THE SACRIFICE OF PRAISE.
Middleton, David
William Baer, Psalter: A Sequence of Catholic Sonnets (Kirksville,
MO: Truman State University Press, 2011)
Psalter is a collection of fifty-five sonnets that dramatically
retell significant events in the Bible, from Genesis through Revelation.
These sonnets are grouped according to five subdivisions within the two
Testaments that make up the Bible: three from the Old Testament (The
Pentateuch, The Law, and The Writings) and two from the New Testament
(The Gospel and Acts, Epistles, Revelation). The title of each sonnet is
followed by a reference to the biblical passage in which it is rooted.
Readers who would like to read such passages should note--as the
book's subtitle would imply--that the translation of the Bible used
here is the Douay-Rheims, which differs from Protestant Bibles in the
names and numberings of some of its books, chapters, verses, and the
spelling of some proper names. (Baer is Roman Catholic.) What the poet
has attempted here is nothing less than a comprehensive biblical
narrative with a scope recalling that of an epic poem.
Baer entitles his book Psalter, a psalter being a book containing
all the psalms and at times other related material. In the Middle Ages,
psalters were beautifully made and often richly illuminated. Their use,
both in the past and in our own time, has been either in public worship
or in private devotion. As an example of the medieval bookmaker's
art, psalters combine beauty, truth, and goodness in their aesthetic and
theological dimensions. At their best, through words alone, Baer's
sonnets do the same.
Psalms, of course, is a book of 150 poems in the Old Testament. The
word psalm means a work having to do with music, the words of songs, and
an accompanying instrument such as a harp or lyre. The psalms are also
both praises and prayers. More of the psalms are traditionally
attributed to King David than to any other author. The psalms are
normally divided into five sections (like Baer's own Psalter) and
range over the entire experience of the Jewish people. They include,
among others, psalms about God as creator and judge, coronation psalms,
psalms of lamentation, psalms pleading for protection, psalms about the
history of Israel, and psalms of thanksgiving for the law and for
God's love. Baer addresses many of the subjects of the psalms as
discovered in the biblical episodes he recounts in his own
sonnet-psalms. Thus Baer's "psalter" expands the range of
meaning of that term to include the whole epic-like narrative of the
Christian Bible, the greatest story ever told.
The first three groupings of Baer's sonnets contain poems on
events from the Old Testament.
In the Pentateuch section, the reader journeys from Creation
through the Fall and its sad consequences and then on to the life and
works of Moses. The first poem, "Genesis," affirms the ex
nihilo (out of nothing) theory of creation: everything that exists, even
matter itself, began in the mind of God and was realized by God saying
the name of the thing thus made: "a corporal universe, with dark
and light, / with stars, and with a whirling spot of blue, / with
countless creatures of the day and the night[.]"
The following poems--"Snake," "Eve," and
"Adam"--retell the story of the Temptation and the Fall.
Baer's ability to bring alive characters that speak for themselves
is evident in "Snake" when Satan as the snake says to Adam and
Eve: "Become as gods, transform to something new; / put hiss in
your voice and fork your tongue in two. In "Eve" the first
couple descends into a fallen world that is still "lovely"
like Eden, but "the sun's burning too bright in a world
replete / with thorns and sweat, thistles, and dust-thou-art."
(Baer has a liking for hyphenated phrases throughout this collection.)
In the fallen world Adam must continue the naming of things that he
began in Eden by finding a new word for the fate of his son Abel:
"'death '" ("Adam").
Life in a fallen state is a mixture of further degradation tempered
by the occasional act of selfless heroism. Baer is frank and direct in
"Sodom": he adheres to the traditional interpretation that
homosexual acts led to Sodom's destruction. In the poem we see
things from the perspective of Lot's sons-in-law, skeptical of
Lot's warning to flee: "Surely no flashes of fire will rain
from the sky, / incinerate this city and ignite / us all to fiery
nothingness to die / within some horrid smoke-and-sulfur night: / our
ashes whirling amid the charred debris, / then flushed with sludge in
the filthy Sodom Sea."
