Post by Atticus Pizzaballa on Mar 29, 2024 9:06:50 GMT -5
Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward
John Donne (1572-1631)
Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward
Let man's soul be a sphere, and then, in this,
Th' intelligence that moves, devotion is;
And as the other spheres, by being grown
Subject to foreign motion, lose their own,
And being by others hurried every day,
Scarce in a year their natural form obey;
Pleasure or business, so, our souls admit
For their first mover, and are whirl'd by it.
Hence is't, that I am carried towards the west,
This day, when my soul's form bends to the East.
There I should see a Sun by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget.
But that Christ on His cross did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
Who sees God's face, that is self-life, must die;
What a death were it then to see God die?
It made His own lieutenant, Nature, shrink,
It made His footstool crack, and the sun wink.
Could I behold those hands, which span the poles
And tune all spheres at once, pierced with those holes?
Could I behold that endless height, which is
Zenith to us and our antipodes,
Humbled below us? or that blood, which is
The seat of all our souls, if not of His,
Made dirt of dust, or that flesh which was worn
By God for His apparel, ragg'd and torn?
If on these things I durst not look, durst I
On His distressed Mother cast mine eye,
Who was God's partner here, and furnish'd thus
Half of that sacrifice which ransom'd us?
Though these things as I ride be from mine eye,
They're present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and Thou look'st towards me,
O Saviour, as Thou hang'st upon the tree.
I turn my back to Thee but to receive
Corrections till Thy mercies bid Thee leave.
O think me worth Thine anger, punish me,
Burn off my rust, and my deformity;
Restore Thine image, so much, by Thy grace,
That Thou mayst know me, and I'll turn my face.
www.journeywithjesus.net/poemsandprayers/539-john-donne-good-friday-riding-westward
Good Friday with John Donne
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Hebrews 10:16-25
John 18:1-19:42
Psalm 22
This morning I want to share with you a poem by one of the early Anglican poets, John Donne. He
wrote it about Good Friday in 1613, when he was riding west to Wales. It was on this ride that he
decided to take holy orders.
Although it was a holy day, Donne was travelling on business and so the poem begins with the
push-pull of the soul’s sphere and the other spheres of human life. I know that many of us
experience that conflict – we may want to be mystics, or at least have time for prayer and
contemplation but there always seems to be one thing more to do. I know that’s true of myself.
Even when I go on retreat to intentionally take time away, things crowd in that seem urgent. Donne
describes this by saying that our souls are whirled by the constant pressure of our outer lives.
Somehow I find it comforting that that was as true in the 17th century as it is today.
Because of the demands on him, Donne is travelling west when he thinks he should be turning
toward the East – toward the Holy Land and contemplation of the Cross. But he’s almost glad that
he doesn’t have to see the crucifixion – it would be too much weight to bear. We don’t, here at St
Ben’s, place as much emphasis on the horrors of the crucifixion as some other Christians do. But
today is the day to open our eyes, to spend a brief time looking clearly at the love of God suspended
on the cross, in agony. Suspended because that is what needed to happen so that we might be
reconciled with God and given the gift of new life.
I don’t think that God demanded the death of his son. I do think that it was the inevitable result if
God becoming human – that we could not stand it and tried to kill him. And that we continue to do
that in so many ways today. Not necessarily as individuals but in the way our collective works, the
sin matrix brings oppression and suffering. Jesus told us that as we do it for one of the least of these
so we do it to him – and that applies to oppression and corruption as much as it does to the good
stuff we try to do. Seeing how African-Americans and First Nation peoples are being devastated by
the coronavirus at a much faster rate than privileged white Americans, we see the results of the sin
matrix at work today.
But Donne focuses on the glory of God expressed through the cross – if it is impossible to see
God’s face then how much more difficult to see his death? Dare we look on the death of God?
Donne thinks it is too much to bear. But instead of abandoning the effort of Good Friday, he asks
that God will use this experience to sanctify him – to restore him in the original image of God.
And that I truly believe is the purpose of Good Friday – that we all may be made new, made perfect
in Christ, by grace be restored to the image of God which was our original blessing.
