The Church, like her Lord and Lover, is possessed of many treasures. Some of these treasures are hidden, in the field; some are yet to be found, like the Lost Sheep; some treasures lie in the coded riddles that can be found in the Holy Scriptures; others, in church bells and cathedrals; yet others in gifts of healings, or in holy sacraments; yet more, in the secret prayers of her people, and in the lives of the saints. All of her treasures are blessed, and all of them, in their way, not only transcend the mortal world, but transform it.
I would like to say a word for her poets; and at this moment, one in particular -- William Blake.
It is a special grace that poets need not be, like Holy Scriptures (or the Pope), infallible. It is enough that they bring the truth, and the spirit, to lighten the mind and the heart. The rest, as they say, is up to God.
Eternity is in love with the productions of time, Blake said. And in that single phrase, if one can hear it, he eased away many puzzlements and resolved many poorly-formed "theological questions" that have perplexed church people, and others -- perplexed them, sometimes, for a lifetime, or for generations.
Eternity is in love with the productions of time. Of course the Holy Apostle (or was it Christ Himself?) had said it more thoroughly, more authoritatively, more substantially, long before, in Holy Scripture: God so loved the world.
I rejoice, with William Blake, that he found the grace to say it in his own words. Blessings be upon all the poets of God. They are truly among the treasures of Christ.
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You may enjoy two earlier posts:
Ben Carmack's Saint William Blake and my own William Blake, Charles Williams, And Anglican Spirituality.