Zombie Poets

I was at a meeting the other week, and people started discussing the interestingly-titled book "If you see George Herbert on the road, kill him." George Herbert died in 1633.

[Apparently it's a book about ministry and the fact that the "vicar does everything" model doesn't work any more, if it ever did. Of course, being an evangelical, I was reared far more on Baxter than Herbert in terms of writing on ministry, and we've ditched the vicar does everything model years ago. In fact, I've come across Herbert a lot as a poet (he's a very good poet), but hardly at all as a writer on ministry...]

Anyway, my initial reaction to the title of the book was to imagine a new squad of highly trained vicars being sent out to rid the world of the new menace of zombie poets. I shared this picture with other ministers in the room, but they didn't seem in the least amused. I'm not sure what this says about my suitability or otherwise for the ordained ministry!

Picture on right: George Herbert pre-zombification

George Herbert - Love

This poem - Love by George Herbert is a favourite of a fair few people I know. It's well worth some thought...

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-eyed 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 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.