The Agony by George Herbert

I first met this poem in Malcolm Guite’s book Faith, Hope and Poetry (my review here), and I encountered it again last week in his lecture ‘Christ and the Poetic Imagination’ at Regent College’s Laing Lectures. A blessed Good Friday to you.

The Agony

Philosophers have measur’d mountains,
Fathom’d the depths of the seas, of states, and kings,
Walk’d with a staff to heav’n, and traced fountains:
But there are two vast, spacious things,
The which to measure it doth more behove:
Yet few there are that sound them; Sin and Love.

Who would know Sin, let him repair
Unto mount Olivet; there shall he see
A man so wrung with pains, that all his hair,
His skin, his garments bloody be.
Sin is that press and vice, which forceth pain
To hunt his cruel food through ev’ry vein.

Who knows not Love, let him assay
And taste that juice, which on the cross a pike
Did set again abroach, then let him say
If ever he did taste the like.
Love is that liquor sweet and most divine,
Which my God feels as blood; but I, as wine.

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Poet saints of the West

The Penitent Saint Francis by Annibale Caracci, Capitoline Museum
St Francis, a a poet saint

Going to hear Malcolm Guite at Regent College’s Laing Lectures this week reminded me once again that western Christianity does, indeed, have its own resources and treasures that can be used by the Spirit for renewal. While I love delving into Eastern Orthodoxy — Anthony Bloom, John Behr, Kallistos Ware, Andrew Louth, Archimandrite Sophrony, The Philokalia, Theophan the Recluse (et al., et al.) — it should be remembered that my own tradition has rich resources at its disposal.

In particular, in light not only of Malcolm Guite but also as a response to an annoyance of mine (‘Greek/eastern theology is so much more poetic than Latin/western theology’), I once made an incomplete list of ‘poet saints of the West’:

Godric! (May 21)
Paulinus of Nola (June 22)
Nicetas of Remesiana, poss. Te Deum (22 June or 7 Jan)
Hrabanus Maurus
Notker Balbulus
John Donne
George Herbert
Gerard Manley Hopkins
Francis Thompson
Sedulius a saint?
Venantius Fortunatus
Thérese de Lisieux

I don’t know why that was the list — what about St John of the Cross? St Ambrose? St Thomas Aquinas? C S Lewis?

We have many poet saints in our tradition, and they are worth getting to know — imagination bridges the gap from earth to heaven, like the Bifrost of the Norse. So, to close, one of Guite’s programmatic quotations, from Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V, Scene 1:

The poet’s eye, in fine frenzy rolling,
Doth glance from heaven to earth, from earth to heaven;
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet’s pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

This year’s Lent book: Scripture As Real Presence

As you may recall, I made a poll for 2018’s Lent book. Two books were nominated, but I had a year-long rule of only reading books I own in my spare time. Well, now it’s 2019, and that rule is up. So I have chosen one of those two books, Hans Boersma, Scripture As Real Presence, on the grounds that I live a 15/20-min walk from Regent College where he teaches.

Also, I need to get better at reading the Bible. This book should hopefully do that; it is a study of patristic exegesis.

There is always the general desire to read the Bible more consistently. But I think that I am bad at reading the Bible. Either I don’t invest enough attention or I don’t really get it. I’ve already read Vaughn Roberts’ God’s Big Picture, a book that laicises the work of Graeme Goldsworthy. But somehow, situating a passage from the Old Testament in salvation history doesn’t always help.

So this Lent, I want to read the Bible more.

And it strikes me that being equipped to read the Bible better will help. It will also help to re-learn discipline and humility, of course.

I’m hoping Boersma will be part of that better reading. I mean, I already know a lot about the topic, but what I really want isn’t just information about how the Fathers read the Bible but how I can follow in their footsteps. This book will hopefully help with that. I’m on chapter 4, about Melito of Sardis and Origen’s allegorical reading of Exodus. The introductory sections of the book were inspiring and meaty, and the chapter on Gregory of Nyssa and Augustine’s literal reading of Genesis was thought-provoking. In chapter 3, about Origen and Chrysostom on Abraham’s theophany at the Oak of Mamre, we encounter two different styles that are to be held in tension with each other but not necessarily strictly harmonised.

The underlying conviction of this book, and one that the ancient and medieval exegetes also held, is that Scripture itself needs to be theologically and holistically, and Jesus Christ is at the centre of all true exegesis. God makes Himself manifest to us through Scripture, and we need to prayerfully apply ourselves to it. What I want to know is how Boersma now interacts with his former influences, such as the Reformed tradition and N T Wright.

But I do hope his trajectory through the Fathers into Anglicanism will not end with him Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox, as happens to so many.

This is a readable book, and so far I can heartily recommend it for Protestants who want a taste of the riches of Scripture beyond the sort of historical exegesis touted almost everywhere else.