This poem resonates with me today. It’s CS Lewis: ‘The Apologist’s Evening Prayer.’ As religion becomes more and more a public possession, we need reminding that the public square is not its natural home. The narrow gate and the needle’s eye are good correctives.
From all my lame defeats and oh! much more
From all the victories that I seemed to score;
From cleverness shot forth on Thy behalf
At which, while angels weep, the audience laugh;
From all my proofs of Thy divinity,
Thou, who wouldst give no sign, deliver me.
Thoughts are but coins. Let me not trust, instead
Of Thee, their thin-worn image of Thy head.
From all my thoughts, even from my thoughts of Thee,
O thou fair Silence, fall, and set me free.
Lord of the narrow gate and needle's eye,
Take from me all my trumpery lest I die.