One of the reasons that I have drawn our attention thus far to the sheer enjoyment that comes from the playfulness, refreshment, or voltage of language is because in addition to the ability to break us open poetry has the capacity to retrieve for us the experience of pleasure. To say that theology needs poetry is to suggest among other things that theology needs to be reintroduced to the primal experience of pleasure. Andrew Greeley used to say to Catholics about being at Mass, “You know, it’s okay to enjoy yourself.”
If, as the liturgist Nathan Mitchell maintains, before the word liturgy means “the work of the people” it signifies the work of God, then the first liturgy, the original poetry slam, was the extravagant poem God spoke into being and the first response was divine delight captured in the refrain, “And God saw that it was good.” Tellingly, it is impossible while experiencing delight to be embarrassed or self-conscious. Enjoyment and delight are by nature moments of extended self-forgetfulness. And yet, it is often in such moments, however fleeting, that we are most ourselves. There is neither artifice nor apology.
Lest we miss it, the inference is that as images of God we resemble and make present the aliveness of the divine in these moments of delight, enchantment, and enjoyment.
Here is a poem by Richard Brautigan that I have loved and enjoyed since I was in college. It delighted me then. It delights me now even more as the distance increases from those days in an all-boys, Marcia-less Catholic high school.
Gee, You’re So Beautiful That It’s Starting to Rain
Oh, Marcia,
I want your long blonde beauty
to be taught in high school,
so kids will learn that God
lives like music in the skin
and sounds like a sunshine harpsicord.
I want high school report cards
to look like this:
Playing with Gentle Glass Things
A
Computer Magic
A
Writing Letters to Those You Love
A
Finding out about Fish
A
Marcia’s Long Blonde Beauty
A+!
To consciously and conscientiously wake up each day and set out on this ongoing sacred journey is to live between two mistaken paths or pathologies: hedonism and Puritanism, both of which are faulty because they take the self too seriously. The task of theology, and the gift of poetry, is to make the connection between Marcia’s long blonde beauty and God who lives like music in the skin.
So here’s the deal. When you set out each day remember to include on your “things to do” list Marcia’s (or Mark’s) long blonde beauty or fish-learning or a letter sent with love or the gift of sunlight because it is easy to forget “that,/ among your duties, pleasure/ is a thing,/ that also needs accomplishing.”(from Tony Hoagland’spoem immediately below)
The Word
Down near the bottom
of the crossed-out list
of things you have to do today,
between “green thread”
and “broccoli” you find
that you have penciled “sunlight.”
Resting on the page, the word
is beautiful, it touches you
as if you had a friend
and sunlight were a present
he had sent you from some place distant
as this morning — to cheer you up,
and to remind you that,
among your duties, pleasure
is a thing,
that also needs accomplishing
Do you remember?
that time and light are kinds
of love, and love
is no less practical
than a coffee grinder
or a safe spare tire?
Tomorrow you may be utterly
without a clue
but today you get a telegram,
from the heart in exile
proclaiming that the kingdom
still exists,
the king and queen alive,
still speaking to their children,
– to any one among them
who can find the time,
to sit out in the sun and listen.
in joy your day
A+
Dan