Strangers and Pilgrims

Have you ever done the house-hunt thing? Either for real or Muriel’s-Wedding-dress-style (i.e. looking with no intention of buying)? It’s a great way of breeding discontentment… Spending weekend after weekend looking at what I don’t have but what I really want or could want or might want.  Walking into any home – even a friend’s home – becomes an evaluation exercise: what do they have that I want?

What I really liked about the final few chapters of ‘Anne Bradstreet: Pilgrim & Poet’, was the reminder to lift my eyes from the material to the eternal. We’ve already seen how Anne views herself as a pilgrim, passing through, in this life. This perception only strengthens as she gets older. She writes: ‘A Christian is sailing through this world unto his heavenly country and here he has many conveniences and comforts, but he must beware of desiring to make this the place of his abode…we must, therefore, be here as strangers and pilgrims, that we may plainly declare that we seek a city above…’ This talk of living here but not making it our home echoes Paul’s encouragement that ‘those who buy do so as though they did not possess and those who use the world as though they did not make full use of it. For this world in its current form is passing away’ (1 Cor 7:30-31).  It’s a real challenge though – how do you spend (God-willing) – 80 or so years somewhere, but never truly settle down? How can we nurture the healthy restlessness of a pilgrim? Perhaps the key is how the gospel frees us to hold earthly things lightly, but see the times clearly…

But what gave Anne this clear-sight for the next life? Perhaps it was seeing her granddaughters pass away so tragically and so young. Perhaps it was watching her home burn to the ground in the night. Perhaps it was watching Massachusetts shift to a new generation – less concerned with puritan devotion and more with material accumulation. Whatever it was, it seems that Anne focused her attention even more squarely on the hereafter.

After watching her home go up in smoke she manages to write: It was his own, it was not mine, far be it that I should repine. God is the ultimate possessor. It was her’s merely on loan. She has another more sturdy home waiting:

Thou hast a house on high erect,

Framed by that mighty Architect

With glory richly furnished,

Stands permanent though this be fled.

From the age of 50 Anne begins explicitly expecting, and preparing for, her death. Granted the life expectancy figures were much lower back then but still, it’s challenging. She doesn’t prepare in a material way – by being preoccupied with who will get what and how, but in a spiritual way – with a  renewed devotion to Christ. At age 52 she writes an account of her life to be read by her children when she’s gone, Cook includes it as the appendix. It’s not so much a record of her achievements – she doesn’t mention her published work at all! – but a crystallization of the events and wisdom which she wants to pass on. It’s well worth a read.

After having no idea about who Anne Bradstreet was, I feel like I’ve learnt a lot from her. Imagining her in those woods, isolated and yet so aware God’s closeness in Christ. An unlikely hero in the building of America, she was much more concerned with storing treasures in another land. Thank God that the same fuel she had to live that life, fuels the walk of every Christian – the encouragement of the gospel, the fellowship of Christ and the work of the Holy Spirit.

As we look forward to our ultimate home, may we all be able to pray with Anne:

Lord, make me ready for that day,

Then come, dear Bridegroom, come away. 

About this month's contributor, Annabel Nixey

I'm a Sydney-bred, Canberra-newbie who's still getting used to the idea of four distinct seasons (yes, in winter it is chilly!). My favourite genres are… for movies - period dramas, for books - biographies and for coffee - tea. American history was my least favourite subject at uni but this month's book (set amongst the puritan pilgrims to the new world) has helped flip that impression.

‘Uphold my drooping heart’

For something written about 363 years ago, you get what she means…

Those days/weeks/months/years when the darkness will not lift…when it all feels too hard… and then it gets harder. Maybe it’s the relationship that is difficult, the newborn who will not sleep, the illness that will not pass or just the grey dragging weight of one frustration after another. Whatever it is, we’ve all had moments when we ask God: uphold my drooping heart (P&P p 116).

Chapters 9-12 of Pilgrim & Poet recount in some sense the ‘high point’  of Anne Bradstreet’s life – her work is published in England (unbeknownst to her!) and she becomes the first published poet of America. But this peculiar triumph (which she finds initially confronting and embarrassing) is then overshadowed by a difficult time of illness and isolation between 1648-57. During these years she is at home without her husband for long periods (again!) now looking after their 8 children. She also loses her father and faces frequent illnesses and infections.

