During Lent I have been enjoying revisiting the poetry of George Herbert. If you’ve never heard of him allow me to briefly introduce him.
George Herbert was born into a wealthy family in 1593. In his 30s he decided to turn his back on his comfortable life and became a priest in the Church of England. He was given the care of a rural parish just outside of Salisbury. He was noted for unfailing care for his parishioners, taking them communion when they were ill and providing food and clothing for those in need.
His parishioners loved him, but unbeknown to them he had a secret passion – writing poetry. He wrote regularly and, for much of his life, very few knew a single poem he had written.
Shortly before his death he sent a friend a bundle of his manuscripts instructing him to read them, and decide if there was any merit in them. If they were deemed of little value his friend was told to burn them, but if he thought they might be of interest to others he was given permission to publish them.
Fortunately, his friend chose the latter route, and George Herbert’s passionate Christian poetry entered into the public sphere. In some ways his poems (all of which draw on his faith) are like the Psalms. They are very ‘real’ in their approach to God and very raw and honest at times. Herbert always saw God as his friend, and as such felt able to complain and argue with him– as well as praise and worship him. He was always staggered by the fact that God could love him.
I recently read his poem ‘The Quiddity’. The word probably means something like ‘peculiarity’, and in the poem Herbert reflects on how his ‘peculiarity’ of writing poetry is of very low value in most people’s eyes. Here is the poem.
MY God, a verse is not a crown,
No point of honour, or gay suit,
No hawk, or banquet, or renown,
Nor a good sword, nor yet a lute.
It cannot vault, or dance, or play ;
It never was in France or Spain ;
Nor can it entertain the day
With a great stable or domain.
It is no office, art, or news ;
Nor the Exchange, or busy Hall :
But it is that which, while I use,
I am with Thee : and Most take all.
His reflection on the hours that he sits writing his poems is that, when compared to all of the popular pastimes of the day, to all of the business ventures going on in the world, to foreign travel and wars, his poetry is insignificant – a waste of time perhaps.
But, despite how others see his work, he has learned a great truth. Writing poetry is, for him, a doorway into God’s presence: ‘it is that, which will I use, I am with Thee’. His ‘Quiddity’ is therefore of the highest importance to him, however others may view it. The last three words are enigmatic, but maybe suggest something like, ‘I just can’t lose’: I’m doing something I love AND I get to encounter God at the same time!
I, and countless others, am grateful that Herbert pursued his passion, and kept finding God through writing his poems. But is has made me think and ask the question: ‘what is my Quiddity’? What is that I love to do because it makes God feel especially close to me?
And what is that for you?
Some people love to meet God in their creative gifts; some meet him in study, others in the countryside and others again in the company of others. What is it that ‘while you use’ it, you just know that you are with God? And are you making sure that you do enough of that thing – even if to others, it seems of little importance?