Emerson and Christian Spirituality

I remember my first encounter with Ralph Waldo Emerson. Mr. Keen's junior AP American Lit class had just uncovered the mysteries and the complexities of American Romanticism, and some of us were more enthralled with this discovery than others.

While I relished Hawthorne and Melville, Emerson blatantly offended my sensibilities as a young disciple of Jesus. Statements lambasting the established church and celebrating a pantheistic Oversoul infuriated me as my black pen left sarcastic retorts in the margins of my paperback. "This man is such a heretic. No wonder the United States is no longer a Christian nation," I muttered to myself. I even jokingly told my Christian friends that I would sponsor a book-burning in my backyard for anyone else who shared my sentiments. Fortunately, a liberal-minded friend of mine talked me out of it by using a Miltonic argument: to burn a book is to murder an author. Besides, I'm not sure what Mom and Dad would have thought of a massive conflagration in our backyard . . .

Fast-forward four years. I'm a junior again, a seasoned English major who's been assigned more than her share of explicit and heretical material. The passage of time has not made me align my beliefs with Mr. Emerson, but his unorthodox views no longer shock me. In fact, I can almost reconcile his beliefs with biblical Christianity.

In "The Poet," Emerson exalts the poet as a "seer" and writes that "we hear those primal warblings [the pre-existent poetry] and attempt to write them down." To me, this description of the poetic process has a familiar ring to it.

When I attempt to write poetry "Soli Deo Gloria," or for the glory of God, I prayerfully begin by asking the Holy Spirit to inspire my mind. This begging for divine inspiration is rooted in the belief that I must connect with and obey something (or a Someone) much bigger than my own little attempts at creativity, something Muse-like in its action. As I follow the Spirit's prompting, I somehow walk in the artistic footsteps of the Old Testament prophets who listened to God's message and obediently wrote down what He said.

Emerson's eyes are not closed to our failings in our divine dictation, however. He observes that "we lose ever and anon a word or a verse and substitute something of our own, and thus miswrite the poem." I see truth in this observation. The minute that I interject my own musings, the poem loses its cohesiveness, and my ministry as a writer loses its potency. Granted, my "filler" may sound nice and imitate the authenticity of the lines God whispered, but I believe that time eventually reveals the mediocrity of what lacks divine inspiration.

I think Emerson would agree with me that the key to excellent writing lies in continued fellowship with this omnipresent Force. For me, this involves the surrender of my artistic will to the supremely creative God, who breathes His words into my mind. My humanity challenges that surrender, but I know in my heart that my work lacks completion without it.