Poems & Faith, part 1

I enjoy reading poetry. I don't read it all the time, but I do really love it. In particular, I love how much it says so compactly. I love its richness and simplicity and depth and playfulness. This is the first in an ongoing series that will explore poetry and faith in my own journey.

Fascinating and mercurial poet W.H. Auden was amazing. Amid all of his incredibly powerful poems, I find my mind and spirit resonating with one small haiku found with in his "Symmetries and Asymmetries" collection (ca. 1963-64). It is taut and simple:

"When he looked the cave in the eye,
Hercules,
Had a moment of doubt."

Perhaps it is my love of wordplay that finds fulfillment in this poem. I am drawn to the impossibility of looking an inanimate thing like a cave "in the eye." So odd, yet so plainly obvious is this phrase. Caves and dark places hold the mysterious nature upon which we tend to base some of our perceptions of person-hood. Why wouldn't someone look a cave in the eye?

Perhaps it is my love for Greek mythology--those spiraling narratives that speak in colorful and surprising ways toward an understanding of this world which is riddled with problematic inconsistency--that finds purchase in this verse. Born of a divine father (Zeus, no less) and an earthly mother (Alcmene), Hercules is one of the demigods--not quite fully gods, but so much more than mortals. Their stories of heroism and strength point up the best and worst of what both god and humanity are capable of.  To hear that Hercules is the one sizing up this cave and looking it into the eye brings to mind all the many caves mighty Hercules wandered into as he sought purpose and direction from the Oracle, or slew the hydra in Lerna, or drug the Cerberus from hell. Which of his labors could this poem be encountering?

Of all of this poem, it is the final phrase that speaks so loudly to me. Its honesty is crushing and freeing all at the same time. Hercules who was stronger and larger than any other human, who was immortal having nursed from Hera, who clothed himself in the impenetrable skin of the Nemean Lion, would seemingly never fear a fight. He is the champion of champions. The genius of Auden's haiku is that Hercules has a moment of sheer humanity. He looks the cave in the eye and for just one moment... he doubted.

It is almost as if Auden is playfully suggesting that humanity happens, even to the best of us.

I need to hear this from time. Not that I think I am a Hercules--I am not very strong, not very immortal, not very courageous honestly. But the truth is that I know that I am capable--by God's grace we are all stunningly capable. Yet, I somehow sell myself on the idea that because I am God's child and God is in me, I must be an unstoppable and undaunted force for good. After all, in Christ I have immortality in me. If God is for us, then who can stand against us? What shall I fear?

As much as I want to say, "Nothing! I fear nothing," The truth is that I cannot answer like that. I am doubting Hercules--assured of victory yet daunted in the face of such uncertainty. Like Jesus in Gethsemane, I know God's presence is with me, but I am still daunted by life's immense complexity and uncertainty. And, frankly, I am learning to let that be okay.

I am learning to accept that being available to God does not mean having a fearless faith, but rather having a surrendered and trusting heart in spite of all dreadful opposition.