Recently and quite accidentally, I came across a poem written by a contemporary Singapore poet which threw my mind back some 15 years to another poem I was reading then. I had studied the older poem in a strangely intent manner (for various reasons at that time), which was probably why it remained vivid in my mind all these years. The two poems are "churchgoing" and "Love III" respectively, I reproduce them in full here (with legal permission and the usual random clipart):churchgoing
"and now we see through a glass darkly...." 1 cor 13:10
this morning i reached as far as
the clear glass doors of the sanctuary
and the affably opaque smile of the usher
on the other side, and peering in i saw
that someone had already taken
my favorite seat at the far anonymous
corner - a good seat by all accounts
because one only needs to shake no more
than three other hands when it came to
that part of the service, which had already
started - and i didn't want to interrupt God
who was evidently doing a great job with
the congregation, judging by their steadfast
glassy-eyed unanimity, from my clear glass
perspective anyway, so i turned around and
walked out the main gate, and lit my cigarette,
thinking of the parable of the virgins who
arrived too late and were locked out
(opaquely steadfastly oaken doors no doubt)
of the dinner banquet. then i sat down
for breakfast after that
and said my grace
but it wasn't quite the same at all.
- by Benzie Dio
Love III
Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful?
ah my dear,I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them;
let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love,
"who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love,
"and taste my meat.
"So I did sit and eat.
- from "The Temple", George Herbert (1633)
"churchgoing" caught my attention for the reason that it refreshed some of the sentiments that I felt when I first read "Love III". Also, with the poem's modern and startlingly familiar (albeit intensely private) setting, it put me into a thinking mode about a number of issues that I have been mulling over regarding church life in the last few years - i.e. community, acceptance, and the "funny-shaped sheep" of Christ generally. I had written about these things in past blog entries, but I thought it would be interesting to look at them from a "literary" perspective.
So, purely for the fun of it, for old time's sake (and since one of the poets actually encouraged it), I am going to attempt a little comparative prac crit on the two poems. I am writing on the Blackberry on an airplane, so thoughts shall appear in bullets.
* Each poem is a re-working of a very well-known Bible verse. 1 Cor 13:10 in the case of "churchgoing" and Luke 12:37 for "Love III". In Herbert's work, the personification of God (Christ) is daringly human, tender, cajoling, solicitous even. Careful comparison with the scripture source shows how Herbert has juggled the characters and staging of the scene in his wonderfully witty way, worthy of a true Metaphysical poet. "churchgoing" likewise turns the preamble on its head in an intriguing way - we are used to the idea of the church looking into glass (perhaps darkly at first, if one was a dispensationalist) at the Truth, here someone outside the church looks in through clear glass instead, keenly observing what's going on inside. Who has the truer perspective? - is the question provoked throughout.
* In both poems, distance and space are used to convey the idea of intimacy, or the lack thereof, between deity and follower. At the start of both poems, the protaganist's desire to "draw near" to God is unspoken but palpable. In Love III, God and sinner becomes progressively closer, indeed the image of the eucharist brings about ultimate convergence- God is ingested by the sinner. In churchgoing, the opposite takes place, with the soul drawing back, guilty presumably of [cigarette?] dust and sin. God remains distant and untouched.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.
"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful?
ah my dear,I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"
"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them;
let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love,
"who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love,
"and taste my meat.
"So I did sit and eat.
- from "The Temple", George Herbert (1633)
"churchgoing" caught my attention for the reason that it refreshed some of the sentiments that I felt when I first read "Love III". Also, with the poem's modern and startlingly familiar (albeit intensely private) setting, it put me into a thinking mode about a number of issues that I have been mulling over regarding church life in the last few years - i.e. community, acceptance, and the "funny-shaped sheep" of Christ generally. I had written about these things in past blog entries, but I thought it would be interesting to look at them from a "literary" perspective.
So, purely for the fun of it, for old time's sake (and since one of the poets actually encouraged it), I am going to attempt a little comparative prac crit on the two poems. I am writing on the Blackberry on an airplane, so thoughts shall appear in bullets.
* Each poem is a re-working of a very well-known Bible verse. 1 Cor 13:10 in the case of "churchgoing" and Luke 12:37 for "Love III". In Herbert's work, the personification of God (Christ) is daringly human, tender, cajoling, solicitous even. Careful comparison with the scripture source shows how Herbert has juggled the characters and staging of the scene in his wonderfully witty way, worthy of a true Metaphysical poet. "churchgoing" likewise turns the preamble on its head in an intriguing way - we are used to the idea of the church looking into glass (perhaps darkly at first, if one was a dispensationalist) at the Truth, here someone outside the church looks in through clear glass instead, keenly observing what's going on inside. Who has the truer perspective? - is the question provoked throughout.
* In both poems, distance and space are used to convey the idea of intimacy, or the lack thereof, between deity and follower. At the start of both poems, the protaganist's desire to "draw near" to God is unspoken but palpable. In Love III, God and sinner becomes progressively closer, indeed the image of the eucharist brings about ultimate convergence- God is ingested by the sinner. In churchgoing, the opposite takes place, with the soul drawing back, guilty presumably of [cigarette?] dust and sin. God remains distant and untouched.
* I like the poignant social comedy in both. Who of us have not crashed a party of strangers and felt stupidly awkward at it? And who does not dread Friendship Break at service?!
* Cigarettes & dust. I am constantly amazed at the indictment ability of this. I am not a smoker, but I have a few close (Christian) friends who do (or did). The guilt surrounding the addiction is so real and so powerful, accentuated no doubt by the social stigma present in the community. One friend confided that she learnt to devise intricate strategies to make sure she gets a smoke when hanging out in a church setting without detection. Often it means having to find some place discreet in the middle of a gathering. She would have appreciated the "main gate" detail in "churchgoing".
* Finally, on Communion - it is still that undisputed image for fellowship with God and others. In "Love III", the sinner does sit and eat, which we may take as evidence of redemption. What about in "churchgoing"? In fact, the almost-churchgoer does sit and eat too, after voluntarily saying grace - should that not be taken as communion as well? But it is "not quite the same", he says. Why is that so? Did he feel that he dishonored God by turning up late at church ? (reminds me of the big signboard at my old church containing exactly that message for the latecomers every Sunday) Was it not the same because he would have preferred to eat (fellowship) with the glassy-eyed members of the congregation, and not alone? I am not sure one could tell entirely from this poem. Maybe it had something to do with practical self-criticism.
