Are you ready for a blast from the past? On October 18 (prior to this blog's creation), Prof. James Kee of the Holy Cross English Department delivered a wonderful talk on the religious themes of a poem by the seventeenth-century English poet George Herbert, Love (3). The poem is part of a collection of poems called "The Temple", in which each poem represents a location in a church. The poem is:
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.
The narrator has to be coaxed into attending "the feast", which is an eschatological kind of feast. This image of the feast hearkens to a parable told by Jesus of a master who hosted a feast and sent his servants out to find attendees; however, some of the people spoken to did not want to come. Likewise, the narrator in this poem takes the position of the reluctant guest.
Prof. Kee noted how the choice of verbs was supremely simple, but nonetheless potent. He further noted how the guest argued that his eyes were unworthy to look upon Love, which prompts the response that God Himself made the eyes, and as such would not have made them without the intent of them being used.
The response of the narrator to that proved rather chilling, that "let my shame go where it doth deserve." In other words, his own self-hatred would let him prefer Hell than to his own unworthiness at the feast. Prof. Kee commented that this sort of self-hatred is a problem which arose in modern times, and is at odds with the self-love, or cupiditas which was more frequently talked about in the Middle Ages.
Finally, Love tells the narrator that He bore the blame, referencing of course Christ's sacrifice on the cross. The narrator then decides he wants to "serve", but Love insists that all he do is sit down, and He will provide. He concludes by finally agreeing to be served at the feast: "So I did sit and eat." The verb is past tense, which is consistent with the base tense of the narrative.
Prof. Kee also related this to a speech given by a Holy Cross alumnus, William Jenks '58, a quadriplegic who suffered from polio for 26 years. Mr. Jenks gave a speech to his class in 1979 after this long period in which he insisted that people "learn to be loved." That is, by accepting help in smaller matters, we train ourselves to ask for help with respect to larger things. The quote which he impressed upon us was, "The able-bodied can be brought to truth through hurts that never show. I think it's likely I am not the most seriously wounded among us, only the most conspicuously bandaged. Sooner or later every one of us will be made to feel flawed, inadequate, powerless. And there's no defense against it … The alternative is to let yourself be loved. Not pitied, indulged, or pampered, but loved."
This fascinating talk illumined the depth an complexity of a seemingly simple poem. As always, we sincerely thank Prof. Kee for his time and effort.
