[C]onstructing untested answers [will] tend to create more irritation than comfort[.]

Since suffering is experienced as a destruction that renders life meaningless, simplistic explanations trivialize the suffering. [...] For Job's so-called friends, Job's suffering was an occasion to construct their theology rather than an opportunity to express their love. They would not walk with him, co-suffer with him, pray with him for grace. Instead, they fit Job's suffering into a theological system that explained everything away.

And after the LORD had spoken these words to Job, the LORD said to Eliphaz the Temanite, "My anger blazes against you and your two friends! You have not spoken rightly concerning Me, as has My servant Job."

Okay, so if you look at the appendix of the Liturgy of the Hours, William Blake’s “The Divine Image” appears. And I’m thinking to myself, “Oh! My friend’s favorite Romantic poet is William Blake! He’ll get a kick out of this!” He got a bigger kick out of it than I was expecting, though, because it was originally published in a book called Songs of Innocence and of Experience; the ‘song of Innocence’ provides a worldview or outlook, and each has a corresponding ‘song of Experience’ that moderates or critiques the outlook. And he finds it funny, because the appendix only includes the Song of Innocence. Both poems in their entirety are below:

Kind of a big difference. First, we have a kind of ecumenical message going on; I’m sure C.S. Lewis would be critical of the formulation “x is God” rather than “God is x,” but putting that criticism aside a moment, I think it’s clear we’re supposed to be getting that God is Mercy, Pity, Peace, and Love, and in appealing to these concepts all are in some sense praying to God. And where these concepts exist, God exists in some sense too, and we must love these dwelling places of God, even “in heathen, Turk, or Jew.” A Christian inclusivism calling for the respect of the human being regardless of religion, if you will. Second, we have a much more pessimistic view; no more of talking about humans who appeal to Love, Mercy, and Peace, but humans who are Cruel, Jealous, Terrifying, and Secretive, with how these things affect others. A darker take on this whole business. ____________________________________________________

From what I understand, Songs of Innocence and of Experience is ultimately going to privilege the latter over the former, with the latter giving new insight into the former. And if that is the schema we’re supposed to be following, well, I think I have one criticism, and one possible alternate interpretive lens. First, while I cannot speak to the context of the Church culture Blake knew specifically, I don’t think this is actually a particularly profound ‘critique’ of Christianity. In fact, I’d say this is kind of par the course for Christianity. One of the major themes of the religion is that we all fall short. And, without God’s help, we will always fall short. You strip away the veneer of human decency, and you will find things you don’t like. Sin is a reality, and is corrupts. We’re not pure evil, but evil exists in our hearts. And to fix that, we need to put away the old man and put on the new. So if Songs of Innocence and Experience is meant to criticize mainstream opinions, I think this particular pair of poems actually fails in that regard; it actually affirms a central reality of Christianity: that the human heart is wounded and has evil settled within it. That we need to be vigilant and self-reflective, that if we focus solely on what we can do under our own power, we will find ourselves “forged Iron [and] a hungry Gorge.” But I don’t know, maybe English Church culture was a particularly triumphalist and optimistic in 1794. But anyway, I’m also going to propose an alternative interpretive key to this pair of poems. Instead of seeing the first as innocent and the second as experienced, I’m going to suggest dropping that dichotomy entirely and seeing both as equally true realities. I have seen Christianity be called a “both-and” religion in the sense that it excels at taking two seemingly contradictory concepts and making the tension inherent in their marriage fruitful. And it is in that spirit that I say both poems are true, but in different senses; A Divine Image is descriptive, whereas The Divine Image is prescriptive. Notice that only the first poem actually tries to impel the reader to do something: “And all must love the human form.” There is no analogous line in the (much shorter) sequel poem. Notice, too, that the first poem starts with The (it’s definitive) whereas the second starts with A (one possibility among many). If we were to keep the Innocent-Experienced dynamic as our interpretive lens, we could see this as the narrator making a more modest claim; in his naivety he thought his worldview was simply the correct one, and now he is broken enough to admit that even his cynical worldview may not actually accurately reflect reality. But what if we were to interpret this difference in another way? That the former actually is the definitive interpretation, if not in reality than at least in ideal, while the latter represents an unwillingness to stand firm in its conviction? In other words, what if we reject Blake’s intention to judge the former poem in light of the latter, and instead do the reverse?

TIL that the official English books for the Liturgy of the Hours includes an appendix containing poetry written by, among others, Chaucer, Dante, John Donne, William Blake, and Thomas Merton.