The Hound of Heaven

“I fled Him, down the nights and down the days,

I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways

Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears

I hid from Him, and under running laughter.

Up vistaed hopes I sped

And shot, precipitated

Adown Titanic glooms of chasmed fears

From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.

But with unhurrying chase

And unperturbed pace,

Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,

They beat – and a Voice beat

More instant than the Feet –

‘All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.’

This is the beginning of The Hound of Heaven, a famous poem written by Francis Thompson.  The Hound of Heaven talks of God’s persistent pursuit of people, His continual presence as they try to fill their needs and desires with other things (only to find emptiness), and the sound of His footsteps as He patiently follows behind. 

Thompson knew about the emptiness of pleasure-seeking.  He wrote this poem while living as a match-selling homeless man on the streets of London.  The address that he gave magazine editors to whom he sent his poems was the location of chemist’s shop where Thompson fed his opium addiction.* 

I read this poem in full this week – and then listened to Richard Burton read it.  (Because somehow British accents make it that much better :)).  And I was struck by a few lines especially.

I pleaded, outlaw-wise,

By many a hearted casement, curtained red,

Trellised with intertwining charities;

(For, though I knew His love Who followed,

Yet was I sore adread,

Lest, having Him, I must have naught beside.)

Do I really think that if I give all to Jesus, that I come out with less in the end? 

But that’s what the world tells me.

And Thompson goes on to talk of various pleasures, repeatedly coming back to the lines:

“Still with unhurrying chase,

And unperturbed pace,

Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,

Came on the following Feet,

And a Voice above their beat -
‘Naught shelters thee, who will not shelter Me….’

“Naught contents thee, who contents not Me….’

Thompson looks around at his life at one point and says,

I stand amidst the dust o’ the mounded years –

My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap…

And still the Hound of Heaven pursues.  And know what I LOVE about this poem?  In it, Thompson doesn’t describe God as someone who will sugarcoat our condition.  (Don’t you hate it when people pretend things aren’t as bad as they really are?  Or when they tell us we’re something we know we aren’t?)

And although God sees that we are the “dingiest clot” of clay…and truly unworthy of love…He continues to pursue us.  Isn’t that BEAUTIFUL? 

'Strange, piteous, futile thing!

Wherefore should any set Thee love apart?

Seeing none, but I makes much of naught’ (He said),

‘And human love needs human meriting;

How has thou merited –

Of all man’s clotted clay the dingiest clot?

Alack, thou knowest not

How little worthy of any love thou art!

Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee,

Save Me, save only Me?

All which I took from thee I did but take,

Not for thy harms,

But just that thou might’st seek it in my arms.

All which thy child’s mistake

Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home.

Rise, clasp My hand, and come!’

That, my friends, is a Hand worth taking.

But the poem doesn’t end there.  Thompson then says this:

Halts by me that foot fall:

Is my gloom, after all,

Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?

‘Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,

I am He Whom thou seekest!’

I realized this week that I seek many things in life.  Success in completing my master’s thesis (which took up most of my time this week :)).  Love from family and friends.  Recognition from peers.  Joy.  Happiness.  Comfort.  Safety.

And yet…when I look for the good things in life…I end up at the feet of a Person. 

Jesus.

Who promises more and better things from His hand than I could ever find on my own.  (Even if they don’t look like it at the time.)

The Christmas season is right around the corner.  Lest we think that the Hound of Heaven is a poem and not a description of a reality, may we not forget that God took his pursuit of us all the way to a manger.  And then to a cross.

And only in giving up what may seem to be better in this life to follow the Savior will we find the fullest of lives.

May we never flee or hide from Him who offers such fullness.

* From Jeremiah, D. (2006). Captured by grace: No one is beyond the reach of a loving God.  Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson. p. 108-109