Read: Psalm 84:1-12
How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! (v. 1)
The last word in this line of the poem is “bliss.” We may use that phrase “last word” in another sense, and say that praying (the theme of all these readings) is, or at any rate can be, the last word in happiness, delight, even pleasure. Not, perhaps, something that often occurs to us. But I see how it can be so, and why Satan, the great spoilsport, would like to make us think otherwise.
It means talking to our loving Father about simply anything, knowing that he wants us to do so and is delighted to listen to us; that he is totally aware of our present circumstances, and is even more concerned about them than we are ourselves; that he has wonderful experiences lined up for us; that he is well aware we may find that hard to believe; that he wants us to “spill the beans,” to tell him how anxious, or puzzled, or angry, or desperate, or numb, or rebellious, we feel.
Oh, the bliss of being able to unload everything to a truly sympathetic ear! And then to have the assurance, whether or not we hear him say so, that he has everything under control! All of us may see ourselves as being (like the psalmist) from one point of view on our way to Zion, and from another, already there. In either case our Lord wants us to enjoy the bliss of his constant company.
Here is the poem in its entirety:
Prayer (I)
BY GEORGE HERBERT
Prayer the Church’s banquet, Angels’ age,
God’s breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet sounding heav’n and earth;
Engine against th’ Almighty, sinner’s tower,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days-world transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;
Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted Manna, gladness of the best,
Heaven in ordinary, man well drest,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul’s blood.
The land of spices; something understood.
Prayer:
Renew for me daily the reality of that all-embracing promise.
Author: Michael Wilcock