The prophetic tone and the clear analogy to the postbiblical
morality of the modern world demonstrate that Psalter is not simply the
Bible rhymed but a work with direct contemporary applications and
implicit references to the present day.
Balancing "Sodom" is "Judah," a poem in which
one of Joseph's brothers offers to stay in Egypt in place of
Benjamin, so greatly loved by their father, Jacob. Joseph, a
prophet-like interpreter of dreams, foresees that the self-sacrificing
Judah "... will give his name / to the largest tribe, the kingdom,
and the race, / which will pro-generate the Virgin's son, /
Who'll sacrifice Himself for everyone."
The Pentateuch section closes with four poems concerning Moses:
"Moses," "Tetragrammaton," "Pharaoh," and
"Core." The first of these poems tells how Pharaoh's
daughter drew the baby Moses from the water and senses his
world-changing destiny. "Tetragrammaton" defends the doctrine
of monotheism and the definition of God as pure being, truths revealed
by God to Moses. "Tell the Israelites: I am who I am, I ... 11 am
he who will be, and is, and was; / I am 'being itself':
mysterious, strange, / perfect, and kind, who did, and always does, /
without beginning or end, and without change." In
"Pharaoh," Baer recounts the story of the plagues of Egypt from the viewpoint of Pharaoh, who, as he endures the three days of
darkness, comforts his son (soon to die in the final plague that will
kill the firstborn): "he ... tightly holds his son, / thinking,
within their obsidian abyss, / 'Surely, nothing could be worse than
this." In "Core," the rejection of Moses's authority
by the Israelites in the desert is perhaps analogous to divisions within
Christendom and the rejection by some believers of papal authority.
The second grouping of poems on Old Testament themes is The Law.
Israel's demand for a king and that demand's unforeseen
consequences are made clear in the first three poems. In
"David," the shepherd-poet-warrior speaks while hiding from
the anger of Saul: "hunted by the king, like a treacherous slave, /
without my friends, my brothers, or my wife, / just waiting to be
slaughtered in my cave." Then King Saul is seen turning--against
the teachings of the Law--to a witch for help ("Endor"),
though in the end he is killed, decapitated, and his headless corpse
"... strung up high, before the day is done, / to rot beneath the
Galilean sun."
In his turn, Solomon, wise builder of the Temple of the Lord,
succumbs to his foreign wives and erects a temple to Chamos--"some
pagan god"--haunted by having abandoned God's great gift to
him of "a perfect unfailing sense of right and wrong"
("Solomon"). Elijah, retreating to Mount Sinai, seems to be
the last prophet left who has not gone over to Baal, yet his distress is
relieved when God visits him there, though not in wind, earthquake,
storm, or fire but in "... a whisper in the air, / the small still
voice of love. And God is there" ("Elijah").
This section closes with poems on a Syrian general who found faith
in Israel's God by being healed of leprosy in the Jordan
("Naaman") and one who reveled in self-regard and evil and
whose prophesied end finally came to be: "that dogs would eat the
scented flesh of the dead, / and those who passed-on-by would see / the
dog dung in the field and smell the smell / and ask 'Is that the
beauty Jezebel?" ("Jezebel").
The third and final grouping of Old Testament poems is The
Writings. These poems depict biblical characters trying to fulfill the
Law and maintain faith in God even in the direst of circumstances. In
"Tobias" and "Judas Machabeus," which poems begin
and end this section, leaders either bury the Jewish dead in defiance of
the kings of Assyria (Tobias) or give a proper burial to other such dead
even though they had violated the law by wearing "forbidden amulets
and charms" (Judas Machabeus). In between these poems are sonnets
about Job, the Messiah of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and Daniel. Job comes to
realize that fear of the Lord is a good thing, for only through fear can
the soul be released from fear, fear thus becoming"... its own
reward, which is also wise, is faith, is hope, is peace, / is tender
mercy, over and over again, / until, at last, is love, is love.
