JORDAN. (II)

When first my lines of heav'nly joyes made mention,
Such was their lustre, they did so excell,
That I sought out quaint words, and trim invention ;
My thoughts began to burnish, sprout, and swell,
Curling with metaphors a plain intention,
Decking the sense, as if it were to sell.

Thousands of notions in my brain did runne,
Off'ring their service, if I were not sped :
I often blotted what I had begunne ;
This was not quick enough, and that was dead.
Nothing could seem too rich to clothe the sunne,
Much lesse those joyes which trample on his head.

As flames do work and winde, when they ascend,
So did I weave my self into the sense.
But while I bustled, I might heare a friend
Whisper, How wide is all this long pretence !
There is in love a sweetnesse readie penn'd :
Copie out only that, and save expense.

— George Herbert

Yesterday, before I started work from home, I made a couple of donations to organizations that support the homeless thinking This is the best work I will do today. I was right. Likewise, I expect that sharing the poem above with you will be my best work today. Its opening lines made me think of you, gentle reader of the Cathedral Arts Blog, and how I want to write for you under this dark cloud—this time of isolation and pandemic.

From what I understand, Herbert never intended his poems to be published. I think he wrote them with a similar spirit with which a sermon is written. I suspect that we have Herbert’s poems because he sought form through which to convey love. He wanted to “sell” love with words, the way effective preachers do.

I want to sell you love right now—by that I mean I wish my thoughts would burnish, sprout and swell and that I would find quaint words and trim invention to bring healing at this strange and, for some, extremely difficult time. I find this is not happening for me because, as Herbert’s poem shows, there is vanity in my desire which is not love.

But I can to point to what Jesus is able to do through the readings for today in the Book of Common Prayer.

In the New Testament lesson, St. Paul writes to the gathering of believers at Corinth with one of the most beautiful passages in the Bible, one that might have been in Herbert’s mind as he wrote his prayer-poem above. Paul might have prayed something like There is in love a sweetnesse readie penn'd :/ Copie out only that, and save expense, as he wrote this to the Corinthians:

If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give away all my possessions, and if I hand over my body so that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing. (1 Cor 13:1-3)

Though a millennium and a half apart, in St. Paul and George Herbert burned the same flame of love that consumed their life’s work. Their energies, focused through a keyhole desire—to show the light of Christ—opened out into a spectrum of praying and selling words that still fan out over us as they do above, reminding us even in dark times of the Glory of God.

In today’s gospel reading, after Jesus appeared transfigured on the mountain in glory, dazzling and talking with Elijah with Moses, Peter who witnessed this wanted to do his part:

Then Peter said to Jesus, ‘Rabbi, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.’ He did not know what to say, for they were terrified. (Mark 9:2-6)

Peter might have felt as Herbert wrote a millennium and a half later: Thousands of notions in my brain did runne,/ Off'ring their service.

I know how Peter felt right now. I think you do too. You who are reading this are people who care, who seek love and the right words, who give.

Right now, many of us cannot give in the ways we are used to. Some of the ways we are accustomed to showing love are stymied—serving at the altar, in thrift shops and in AA meetings, in visiting neighbors. Meanwhile, some of us are called upon to give up more than we can by giving up work, or health, or the health of a loved one, or by offering medical care in a strapped system.

Much is being required of us when we, surrounded by fear, are being asked to give it up for the sake of faith—the part of the trinity shared with hope and love. Writing more than this is to clang cymbals at you now.

So let us all together, with our various needs and desires, end with how Peter and his friends fell to silence:

Then a cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud there came a voice, ‘This is my Son, the Beloved; listen to him!’ Suddenly when they looked around, they saw no one with them any more, but only Jesus. (Mark 9:7-8)