Let me go there…

Today I repeat myself by posting a favourite RS Thomas Poem (first posted back in 2007 on my old blog). This poem is called The Coming and it seems appropriate as Easter approaches:

And God held in His hand
A small globe. Look, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, He saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows, a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.

On a bare
Hill, a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said

Thomas writes a lot about about Via Negativa. His God is often absent, hidden and incomprehensive, yet he is also (paradoxically) the God who reveals himself in Christ.

‘The Coming’ gives balance to the theology of absence which runs through much of Thomas’s writings. Because of the coming of the son (and the sacrifice he makes), we can know something of the unknowable. We can catch a glimpse of the hidden.

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