This week marks the beginning of Lent. As we are fully aware, Lent is a season of
penitence and conversion. It is a season
of sobriety and reflection. It is not a season for flowers and alleluias. It is, apparently, a season lacking in joy
and humor—for where is there a basis for joy if one is piously penitent? But
perhaps that is erroneous thinking. Just because the season calls for
introspection, reflection, and a soul-deep strengthening of one’s relationship
with God, does not stand to reason a
lack of humor and joy. In fact, I rather
suspect that a sincere effort at deepening one’s relationship with God—even if
through penitence—is bound to bring one joy.
Even in Lent. I turn to John Donne as a case in point.
The very first hymn in our hymnal for the season of Lent is
“A Hymn to God
the Father,” a poem by John Donne.
John Donne had a genius for juxtaposing reverence with humor, and with a
little insider information, one can see that genius reflected in this poem.
Taken as a whole, the poem assumes an attitude of remorse: “Wilt thou forgive
that sin…which is my sin…though still I do deplore?” It is set to a hymn tune
called, oddly enough, Donne. It was composed purposely for
this poem by Donne’s contemporary, John Hilton (both lived from the late 16th
century to mid-17th century). Izaak Walton, another contemporary of
Donne’s who is renowned for his short biographies, remarked in his biography of
John Donne, “I have the rather mentioned this hymn for that he caused it to be
set to a most grave and solemn tune…” As it was written in the key of E minor,
it is indeed a doleful sounding tune. But as Walton continued to report, Donne
himself found the words of his poem sung during worship “…restored my thoughts
of joy…and quickened my grace of zeal and gratitude!”
John Donne by Isaac Oliver, 1616 |
John Donne wrote the poem while near death with a fever from
an epidemic that ravaged London in the early part of the 1600s. He is said to
recall periods of great joy and tranquility from reconciling himself to the
possibility of death during the delirium that overtook him during that illness. Hearing the hymn recalled him to that
joy. Certainly, the penitent words of
the poem suggest the voice of a dying man of faith who fears his own
unworthiness. But the ultimate stanza expresses the hope that all will be
forgiven and all fears relieved. Set against the first two plaintive stanzas of
“wilt thou forgive,” the final stanza does present a certain measure of joy—the
joy of one with absolute faith.
But Donne could also have been referring to more subtle
twists of humor injected into the poem. For instance, in the last line of the
first two stanzas, Donne writes, “When thou hast done, thou hast not done, for
I have more.” He’s referring to his own
capacity for sinning again and again, making God’s task of forgiving him a
formidable one. There is an arrogant
humor in the suggestion that John Donne can outlast even God’s endurance. But there’s more; John Donne effectively used
wordplay with both his name and that of his wife, Anne More. Recall that when
he wrote the poem, he thought he was dying. You should know, too, that his
beloved wife and mother of their twelve children together had died five years
earlier giving birth to their last child (who was stillborn). Now imagine the word “done” as an alternate
spelling for “Donne”[1]
and “more” meaning “More” and you have a whole new set of implications: just as
God thinks He’s finally taken Donne’s life, he has not, for John lives on to
sin again. Further, even if God does
call John Donne to Heaven, He still doesn’t have him, for he writes “I have
More”, implying he expects to be reunited with Anne before meeting his Maker.
Of course, then there’s the reminiscence of all his youthful indiscretions to
which the poem refers that might be the cause of his joy at hearing the hymn.
Since the poem was written in the first person, it must have been amusing for
Donne listen to congregations of former Puritans confessing his licentious
behavior! The second stanza even suggests a deliberate manipulation of these
people when he confesses “…that sin by which I won others to sin…”
I prefer the first explanation for Donne’s joy at hearing A
Hymn to God the Father. There is a
gratifying comfort in abiding faith that comes from the assurance that God’s
forgiveness is a sure thing, manifested through Jesus Christ. As John Donne witnessed, there is joy in
Lent!
[1] This
wordplay is not unprecedented. John and Anne married secretly in 1601 against
the wishes of her family. Not only did John not receive her dowry, which forced
them to live in penury, but he and the priest who married them and the man who
witnessed the wedding were imprisoned until the marriage was proven valid. While in prison, John wrote a letter to Anne
and signed it, “John Donne, Anne Donne, Un-Done.”
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