This World is not Conclusion

Monk by the Sea by Casper David Friedrich

Now that we've given some nebulous introduction about our project, I'd like to share some of the poetry that we are working with.  This is a poem by Emily Dickinson, called "This World is not Conclusion," which I am currently setting to music:

This World is not Conclusion.

A Species stands beyond --

Invisible, as Music --

But positive, as Sound --

It beckons, and it baffles --

Philosophy, don't know --

And through a Riddle, at the last --

Sagacity, must go --

To guess it puzzles scholars --

To gain it, Men have borne

Contempt of Generations

And Crucifixion, shown --

Faith slips -- and laughs, and rallies --

Blushes, if any see --

Plucks at a twig of Evidence --

And asks a Vane, the way

Much Gesture, from the Pulpit --

Strong Hallelujahs roll --

Narcotics cannot still the Tooth

That nibbles at the soul --

I want to just highlight a couple of the things that are striking to me about the poem.

First, Dickinson talks about there being a 'Species' that stands beyond this world, something that exists in a positive sense, and yet cannot be seen with out human eyes.  Even though we cannot see it, we can experience it...we can hear it.  To me, this poem calls to mind a passage from 1 Corinthians 13, where Paul writes:

Love never ends.  But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end.  For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part; but when complete comes, the partial will come to an end.  When I was a child, I spoke like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to my childish ways.  For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face.  Now I know only in part; then I will now fully, even as I have been fully known.  And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love.

What St. Paul -- and Emily Dickinson -- are referring to is the ultimate reality that underlies faith.  The substance of faith, the deep reality of God's own being, lies hidden from us.  We see and hear only hints, and all of our travail is but a striving towards the face of God, the invisible reality that beckons and baffles us, calling to us at the deepest core of our being.  Philosophy can't explain it, neither art nor poetry can fully express it, sagacity passes through a riddle that it never fully solves.  And yet, we still hear the call to move towards the invisible face of God, the invisible reality that underlies all that our minds and senses can know.  "Narcotics cannot still the Tooth/that nibbles at the soul."  Our lives are consumed by the desire to experience God and give birth to him in the world.  He is the 'Hound of Heaven' that chases us.

And the call to run towards this beckoning reality, as St. Paul points out, is the call to love.  Love is the end of all things, and all of earthly reality is but a striving towards the love of God.

At the top of this post, I included the painting Monk by the Sea by Casper David Friedrich.  I did this for a couple of reasons: first, the monk stands at the crux of one world (the sand) and another (the sea), just as we stand at the crux of earthly and heavenly realities.  Of deeper significance, however, is the vocation of a monk.  At the heart of religious life, one finds celibacy, which is itself a prophetic witness to the overwhelming power of the love of God.  The celibate does not reject the love of this world, but rather acknowledges it to be a love that is but a sign of the love of God.  As such, the celibate chooses to live a life of constant waiting for the fulfillment of the heavenly reality, constantly striving to live in contemplation of that Species that stands beyond this world, in constant touch with the Tooth that nibbles at his soul, in a life of love that slowly approaches the Love of God.

Deus Caritas Est.