when full-filled before.
(Robert Herrick)
Many of the poets of the Seventeenth Century combined theological precision with psychological perception. The best of them weren’t called Metaphysical Poets for nothing; and when they recounted the range of human experiences they called a spade a spade, a sin a sin, and looked their own unworthiness and deserved judgement head on. But they also revelled in images and words for the extravagant mystery of divine love, the inexhaustible fund of divine mercy, and the inexplicable generosity of a holy God for sinful humanity. The above is one of my favourites from Herrick – I don’t know who reads him much today, and sure some of his verbal gymnastics look like showing off – but here’s another one I like. Not because it is devotionally effective (whatever that might mean!), but because Herrick is enjoying the chance to dig the ribs of over metaphysical theologians:
God’s Presence.
God’s present ev’ry where; but most of all
Present by union hypostaticall;
God, He is there, where’s nothing else, schools say,
And nothing else is there, where he’s away.
Mind you – I wouldn’t mind the odd few lines of metaphysical mind-stretching put up on the power-point as a counter-balance to the limitations of much of contemporary one dimensional praise.
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