{"id":61325,"date":"2018-05-27T13:52:24","date_gmt":"2018-05-27T19:52:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/admin.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/?p=61325"},"modified":"2018-09-05T09:53:40","modified_gmt":"2018-09-05T15:53:40","slug":"two-poems-at-the-garden-tomb","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.patheos.com\/blogs\/danpeterson\/2018\/05\/two-poems-at-the-garden-tomb.html","title":{"rendered":"Two poems at the Garden Tomb"},"content":{"rendered":"<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC \"-\/\/W3C\/\/DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional\/\/EN\" \"http:\/\/www.w3.org\/TR\/REC-html40\/loose.dtd\">\n<html><head><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><meta http-equiv=\"content-type\" content=\"text\/html; charset=utf-8\"><\/head><body><p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<figure id=\"attachment_19295\" aria-describedby=\"caption-attachment-19295\" style=\"width: 596px\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\"><a href=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/186\/2015\/04\/800px-Jerusalem_Tomb_of_the_Garden.jpg\" class=\" decorated-link\" target=\"_blank\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\" wp-image-19295\" src=\"https:\/\/wp-media.patheos.com\/blogs\/sites\/186\/2015\/04\/800px-Jerusalem_Tomb_of_the_Garden.jpg\" alt=\"The tomb in the garden, or whatever\" width=\"596\" height=\"397\"><\/a><figcaption id=\"caption-attachment-19295\" class=\"wp-caption-text\">\u201cHe is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay.\u201d (Matthew 28:6) \u00a0The Garden Tomb, in East Jerusalem. \u00a0(Wikimedia Commons public domain image)<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\">A few days ago, in remarks that I shared with a group at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem, I shared a couple of poems that I find meaningful. \u00a0I\u2019ve shared each of them more than once here on this blog, but think that I\u2019ll do so yet again:<\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\"><strong>1.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\">I\u2019m very fond of the excellent second-tier English poet A. E. Housman (d. 1936), who, along with writing such works as \u201cTo an athlete dying young,\u201d from\u00a0<em>A Shropshire Lad<\/em>, was a distinguished\u00a0classicist at the University of Cambridge. \u00a0The melancholy mood of many of his poems speaks to me. \u00a0I\u2019ve even made a minor pilgrimage to his grave.<\/span><\/p>\n<div class=\"ad ad-container hidden-xs\"><span style=\"color: #993300;\">\u00a0<\/span><\/div>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Housman was an atheist, and sometimes a hostile one. \u00a0But he had moments of yearning. \u00a0This poem, entitled \u201cEaster Hymn,\u201d captures those feelings of longing for a belief that, in the end, he simply couldn\u2019t muster:<\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">If in that Syrian garden, ages slain,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">You sleep, and know not you are dead in vain,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Nor even in dreams behold how dark and bright<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Ascends in smoke and fire by day and night<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">The hate you died to quench and could but fan,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Sleep well and see no morning, son of man.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">But if, the grave rent and the stone rolled by,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">At the right hand of majesty on high<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">You sit, and sitting so remember yet<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Your tears, your agony and bloody sweat,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Your cross and passion and the life you gave,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Bow hither out of heaven and see and save.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Please bear in mind that, historically and classically, Syria included not only the contemporary nation that bears that name, but the areas today known as Jordan, Israel, and Lebanon. \u00a0So Jerusalem can, justly, be termed \u201cSyrian\u201d in a certain sense. \u00a0(It certainly wasn\u2019t in Israel when Housman wrote, because modern Israel didn\u2019t yet exist.)<\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\"><strong>2.<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Then I shared \u201cSeven Stanzas at Easter,\u201d by the late Pulitzer-Prize-winning American novelist John Updike (d. 2009):<\/span><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Make no mistake: if he rose at all<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> It was as His body;<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> If the cell\u2019s dissolution did not reverse, the molecule reknit,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> The amino acids rekindle,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> The Church will fall.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">It was not as the flowers,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Each soft spring recurrent;<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> It was not as His Spirit in the mouths and fuddled eyes of the<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Eleven apostles;<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> It was as His flesh; ours.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">The same hinged thumbs and toes<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> The same valved heart<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> That-pierced-died, withered, paused, and then regathered<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Out of enduring Might<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> New strength to enclose.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Let us not mock God with metaphor,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Analogy, sidestepping, transcendence,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Making of the event a parable, a sign painted in the faded<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Credulity of earlier ages:<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Let us walk through the door.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">The stone is rolled back, not papier-mache,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Not a stone in a story,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> But the vast rock of materiality that in the slow grinding of<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Time will eclipse for each of us<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> The wide light of day.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">And if we have an angel at the tomb,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Make it a real angel,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Weighty with Max Planck\u2019s quanta, vivid with hair, opaque in<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> The dawn light, robed in real linen<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Spun on a definite loom.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\">Let us not seek to make it less monstrous,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> For our own convenience, our own sense of beauty,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> Lest, awakened in one unthinkable hour, we are embarrassed<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> By the miracle,<\/span><\/strong><br>\n<strong><span style=\"color: #993300;\"> And crushed by remonstrance.<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: right;\">Posted from Paris, France<\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<p>\u00a0<\/p>\n<\/body><\/html>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>\u00a0 \u00a0 A few days ago, in remarks that I shared with a group at the Garden Tomb in Jerusalem, I shared a couple of poems that I find meaningful. \u00a0I\u2019ve shared each of them more than once here on this blog, but think that I\u2019ll do so yet again: \u00a0 1. \u00a0 I\u2019m very [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-61325","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v21.1 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>Two poems at the Garden Tomb<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"&nbsp; 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