AMEN
stbenslososos.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Good-Friday-Sermon-2020-1.pdf
John Donne (1572-1631)
Good Friday, 1613. Riding Westward
Let man's soul be a sphere, and then, in this,
Th' intelligence that moves, devotion is;
And as the other spheres, by being grown
Subject to foreign motion, lose their own,
And being by others hurried every day,
Scarce in a year their natural form obey;
Pleasure or business, so, our souls admit
For their first mover, and are whirl'd by it.
Hence is't, that I am carried towards the west,
This day, when my soul's form bends to the East.
There I should see a Sun by rising set,
And by that setting endless day beget.
But that Christ on His cross did rise and fall,
Sin had eternally benighted all.
Yet dare I almost be glad, I do not see
That spectacle of too much weight for me.
Who sees God's face, that is self-life, must die;
What a death were it then to see God die?
It made His own lieutenant, Nature, shrink,
It made His footstool crack, and the sun wink.
Could I behold those hands, which span the poles
And tune all spheres at once, pierced with those holes?
Could I behold that endless height, which is
Zenith to us and our antipodes,
Humbled below us? or that blood, which is
The seat of all our souls, if not of His,
Made dirt of dust, or that flesh which was worn
By God for His apparel, ragg'd and torn?
If on these things I durst not look, durst I
On His distressed Mother cast mine eye,
Who was God's partner here, and furnish'd thus
Half of that sacrifice which ransom'd us?
Though these things as I ride be from mine eye,
They're present yet unto my memory,
For that looks towards them; and Thou look'st towards me,
O Saviour, as Thou hang'st upon the tree.
I turn my back to Thee but to receive
Corrections till Thy mercies bid Thee leave.
O think me worth Thine anger, punish me,
Burn off my rust, and my deformity;
Restore Thine image, so much, by Thy grace,
That Thou mayst know me, and I'll turn my face.
www.journeywithjesus.net/poemsandprayers/539-john-donne-good-friday-riding-westward
Good Friday with John Donne
Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Hebrews 10:16-25
John 18:1-19:42
Psalm 22
This morning I want to share with you a poem by one of the early Anglican poets, John Donne. He
wrote it about Good Friday in 1613, when he was riding west to Wales. It was on this ride that he
decided to take holy orders.
Although it was a holy day, Donne was travelling on business and so the poem begins with the
push-pull of the soul’s sphere and the other spheres of human life. I know that many of us
experience that conflict – we may want to be mystics, or at least have time for prayer and
contemplation but there always seems to be one thing more to do. I know that’s true of myself.
Even when I go on retreat to intentionally take time away, things crowd in that seem urgent. Donne
describes this by saying that our souls are whirled by the constant pressure of our outer lives.
Somehow I find it comforting that that was as true in the 17th century as it is today.
Because of the demands on him, Donne is travelling west when he thinks he should be turning
toward the East – toward the Holy Land and contemplation of the Cross. But he’s almost glad that
he doesn’t have to see the crucifixion – it would be too much weight to bear. We don’t, here at St
Ben’s, place as much emphasis on the horrors of the crucifixion as some other Christians do. But
today is the day to open our eyes, to spend a brief time looking clearly at the love of God suspended
on the cross, in agony. Suspended because that is what needed to happen so that we might be
reconciled with God and given the gift of new life.
I don’t think that God demanded the death of his son. I do think that it was the inevitable result if
God becoming human – that we could not stand it and tried to kill him. And that we continue to do
that in so many ways today. Not necessarily as individuals but in the way our collective works, the
sin matrix brings oppression and suffering. Jesus told us that as we do it for one of the least of these
so we do it to him – and that applies to oppression and corruption as much as it does to the good
stuff we try to do. Seeing how African-Americans and First Nation peoples are being devastated by
the coronavirus at a much faster rate than privileged white Americans, we see the results of the sin
matrix at work today.
But Donne focuses on the glory of God expressed through the cross – if it is impossible to see
God’s face then how much more difficult to see his death? Dare we look on the death of God?
Donne thinks it is too much to bear. But instead of abandoning the effort of Good Friday, he asks
that God will use this experience to sanctify him – to restore him in the original image of God.
And that I truly believe is the purpose of Good Friday – that we all may be made new, made perfect
in Christ, by grace be restored to the image of God which was our original blessing.
AMEN
stbenslososos.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/04/Good-Friday-Sermon-2020-1.pdf
