Carrying Our Sheaves

Dec 19, 2024

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"Let little children come to me,"
That was our Savior’s word.
Permit the small ones to approach
And receive the mark of God.

From Adam an inheritance
Lies on their tiny shoulders,
Allow the Second Adam strong
To snap that rotting yoke. 

The damning waters of the Flood
Can here be water gentle
Upon the fruit of holy unions
In the steps of righteous Seth. 

The Garden’s rivers are far away;
We sow our lives in sorrow,
Yet carry new and fragrant lives
To the Gardener's empty tomb.

A fruitful generation called,
A Zion daily gathered 
Are these children of the promise
The true Israel of God.

Come now, awaited Worthy One
Who the Baptist did announce
Would, after washing us with fire,
Stand upon Your threshing floor.

Carrying our sheaves, 
Let us set them with the wheat,
To be inside Your barn
A happy harvest for our God.

"Seeing a newly baptized infant, St. Francis was so deeply moved by the grace of baptism, that he went down on his knees and honored the child, acknowledging in it the image of Christ, for he saw the new creation in it. And with a deep humility, he bowed before the child, as though it were Christ himself." -St. Bonaventure, Legenda Maior

The inspiration for this poem came from hearing this section from Psalm 126 sung a few weeks ago:

He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing, shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him. —Psalm 126:6

The poem invites the reader to reflect on the words of our Lord, to “suffer the little children” to come to Him, to remember Eden, the promise to Abraham, the Exodus, and the Flood. Then the reader turns his eyes, with John the Baptist, to Christ: the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit and with fire. The poem ends with a prayer: A new parent’s petition for his child.