Commemorating George Herbert

It is widely agreed that George Herbert (1593-1633), who is commemorated this week in the Church calendar, was one of the greatest poets of the seventeenth century. Belonging to that storied group Samuel Johnson called the ‘Metaphysical poets,’ he figures most especially as one of the greatest devotional poets in the English language.

He was the fifth son born of Richard Herbert and Magdalen, the daughter of Sir Richard Newport, in Montgomery Castle on April 3, 1593. He was educated at Westminster School and at Trinity College, Cambridge, graduating B.A. and went on to become in 1615 a Major Fellow of the College, and in 1619, Orator for the University. 

His father was a member of parliament, a justice of the peace, and later served for several years as custos rotulorum (keeper of the rolls) of Montgomeryshire, while his mother was a patron and friend of John Donne and other poets, writers, and artists. And it was this background that enabled him to enjoy the favor of James I, while fostering connections with a number of public figures such as Lord Bacon, Bishop Andrewes, and other men of influence. Despite his favor, and at one point serving as a Member of Parliament, his hopes of a public career were soon dashed after the death of the King, whereupon he retreated to Kent and proceeded to take Holy Orders. 

He was appointed by the Bishop of Lincoln to the Prebend of Leighton Ecclesia and to the living of Leighton Bromswold, Hunts, July 15, 1626 and then later became Rector to Bemerton, to which he was inducted, April 26,1630 and died in February,1632. 

The bare and simple entry in the register of Bemerton states “Mr. George Herbert, Esq., Parson of Foughleston and Bemerton, was buried 3 day of March 1632.” This is the antithesis of a life ending in showy achievement – and yet his inner life of Christian devotion is what, by means of his poetry, ensured his ultimate and widespread recognition. (And while many of his hymns have fallen from fashion, some of those do still endure such as “Let all the world in every corner sing”  and “Teach me, my God, and King.”

Indeed in this case, and in many, it is true that the sound Jesuit maxim that tells us there is a peculiar virtue in doing the ordinary extraordinarily well – which is what Herbert’s regular life as a “parson” seems to have embodied. So it is, that among the collects for the day each year when he is commemorated, we find one based on his poem “The Elixir,” which makes a point that is in this vein:

Our God and King, who called your servant George Herbert from the pursuit of worldly honors to be a pastor of souls, a poet, and a priest in your temple: Give us grace, we pray, joyfully to perform the tasks you give us to do, knowing that nothing is menial or common that is done for your sake … Amen

But as Herbert’s subsequent fame tells us, this is not all that we should take from his story. 

For there is much to explore in his poetry which has real theological depth. One example of this comes from his so-called “Shaped Poems”: “The Altar” and “Easter Wings.” The former work can perhaps serve here to illustrate his gifts and more specifically his talent for engaging with theology and sacramental theology, while even the very shape of the poem on the page speaks to us also! 

A broken ALTAR, Lord, thy servant rears,

Made of a heart and cemented with tears:

Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;

No workman’s tool hath touch’d the same.

A HEART alone

Is such a stone,

As nothing but

Thy pow’r doth cut.

Wherefore each part

Of my hard heart

Meets in this frame,

To praise thy name:

That if I chance to hold my peace,

These stones to praise thee may not cease.

Oh, let thy blessed SACRIFICE be mine,

And sanctify this ALTAR to be thine.

There is a quite detailed internal narrative articulating the meaning of this poem. 

First, there is the fact that it presents an Old Testament altar rather than a church altar. It is constructed of stones of natural shape, and of those cut by God rather than his human creatures. There is no cement except the natural cement of tears: “No workman’s tool hath touched the same.” But then, in a yet deeper sense, ultimately the altar is Herbert’s heart, which is however itself no soft thing but instead a stone so hard “As nothing but Thy pow’r doth cut.” While in one further sense the altar is the poem itself: “this frame, To praise thy name.” 

But there is more, for we have to remember too that in the Old Testament, the altar, made of natural stone, unshaped by human hands, was the literal base for sacrifices. And we should recall that, in the case of Isaac, there was a substitute ram provided by God. So, in turn, in the case of Herbert’s altar, which is his heart but also his poetry, this poetry can only take on its true meaning when God’s sacrifice of His Son is placed upon it; whereupon the altar is sanctified for God’s use. 

It should be no surprise that this poem is the first poem in Herbert’s collection: “The Church.” In that volume, much as the altar is the center of an Anglo-Catholic church, so for Herbert too is it in his poetry – a means through which God’s grace is able to appear central to Herbert’s plan for the whole book of poems.

Now perhaps – albeit in a very short compass – we can see the sense in which Herbert went straight to the heart of Anglican Eucharistic thought and the definition of a sacrament: “The outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.” And thus too do we see how Herbert stands as such a powerful author not merely of metaphysical but very Anglican sacramental poetry.

The Rev. Canon Alistair Macdonald-Radcliff
Rector