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Poetry Theology

Sunday Sonnet

This is a time when there has been two jihad attacks, one in London and one in the Hague. The Muslim is taught that he can seek his salvation in holy war.

The poet knows better. His sins, my sins, this day, every day, suffice for Christ to forgive me, and that can only be done by my debt being paid by him on the cross.

Holy Sonnet 11

Spit in my face, you Jews, and pierce my side,
Buffet, and scoff, scourge, and crucify me,
For I have sinn’d, and sinne’, and only He,
Who could do no iniquity, hath died.

But by my death can not be satisfied
My sins, which pass the Jews’ impiety.
They kill’d once an inglorious man, but I
Crucify him daily, being now glorified.

O let me then His strange love still admire;
Kings pardon, but He bore our punishment;
And Jacob came clothed in vile harsh attire,
But to supplant, and with gainful intent;

God clothed Himself in vile man’s flesh, that so
He might be weak enough to suffer woe.

John Donne

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