Coming unbelievably to the end of another month, it is time for me to draw to a close my study of Marianne Moore’s work. To finish it off, here is an essay I have written on her poetry – a rich and fascinating body of work which I often do not understand but am always rewarded by. I hope that you have also enjoyed our month of looking at her poetry.
Creator’s Sabbath
Today’s poem comes with acknowledgement to Professor John Walton, whose teaching on Genesis 1 and the meaning of God resting on the seventh day completely turned my thinking on its head – in a wonderful way.
Creator’s Sabbath Do you suppose He rested because the six days’ labour had worn Him out, as though the arms that flung the stars into deep space had need of sleep, as though the hands that tuned the spheres were weary and were weak? No, When He rested He put up His feet upon His footstool, or to use another image, came into His house, turned on the lights and made Himself at home. You see, a house becomes Home when we’re at rest, and so He took the seventh day off to open up His bags and let the world begin, invited some guests, went walking in the garden and saw space there for a world of friends and set the home in motion. And sleepy hares underneath the tree worshipped Him with rest that day, neither tired from their exertion nor reigning like He reigned, but still at rest because they knew the king was home to stay and home to rule.
Hymn of the Rock
Continuing my project of setting John Newton and William Cowper’s Olney Hymns to new music, here is my latest, a hymn which Newton called “That Rock Was Christ”, after 1 Corinthians 10:4. Newton’s words are, as always, beautiful, verging on heartbreaking. I have tried to capture them with my tune. It is perhaps the recording I am the happiest with so far. I hope you enjoy and benefit from it like I have done in recording it. Here are Newton’s words below for you to read as you listen.
That Rock Was Christ - John Newton (Original Music by Matthew Pullar) When Israel's tribes were parch'd with thirst, Forth from the rock the waters burst; And all their future journey through Yielded them drink, and Gospel too! In Moses' rod a type they saw Of his severe and fiery law; The smitten rock prefigur'd Him From whose pierc'd side all blessings stream. Their outward rock could feel no pain, But ours was wounded, torn and slain; The rock gave but a wat'ry flood, But Jesus pour'd forth streams of blood. The earth is like their wilderness, A land of drought and sore distress; Without one stream from pole to pole, To satisfy a thirsty soul. But let the Saviour's praise resound; In him refreshing streams are found, Which pardon, strength, and comfort give; And thirsty sinners drink and live.
Numbering Days (After Marianne Moore’s “What are Years?”)
Today’s poem – my last one responding to Marianne Moore – is inspired by her great reflection on mortality and eternity, “What are Years?” It was the first of her poems that I ever read, back when I was studying poetry in the fourth year of my Literature degree, and I still remember the impact of those words when I first encountered them. You can read Moore’s poem here. As always, I am quite sure that my poem does not do justice to Moore’s work, but here it is anyway – a good reminder to me, and hopefully to all of us, of the wisdom of Psalm 90:12 – “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
Numbering Days (After “What are Years?”) Days are short and time fades, but breath is shorter: the out and in, the lungs finding reason, purpose, yet ephemeral as the flower’s first petal, peering tentative to sun, or a child teetering on feet not yet attuned yet little time to learn. How wonderful to be wise! But apples’ after-taste is bitter like a seed; so weak the life we breathe, how lasting death. The snake, condemned to spend its days in dust, belly-crawling, knows how futile those first steps can prove. But the one who walks bravely, feeling finitude yet breathing, embracing breath, days numbered, will see through humbled eyes how days wane when held too tightly how breath lengthens when released, how sun shines brightest when it shines humbled under true light.
Theology Part 4: Psalm
God, my love is vapour, my heart’s dust. I pass and fade like dew, like day; I tremble like the dawn. God, my all is empty, I have no grace to give my neighbour or give You. So be my everything – be constant when I fade, constant in my nothingness, my sapping strength, my faithless, lovelessness.
Theology Part 3: Pursuance
Go and do likewise;
what you have seen,
now do, and do with joy,
and what
you have heard once
whispered
in your ear,
proclaim it from the rooftops;
now shout
the truth that rings
in your ears; proclaim
in word and deed and
in the beat
of your changed, now
pounding
heart, stone
replaced with flesh and life
instead
of death. What deeds
consumed your life
in days before: now toss them
into
the winds of yesterday;
follow
the man
from Galilee whose steps now lead
towards
love’s Cross. Watch king
throw off His crown, and take
thorns upon His brow;
now see
all vast eternity’s wisdom
contained
in Him;
see His scars and learn; now go and do
likewise.
Theology Part 2: Resolution
…love to one’s neighbour is not to be sung about – it is to be fulfilled in reality. Even if there were nothing else to hinder the poet from artistically celebrating love to one’s neighbour in song, it is quite enough that with invisible letters behind every word in Holy Scripture a disturbing notice confronts him – for there it reads: go and do likewise.
(Søren Kierkegaard, Works of Love)
Faith is no good if, seeing yourself in a morning mirror, you walk into the day and forget your own face. Love is no good if, taking, not giving, you can say to your father whose all is your own, “Give me now what is mine.” And poetry is no good if you can walk to Jericho and leave the stranger lying, bleeding beside the bleeding road.
Lines of Flight
No root, no trunk, no stem, only these weeds; No path to travel, only lines of flight. No start, no finish, unity or seed, Only these thoughts that twist and turn, alight. And when the course is twisted and the root Cannot be simplified, then who are we? We are creators and Creation's fruit, We are this complex multiplicity. We are the thoughts inside the Maker's mind Yet we are circling where we do not know. We are towards Him, and in space and time, We are eternal in the finite Now. The truth is tangled and we cannot see Yet in the complex mass, the sovereign He.
Theology Part 1: Acknowledgement
First of all, acknowledge Him;
know that all good comes from Him.
The sun, the moon are His lamp-shades,
the sea His pool, the skies His chair.
Health and growth and happiness:
these are from Him; He made them.
Relationships, prosperity:
all good comes from Him.
Rain to make the soil soft,
sunlight so that plants may grow,
air so we and they may breath:
turn to Him with thanks.
And then, submit: know He is God
and you are not; the difference there
is pivotal, though you forget
its truth from time to time.
He is not man that we may twist
His arm in our direction;
nor is He a tyrant that
He does not hear our cries.
Age to age unchanging, yet
relationship within His core:
acknowledge Him, give thanks and bow;
know that He is God.
And love: love Him, for He is good.
In loving Him, we learn to love,
for love’s made perfect when it’s turned
to its most worthy object and
not towards ourselves.
And then, turn out to love like Him;
love and see you cannot love
without His love within Your core.
Only when we know the gulf
of Being between us and Him
can we marvel that we’re His
and learn to love aright.
You shall love
not to win the dash and charm the crowd nor gain a victor’s kiss, not that you may save yourself from lonely night on lonely night: not for all of this. Nor that passers-by may give you love or those for whom you’ve pined, not that you may earn a wreath and win praises far and wide for your sacrifice. Nor in finding love shall you ask why or put it to the test as though you could not give your love without the promise of return; no, love without this. “More beloving than beloved”, you shall love with all eternity’s great breadth and breath. Love by Love suspired, give love without the thought of love and let Love sustain. “Only when love is a duty, then is love secure”; then is love an act of freedom, un- shackled from our expectations, doubts and fears. So love: and in loving, learn the depth, the height – see scars that were His crown; love given without fear of love or thought of throne, such love lives eternally.
The Consolations of Writing 