Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time, October 25, 2020 – Exodus 22:20-26; 1 Thessalonians 1:5C-10; Matthew 22:34-40

James Henry Leigh Hunt, better known to almost everybody as Leigh Hunt, was a poet, an essayist, and a playwright in the 19^th century. He was in that same circle of literary figures as Shelly, Wordsworth, and all of those people we were forced to study in high school. Like most people in England in the 19^th century, he was serenely confident in the superiority of all things British. The sun never set on Her Majesty’s empire. And also, like most people in Europe during the 19^th century, he had a tremendous fascination with all things Egyptian, Arabian, and Middle Eastern. And because of their unspoken assumptions about the world, they never really took seriously the faith of Muslim people, whom they would have called Mohammedans back in the 19^th century, but they liked to fantasize about them. Leigh Hunt was also probably an Anglican Divine, a pastor. He never got a parish of his own, and drifted away from church things, but we can be fairly certain that he had a much better knowledge of both the Old and New Testament than you and I have. That was just typical of people at that time.

And so he writes a poem based on his enchantment with things Middle Eastern, but he also based it on an assumption that’s probably correct. And that is, across the spectrum of religious faith, at least the major known faiths at that time – Anglicanism, Roman Catholicism, Presbyterianism, Lutheranism, the Baptist churches, Judaism, and Islam, – all people reverence and hold as God’s word the two great commandments, which we just heard in today’s Gospel. So he creates a character for his poem. The character’s name is Abou Ben Adhem. Abou is what he thinks is a common Arabian name. But Ben means “son of;” then he chooses “son of” Adhem (Adam). He wants us to identify with this person as like you and me, descended from the first human being. And this is what he writes:

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:—
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
"What writest thou?"—The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one?" said Abou. "Nay, not so,"
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow men."

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names whom love of God had blest,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

We live in a time of great isolationism, anger, pain, and fear. We are called to respond using the two great commandments that Jesus teaches in today’s Gospel. It is not a question of methodology - we all have our own opinions about the right way to do stuff. It’s a question of intentionality - what do we want? What we want is that our names should be right up there next to Abou’s.