Amen" ("Job").
"Isaiah" is a sonnet-psalm of praise and rejoicing for
the Messiah yet to come. Baer powerfully evokes Isaiah's gradual
realization that the prophecy of a Virgin Birth and the sacrificial
death of the Lamb of God are about nothing less than
"'Emmanuel" (God is with us): "Because the child to
come, the masterpiece, / whose holy name shall be forever known / Is
'God, the Mighty,' 'God, the Prince of Peace.' / For
God will come and dwell on David's throne, / and when this savior,
finally, reveals his name, / He's
God-Himself-forever-and-the-same." Other prophetic witnesses to
God's power and providential design slowly unfolding in human
history include Jeremiah, who sits "kin the smoldering ashes of
Zion" lamenting the city's fall yet also firm in his faith
that "... despite what Zion has become, / I sit in the ashes and
wait for Him-to-come" ("Jeremiah"). Just so, Daniel,
passing the night in the den of (for now) peaceful lions, knows what is
in store for his accusers the next day: "when the King will find
him safe ... / he'll turn against the Prophet's enemies / and
toss them into the den, into the pit, / whose cries will screech and
wail like a heathen hymn, / as the gentle cats rip them limb from
limb" ("Daniel").
The reader of these Old Testament sonnets is left, much like the
reader of the Old Testament itself; with the conviction that--despite
the witness of certain heroes and prophets--only a radical intervention
by God in human history, in accordance with Isaiah's longings,
offers any permanent hope for human beings groping blindly through time,
unable to adhere firmly and consistently to the Law and the Writings,
wandering farther and farther from God in the ever darkening shadows
that began with the Pentateuch's story of the Fall.
Sonnets about such divine intervention as related in the New
Testament are in two groupings: the Gospel and Acts, Epistles,
Revelation.
The Gospel section contains twenty-five of the fifty-five sonnets
in Psalter, making it by far the largest of the five groupings of poems.
Baer takes us from the Annunciation through the Crucifixion and a
post-Resurrection appearance of Christ to his disciples. iheotokos"
presents Mary as the seemingly "obscure Jewish girl" destined
to say yes to God and become the God-bearer (Theotokos) of Christ
"humbly accepting she-knows-not-what, / singing her silent
Magnificat." In both "Visitation" (Mary and Elizabeth)
and "Centurion," Baer affirms the sanctity of all human life
beginning in the womb: the unborn John--"... her own and living and
unborn child"--leaps in Elizabeth's womb when the also
expectant Mary draws near, and a centurion charged by Herod with killing
Hebrew children is struck with guilt when he recalls his mother's
voice from the past saying, "Whoever injures a child is a fiendish
thing[.]"
"Wizard" is spoken by one of the Wise Men who is overawed
by the Christ Child. The other two Magi have given the child gold for
his kingship and myrrh for his humanity, while the speaking Wise Man,
for Christ's divinity, "... was ... the blessed and lucky
one,! who gave the frankincense to Mary's son." Mary's
serenity during the flight into Egypt is hauntingly captured in
"Egypt," spoken by Joseph, who worries for the family as
"... Mary smiles and sings to calm our fears / a song that seems
the music of the spheres."
Other poems, such as "Love Your Enemies," address
Christ's radical teachings. A listener to Christ exclaims:
"Did he really say that? Never despise / our enemies? ... I... /
Instead, do good to them. And pray for them. / And love them in your
pains, in your disgrace, / even when they spit into your face." In
"The Narrow Gate," Christ says unequivocally that"...
only a few / are chosen to enter paradise / ... / So come to the feast
when you hear the wedding bell," a dominical rebuke of what in the
present day is a drift toward universalism in salvation. Against such
teachings stand the Sadducees, who declare themselves to be "the
subtle freethinkers of Palestine[.] / ... / We're rationalists: we
doubt, we probe, we pry, / we study the part, we scrutinize the whole. /
We dismiss the afterlife and we deny / the angels and the immortality of
the soul." The application of this poem to certain modern thinkers
and schools of thought is clear.
