(from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead)
Just whence
is that “thence”
He shall come from?
And – while I’m asking –
how often, if ever,
Sunday mornings apart,
does anyone nowadays ask
about “thence” around anything?
Quaint words, to express quaint ideas?
All this heavenly to-ing and fro-ing
between this world and the next?
And then there’s that far-away spot,
the remote place where he “sitteth,”
that holy right hand of the Father – no less –
which right hand should surely be present
and active right here and right now.
Not reserved in some distant preserve
until heaven knows when.
Spare us, handy Lord,
our fumbling attempts to grope
our way on toward mystery.
And grant us the redeeming wisdom
and grace to smile, every once in a while,
at our folly in face of your glory.
