The Pearl. (Matthew 13)
I know the ways of learning; both the head
And pipes that feed the press, and make it run;
What reason hath from nature borrowed,
Or of itself, like a good houswife, spun
In laws and policy; what the stars conspire,
What willing nature speaks, what forc'd by fire;
Both th'old discoveries and the new-found seas,
The stock and surplus, cause and history;
All these stand open, or I have the keys:
Yet I love thee.
I know the ways of honour; what maintains
The quick returns of courtesy and wit;
In vies of favours whether party gains
When glory swells the heart and moldeth it
To all expressions both of hand and eye,
Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie,
And bear the bundle wheresoe'er it goes;
How many drams of spirit there must be
To sell my life unto my friends or foes:
Yet I love thee.
I know the ways of pleasure; the sweet strains
The lullings and the relishes of it;
The propositions of hot blood and brains;
What mirth and music mean; what love and wit
Have done these twenty hundred years and more;
I know the projects of unbridled store;
My stuff is flesh, not brass; my senses live,
And grumble oft that they have more in me
Than he that curbs them, being but one to five:
Yet I love thee.
I know all these and have them in my hand;
Therefore not seeled but with open eyes
I fly to thee, and fully understand
Both the main sale and the commodities;
And at what rate and price I have thy love,
With all the circumstances that may move.
Yet through the labyrinths, not my grovelling wit,
But thy silk twist let down from heav'n to me
Did both conduct and teach me how by it
To climb to thee.
"Yet I love thee." Three times in this poem this disclaimer is protested by Herbert.
It isn't that God accuses him, or questions Herbert's love of God. There is self-accusation and protested love in every verse.
Three of the four verses of 'The Pearl' are in the form of confession, honest acknowledgement that when push comes to shove, and the choice is between the ways of God and the ways of the world, Herbert's heart has habitually chosen the ways of learning, honour and pleasure.
"Yet I love thee." That small contradictory conjunction, "yet", used as the first word of the last line, is a powerful braking system on an ego hell-bent on telling all, to his own disadvantage.
Because when all is said and done, the keys of learning, the glories of status, the five senses of pleasure, are not enough to withstand Herbert's sense of a Love more ingenious, glorious and joyous than all the self-advancing ways of the world, powerfully attractive as they are.
The last verse is an honest admission of experience taken to the full; whatever it is, Herbert has been there, done that, and it is not enough, can never be enough.
Compared to the treasures of the world, he "fully understands...at what price and rate I have thy love." That Love, is the pearl of greatest price, the Love that owns and commands his heart.
As always in Herbert, love is the key to the wild inner universe of the human heart, and to the God-loved brokenness of a world. It has taken divine Love to unlock the mystery of sin, using a cross shaped key.
"Yet I love thee." What right has someone like Herbert, to expect something for nothing, or at least something at no cost to himself? But even if he can't repay in kind, he will give what he has.
Immersed as he is in the ambiguities and compromises of everyday existence, getting on in life, focusing on what will bring learning, honour and pleasure, why would he bother with God? And why would God bother with him, more to the point?
As so often with Herbert, the answer is the prevenient grace and loving initiative of God:
Yet through the labyrinths, not my groveling wit,
But thy silk twist let down from heaven to me,
Did both conduct and teach me, how by it
To climb to thee.
In our own Lenten journey, there is much to learn here. Life is busy, demanding and tiring; we compromise, cut corners, make mistakes, try to do better; and in all the preoccupation of trying to make our lives work, we also try to be Christian, to love God, to pray. And often we fail.
We protest, "Yet I love thee." And God believes us!
"Thy silk twist let down from heaven" places the onus where it must be, upon the grace of God. God's love was there before we thought to ask for it; like Jacob's ladder joining earth to heaven, like a threefold cord (the Trinity) not easily broken, love has reached down and we climb by the ladder of Christ to the presence of God.
Herbert is the consoling poet par excellence.
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