The Roman Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation is presented and
defended in two sonnets: "Eat My Flesh" and "HOC EST CORPUS MEUM" (This is my body). Baer quotes Christ in the first of
these poems--"I am the living bread"--and argues that Christ
"didn't equivocate, / or mollify, or cleverly intermesh / his
metaphors" ("Eat My Flesh"). In the second poem, Baer is
even more forceful: "Hoc est. This is. Not 'like,' or
'as,' or 'for,' / and not a symbol or similitude, /
and not a figure or a metaphor. I... / The body is His. The body's
flesh is His. / Hoc estenim, this is, this is, this is." Another
traditional teaching defended is the Petrine doctrine. Christ founds his
church on Peter (also called Cephas--the Rock).. This is Christ's
undivided church: "My church is one, is holy, is sublime, /
protected until the very end of time" ("Peter").
As the poems move into the last days before the Crucifixion, Baer
takes us to the Mount of Olives and the Garden of Gethsemane. The title
poem, "Psalter," finds Christ and the disciples before the
ascent of Mount Olive "singing the psalms, under their melodic
spell, / the Hallel psalms, the canticles of praise, / and Jesus sang
the words he knew so well, / taught to him by Mary in his childhood
days, / ... / 'I will raise up the chalice of salvation,' /
singing to his Father, in these final days, / 'I sacrifice to thee
the sacrifice of praise." In "Gethsemani," Christ
reconciles himself to drinking "the bloody chalice of
agony"--an agony come from "the dreadful fact / that despite
his efforts from now to Pentecost, / not all the world will properly
react, / and many will still reject him and be lost. / And so, his
blood, like sweat, without a sound, / seeps through his flesh and
trickles to the ground." These two poems lie at the heart of
Psalter.
The Crucifixion itself is the main subject of just one poem,
"Eclipse," which is spoken by the thief who was crucified with
Jesus and was saved. The thief asks Christ to let him enter the Kingdom
and then says: "... the earth begins to shudder and sway, / but
salvation is right beside me, even now, / above the abyss, at the shores
of the River Styx, / dying, like me, on a Roman crucifix." The
Styx/crucifix rhyme is brilliant not only technically but also as a way
of saying that Christ superseded and thus brought an end to the false
mythological gods of the Roman world by dying, in of all ways, as a
disgraced criminal. The Gospel section ends with The Upper Room," a
poem in which the risen Christ appears to the disciples, tells them to
receive the Holy Spirit, and prepares them further to study, understand,
and spread the gospel and to build Christ's church in the world.
This poem is a skillfully placed transition into the final grouping of
poems in Psalter.
The second section of poems concerning the New Testament is Acts,
Epistles, Revelation. In these sonnets Baer recounts the disseminating
of the gospel, especially by Paul, and the teachings of Paul and James.
In "Ethiopian," a "mighty minister of the Queen" who
is puzzling over a passage of Isaiah foretelling the coming of the
Suffering Servant, or Messiah, is assisted by Philip: "So Philip
explained, beneath the Gaza skies, / and the truths of the world opened
before their eyes." In "Love," the Pauline doctrine
recorded in 1 Corinthians is beautifully evoked: "Love thinks no
evil, it thinks no wrong, / it hopes, believes, endures, prevails, /
love envieth not, it suffereth long, / it never turns, it never fails. /
Have love, have faith, have hope, again and again, / but Love is the
greatest of these. Amen."
