Thursday after Second Lent: Love bade me welcome

I do not know what went on in his life before me except there was some period of episodic alcohol abuse.  Did they call it that then? Oh, and he always worked hard, even in the Great Depression. And he was humorous, loving to laugh. But most of all I know my paternal grandfather loved me, but not just me, each of his grandchildren as if we were the only one in his love-scape.   Is that a word? He was so equal handed in his love.  I watched him and learned much.  Perhaps he was not so with my father but by my birth he was. 

I watched him be so with others and he taught me never knowing I was so keen a student.  I watched him set out on his rounds after he retired to help “his ladies” as he called them.  They were the widows of his community who needed this fixed or that fixed.  How they knew of him I do not know.  I watched him lovingly make a play house with a oak floor and shuttered windows and pinks for my little sister and haul it 90 miles to our house. And when he had to walk 3 miles a day for his heart, I would volunteer to be awakened at 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. when I was visiting so I might walk with him.  And on these walks this non-attending Presbyterian would talk of the natural things of God and of my life.  He always had space to hear me and I must have prattled on so. Did he know how he healed my young heart and life? Did he know he was the most tangible incarnation of God I could truly know and touch?  Perhaps what he knew was that he was imperfect and yet had these late years left of his life to love better. And he employed them so well for me.

When I read John 5:19-29 and especially these verses below, I remember him.

"Very truly, I tell you, the Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing; for whatever the Father does, the Son does likewise…

”Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.

“Do not be astonished at this; for the hour is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and will come out - those who have done good, to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil, to the resurrection of condemnation.”

Two things I know.  My Grandfather often healed my heart by his model and by his perennial kindness to me especially in my teenage years when my father was doing the opposite.  He was so patient and attentive.  His love was wiser by years and perhaps the chance to redo some things.  If he judged me, it was so tender it felt like love and life.  He was not afraid of my ‘sensitive nature’ which seemed to so disturb Dad. Here I did “not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.”

The second thing is that he gave God flesh.  He made it clear that all the love in him was not just of his making.  It was connected to the Creator of all the beauty he would point out on our walks, his kindness to God’s kindness.  He did not go to church because he could not hear the sermon he would say, but he knew the things of Jesus.  He was a medium through which both the Creator and the Son passed into my life.

I like my faith and religion touchable, like the closer presence of my grandfather. I prosper by seeing and doing kindness. So I like to pay my tithe, share useful things not needed now, give and receive polite kindness, laugh in good humor, understand and forgive as I can and be forgiven. I love the touchable nature of God in the sacraments, in Holy Communion and holy water.  It aids me to listen to life seeking to understand this or that. It heals my heart and calls me to better things.

I wonder if it is not because Granddad, God and Jesus have done it so well for me.

Some decades ago I heard this George Herbert poem sung, I knew it to be my story of God and it is calligraphed and now hangs on my bathroom wall where I read it every day.  It is my core theology. Thanks Granddad…oh, and Jesus. 

Love Bade Me Welcome - from Love (III)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back.
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.

A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah, my deare,
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, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.