Those who turn the pages of Philip C. Kolin’s book of poetry, “Evangeliaries,” will be going on a pilgrimage of grace. It is necessary, therefore, to slow down. Poetry, especially poetry this suffused with God’s abundant presence, must not be rushed. It must be savoured in silence.
I have recently received a copy of Evangeliaries: Poems by Philip C. Kolin and feel compelled to recommend it to all lovers of the triune splendour of goodness, truth and beauty.
I have known the author of this volume of poems for many years. I’ve had the honour and privilege of publishing his splendid verse in the St. Austin Review (or StAR), the Catholic cultural journal that I’ve edited since its launch in September 2001, the month of the 9-11 terrorist attacks. Our little “StAR” was, therefore, being born in the literary firmament at an hour in which darkness had descended. In some sense, each of Philip C. Kolin’s poems are stars which enlighten the darkness with the light of wisdom and witness.
I will conclude this brief reflection on this fine volume of verse with a few words about the wisdom and witness of Philip C. Kolin but would like to begin at the very beginning with a definition of terms. This is necessary because poems are only powerful if their potency is perceived. We need to know that when we spell a word we cast a spell. Philip C. Kolin knows this. His words witness to this. But his readers need to know it too.
The word “poem” derives from the ancient Greek and means “a thing that is made or created”. A poet is one who makes or creates a thing, and poiesis is the act which brings the thing into being. In this original and broadest sense of the word, we can say that God, the Creator, is the primal Poet who brings things into being ex nihilo, from nothing. He is the Word and we are worded into being. In contrast, we are lesser or secondary poets who bring things into being from other things that already exist. This is why J.R.R. Tolkien distinguished between God’s Creation and human sub-creation.
In the primal sense, we can say that all creatures are poems because they are things made or created. A sunrise is a poem; trees are poems; we are poems. We can also say that the good and beautiful things made by men using the faculty of the creative imagination are poems. A cathedral is a poem; an orchestral score is a poem; a painting is a poem. If we know this, we will know Philip C. Kolin’s poetry; if we don’t, we won’t.
As for the poems that grace this volume, I am almost afraid to speak of them, mindful of Wordsworth’s warning that “we murder to dissect”. To pull them apart can do them violence. And yet we must dissect in order to discuss. Doing so without violating the integrity of the work necessitates the critic’s pen being wielded with the dexterity of the surgeon’s scalpel. Even on the assumption that I had such skill, neither time nor space permits the exercising of it within the formal constraints of the present essay. To keep with our medical metaphor, the patient deserves more patience than time and space permits.
Since we don’t have the time to single out the individual stars for appraisal (switching metaphors), we will look at the whole galaxy that the volume presents to us and the several constellations within it. As the title suggests, the volume seeks to bring the words and wisdom of the Gospel to enlighten the liturgy of life with God’s presence. It begins with “beginnings”, the In Principio of Genesis and St. John’s Gospel, the primal things prior to man himself. There are mystical meditations on light, God’s breath, stars, angels, fire, and water before we get to the “blessed dirt” from which we were made.
Having started at the very beginning (a very good place to start!), the next constellation in this poetic cosmos, “Holy Books and Theological Virtues”, takes us deeper into Scripture and virtue. Then comes “Images” in which the poet perceives what Hopkins would call the inscape of everyday things, such as bread, salt, sparrows and stones, seeing the hand of the Poet in each of these “poems” of his Creation, and seeing them as images or symbols of the Divine and our relationship with It through their allusive connection to the words of Christ.
The largest constellation, entitled “Oremus”, is devoted to prayer and praise and is itself a prayer in praise of God’s abundance. We see this abundance spilling over in the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist and in the praise of His Mother. We see it in missionaries, in the poor in spirit, and in discipleship; we see it, paradoxically, in unspoken prayers. We see it in diverse and multifarious places, both expected and unexpected. We see it in the cloister but also in the women’s shelter; we see it on Holy Thursday pilgrimages but also in a Walmart parking lot. In this ability to see God’s abundance in unexpected places, Philip C. Kolin sings in harmony with Hopkins. God’s abundance, His grandeur, shines out. It speaks. It sings. It startles and astonishes.
The final section, the last constellation, is a memento mori, a series of meditations on old age and on death, and on what awaits us after death’s threshold is crossed. This is as it should be. We should all keep in mind that our life is a pilgrimage. It is a quest for what Hopkins calls the “heaven-haven of the reward”. We keep our eye on the finishing line, not because it’s the end but because it’s the real beginning.
On this note, I’ll make my own end.
Those who turn the pages of Evangeliaries will be going on a pilgrimage of grace. It is necessary, therefore, to slow down. Poetry, especially poetry this suffused with God’s abundant presence, must not be rushed. It must be savoured in silence. My advice is that the reader of these poems should give them their entire presence of mind and heart and soul. In doing so, they will be disconnecting from the godgets that distract us from the quest of life and will be reconnecting with God who is the very purpose of the quest.
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