Love of Words

Unitarians may not be People of the Book, like the Christians, Jews and Muslims, but we are surely the People of the Word.  Our worship services, our books, our magazines, our Wayside Pulpits, are all examples of how important we, as Unitarians, find words. Words that influence us, words that inspire us, words that make us think, words that challenge us, words which paint pictures of the wonder and beauty of the world. I would guess that the most well-read issues each year of our periodical, The Inquirer, are the two ‘Faith in Words’ issues, which are compilations of original words by Unitarians all over the country.

Unitarian minister Stephen Lingwood wrote, in his anthology, The Unitarian Life: Voices from the Past and Present, that, “We can pay attention to a cloud of witnesses from many different countries around the world and many different times in history. We can delve deep into the traditions of our spiritual ancestors and listen to their voices. In doing so, we can create a ‘living scripture’: a loose, dynamic collection of texts which brings together essential insights from the past and present of our movement.”

This lovely quotation shows that we are not limited to readings from a particular sacred text – we are free to create our own “living scripture” of readings that speak to our condition and that of our hearers. And so we do – many of the readings and prayers in our worship services have been written by Unitarians, past and present. Unitarian worship leaders are also free to choose any words they believe will have spiritual significance for us, which relate to the theme of the service.

And often, these words are poems. Someone once defined poetry as “the best words in the best order” and I have to agree. Poetry seems to be able to reach parts of people’s hearts and souls in a very special way, which prose does not generally share. The poems of John O’Donohue, William Stafford, Mary Oliver, Denise Levertov and others are frequently used in Unitarian worship services, as are the poems of more classical poets – Shakespeare, Wordsworth, Blake and so on. We are not limited to poems originally written in English either – thanks to the skills of contemporary translators. We find both wisdom and spiritual nourishment in the words of Kahlil Gibran, author of The Prophet, in those of the Sufi poets Hafiz and Rumi, in the poetry of the Bohemian-Austrian poet, Rainer Maria Rilke and in the words of Rabindranath Tagore, the "Bard of Bengal", who died 80 years ago this week.

Whichever flavour of spiritual poetry you enjoy, there is little doubt in my mind that reading these poets (and others) can nourish our souls. To quote Unitarian minister, Cliff Reed, let us "give thanks for all the honest, healing wordsmiths of the world."

Overwhelmed By Words

A few years ago, I discovered how incredibly beautiful and moving religious poetry could be. I had already had intimations of this, from reading Kahlil Gibran as a student, but during Unitarian Summer School in 2010, I was introduced to the poetry of Hafiz, the 14th century Persian Sufi mystic, and to that of Rainer Maria Rilke, the Bohemian-Austrian poet, who wrote in the early 20th century.

They both absolutely blew me away. Only when reading the poetic prose of Gibran's The Prophet had I encountered anything like it. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of their words, which pointed to a new way of connecting with the divine, which had never occurred to me. Most of the religious poetry that I knew was by the metaphysical poets, such as John Donne and George Herbert, from the late 16th and early 17th centuries, or the grand and serious stanzas of Milton's Paradise Lost. Some of it is beautiful, but oh so very orthodox.

We are very fortunate in the 21st century, to have gifted translators and editors, who are able to convert the Persian of Hafiz, and the German of Rilke, into wonderfully lyrical English, without losing the sense of the original. Daniel Ladinsky in the case of Hafiz, and Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy for Rilke. Their translations are masterpieces, and contribute hugely to the enjoyment and pleasure I have received from reading them.

Although both authors may be described as religious / spiritual poets, their poetry is not the same. Apart from in the erotic Song of Solomon in the Hebrew Bible, I had not come across the idea of God or the Divine (however you like to refer to Him/Her/It) as the Beloved, the object of the worshipper's love. It is a concept that is central in the poetry of both Hafiz and his fellow Persian mystic, Rumi, and I find it refreshing.

Hafiz's relationship with his God can only be described as intimate. His God is not some remote, cold, judgemental Being in Heaven, but a warm, loving, teasing Presence. The companionship of this Beloved God is a matter of joy and happiness - much of the poetry speaks of laughing and dancing and singing and playing music. Sometimes he is talking about his own relationship with god, and sometimes offering advice to the reader, in the guise of a guide, who can lead him or her to "the Beloved's tent." There is much gentle good advice in Hafiz's words. Reading his words has taught me that religious poetry does not have to be solemn and serious, and that loving yourself and others is the straightest way to God.

Rainer Maria Rilke is more overtly serious in his approach to God than Hafiz, but in my favourite book of his Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, there is the same intimacy, the same longing for union with the Divine, and the same belief that this is possible, for human beings, here and now. The edition I own has the German text on the left hand pages, and the English on the right, which is lovely for me. I have a little German, and having read the English first, can then turn to the original and savour it.

However, that is not the reason why I love this book so much. It is the warm connection between the poet and God which runs through all the poems - sometimes it is God speaking, sometimes the poet. But like Hafiz, there is a closeness, a familiarity with the Divine in Rilke's words, which is so delicious to read.  Rilke has a personal and close relationship with god. There is no feeling that God is Up There, or Over There, or Somewhere Else. God is Here and Now and Everywhere. it is a relationship based on love, rather than judgement. I find it exhilarating.

Since that time, I have learned that these two are not as alone and singular as I first thought. I have come to know and love the poetry of people such as John O'Donohue, William Stafford, Mary Oliver, and Denise Levertov. But I will always be grateful to that Summer School, for introducing me to such wonderful poetry, which feeds my soul.

The Consolations of Poetry

This blog-writing business is hard work. Sometimes the inspiration doesn't come to order. Like this week. My mind has been distracted by the mundane, and my heart has not been open. So rather than having a big fat zero for an entry this week, I turn to a predictable source of consolation, poetry.

image: flickr.com

By a happy coincidence, one of my recent discoveries, William Stafford, was born 100 years ago this month, on 17th January 2014. I was introduced to his poetry by the wonderful Panhala blog, and by a friend on Facebook. So in honour of his centenary, a poem by William Stafford:

How These Words Happened

In winter, in the dark hours, when others

were asleep, I found these words and put them

together by their appetites and respect for

each other. In stillness, they jostled. They traded

meanings while pretending to have only one.

Monstrous alliances never dreamed of before

began. Sometimes they last. Never again

do they separate in this world. They die

together. They have a fidelity that no 

purpose or pretense can ever break.

And all of this happens like magic to the words

in those dark hours when others sleep.

The Power of Poetry

Somebody once defined poetry as "the best words in the best order" and I have to agree. I have just been introduced to the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (specifically his Book of Hours: Love Poems to God in a lovely translation by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy) and have been blown away by them.

Rainer Maria Rilke



So many beautiful images, which really speak to my condition. Reading slowly through the book this morning was a huge pleasure, and I feel spiritually nourished. Let me share just one of his poems:

"I live my life in widening circles

that reach out across the world.

I may not complete this last one

but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.

I've been circling for thousands of years

and I still don't know: am I a falcon,

a storm, or a great song?"

Most of the poems are quite short, but are deceptively deep, conjuring up some beautiful images of the relationship between God and humankind. The only other poet who has had this effect on me is Hafiz, the great 14th century Sufi master, whose poetry is likewise intimate and challenging at one and the same time. And I am filled with gratitude for this gift.

Dear God,
Thank you for giving us the power to create,
and to share with each other,
words which delight and inspire.

And thank you for poets,
whose words can ravish our hearts and minds,
shaking up our images of the world,
so that they fall in a new and different pattern,
enriching our lives.
Amen