Complementing the teachings in "Love" is
"James" wherein the importance of adding works to faith is
addressed: "So follow all the ten commandments, then / live the
beatitudes. Do as they say, / remember that when Jesus comes again, /
he'll judge us 'by our works on Judgment Day. / Don't
listen to the vipers. Don't be misled. / Remember that faith
without good works is dead." The last three poems of this section
and of the whole Book are "Lukewarm," "Patmos," and
"The New Jerusalem," all based on passages in Revelation
(Apocalypse). "Lukewarm" is about John's admonishment of
the Laodiceans for being neither hot nor cold in their faith (something
cold being refreshing and something hot being medicinal): "This is
not the time to turn away, / to hesitate, or make the easy choice, / or
be indifferent. Listen to what I say: / Be zealous. Alert. And hear my
voice. / I stand outside your door and knock. / Open the gate. Unlock
the lock." In "Patmos," John foresees the final
confrontation of Christ and Satan at the end of time: "... the
fallen Lucifer / ... looks at Christ with hate, with pride / in his
deceits, his lies, the sins he'd wrought, / and all the souls
destroyed and vilified / And then, the Lamb, with but a single thought,
/ casts off the sulfur-stinking hypocrite! into the flaming depths of
the bottomless pit."
In Psalter's final poem, "The New Jerusalem,"
Satan's Hell gives way to John's vision of the celestial city:
"a crystalline city, bathed in heavenly light, / adorned with every
kind of precious stone: / sapphire, emerald, topaz, aquamarine, /
amethyst, and jasper in a city of gold, / with the loving face of God,
the Nazarene." The poem closes with a warning by Christ to be ready
for his return: "... I'm coming fast: / The Alpha, the Omega,
the first, and the last." And thus comes to an end Baer's
poetic account of the Bible's story of the human journey from Eden
and the Fall into the historical world up to the Incarnation and then on
to the establishing of Christ's church on earth and at last to the
final gathering of the saved in a new and better paradise than Eden, the
New Jerusalem.
William Baer has won prestigious awards for previous collections of
verse including the T. S. Eliot Poetry Prize and the X. J. Kennedy
Poetry Prize. He has also made a major contribution to the revival of
traditional metrical poetry as editor of The Formalist: A Journal of
Metrical Poetry (1990-2004) and currently as contributing editor to
Measure: A Review of Formal Poetry (2005--present), headquartered at the
University of Evansville in Evansville, Indiana, where Baer holds an
endowed chair in English and American literature. Baer's deep
commitment to traditional verse as well as to the traditional values of
the Roman Catholic faith is fully evident in Psalter. The epigraph to
the whole collection is, appropriately, from the Psalms: Caeli enarrant
gloriam Dei. (The heavens are telling the glory of God.) The cover of
the book--Gustave's Dore's engraving "Abraham and the
Three Angels" (printed here against a red background)--also adds to
the effect of the book as a whole: both the Bible and Creation as holy
books that speak God's language and the ancient law of hospitality
that, in Abraham's case, led to the proper reception of three
visitors who turned out to be divine messengers from God himself. The
closing admonition of Psalter's final poem, "The New
Jerusalem," quoted above, rounds back nicely to the epigraph and
cover art.
Baer's goal in Psalter is an ambitious one: to retell
dramatically, from a Roman Catholic perspective, and in language often
simple and deep, like that of Scripture itself, the story of the Bible
in fifty-five sonnets on key episodes in that narrative. John
Milton's line in the Argument to book 1 of Paradise Lost comes to
mind--to pursue "Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime--although
Baer did not set out to write an epic poem but, more modestly, a
middle-length sequence of sonnets. Still, the reader can only wonder at
how much time and effort must have gone into researching and writing
these poems.
Baer's poems are not without flaws. There are sometimes minor
infelicities in rhyme, meter, rhythm, syntax, and diction, as well as in
the use of conventional or repeated expressions. Perhaps such are all
but unavoidable in so many sonnets on a single theme, however great that
theme may be, but the compensations that come from Baer's poetry at
its best (as it often is) are sufficient reward for the occasional
Homeric nod. Psalter would bring both delight and instruction to anyone
interested in contemporary religious poetry written in a traditional
literary form. The volume would also be an excellent text for an adult
education class, especially, but not exclusively, in a Roman Catholic
parish. As in the volume's title poem, "Psalter," Baer
has sung with both profound devotion and admirable poetic skill these
fifty-five sonnet-psalms that make up his own "sacrifice of
praise."
David Middleton is poetry editor of Modern. Age.