She cries out to God:

Worthy art thou, O Lord, of praise,

but ah! It’s not in me!

My sinking heart I pray thee raise,

so shall I give it thee. 

Sometimes we don’t have the wherewithal to praise. All we can do is ask God to plant his foreign-feeling words in our hearts. 

Anne’s perseverance seems to be rooted in a habit of re-plastering God’s faithfulness across her mind’s eye and reaffirming her own identity as a pilgrim, passing through, in the course of this life. Cook suggests this pilgrim idea is repeated motif in Anne’s work (hence the tile – Pilgrim & Poet). Perhaps the words she wrote about her father, could also be applied to Anne:

Upon the earth he did not build his nest,

But as a pilgrim what he had, possessed.

High thoughts he gave no harbour in his heart,

Nor honours puffed him up when he had part;

Those titles loathed which some too much do love,

For truly his ambition lay above. 

Perhaps it is easier to hold things loosely here (even things like comfort & ease) when our heart’s grip is preoccupied with things above (c/f Matthew 6). Anne seems to have a striking sense that whatever her circumstances, they are for her good: ‘for God does not afflict willingly, nor take delight in grieving the children of men: he has no benefit in my adversity nor is he the better for my prosperity, but he does it for my advantage, and that I may be the gainer by it. And if he knows that weakness and a frail body is the best to make me a vessel fit for his use, why should I not bear it not only willingly but joyfully?’ 

Wouldn’t you love to have that perspective all the time! It appears Anne could only get it by looking to God’s faithfulness, both at the time, and in retrospect:

My winter’s past, my storms are gone,

and former clouds seem now all fled,

but if they must eclipse again,

I’ll run where I was succourèd*

I have a shelter from the storm

a shadow from the fainting heat,

I have access unto his throne,

who is a God so wondrous great. 

So here’s a call to all those feeling the batterings of life at the moment– praying that God’s throne would be a refuge to you in the storms and searing heat, just as it was to America’s first published poet.

* For those (like me!) who had no idea what ‘succourèd’ meant:

succour (ˈsʌkə) or succor

n

1. help or assistance, esp in time of difficulty

2. a person or thing that provides help

vb

3. (tr) to give aid to

About this month's contributor, Annabel Nixey

I'm a Sydney-bred, Canberra-newbie who's still getting used to the idea of four distinct seasons (yes, in winter it is chilly!). My favourite genres are… for movies - period dramas, for books - biographies and for coffee - tea. American history was my least favourite subject at uni but this month's book (set amongst the puritan pilgrims to the new world) has helped flip that impression.

‘How does she do it?’

Have you ever thought that about someone? Perhaps they are running a marathon while accepting a promotion and organising a charity event all at the same time. Perhaps you’re convinced they have one of those devices which Hermione had in Harry Potter. It seems they simply have more hours in the day, or just more energy in their tank.

This is the overall impression I was left with after reading Pilgrim & Poet chapters 5-8. Anne Bradstreet – How does she do it?

Imagine yourself - a pilgrim in the New World. No electricity. No running water. Imagine moving house with a toddler, whilst heavily pregnant – when moving house means a two day journey to a ‘house’ which then has to be built by hand, log by log. Imagine then raising 8 children often on your own – your husband is frequently away for weeks on end on colony business. You’re partially lame because of an earlier illness. You’re scared a tree is going to fall on your house. You’re scared (rightly or wrongly) that you’ll get killed by Amerindians. You have to farm your own food, make your own bread, repair your own house, keep yourself sane. Meanwhile you decide to write thousands and thousands of lines of rhyming couplets describing the current political situation, and dabbling in classical philosophy and ancient history…. How does she do it?!

Thankfully our author doesn’t fall into complete hagiography here. Anne does have weaknesses. The solitude eats away at her. At times she’s swamped by anxious thoughts, self-pity and resentment. She doubts God, pleads with her husband to come home and runs her tear ducts dry. And the beautiful thing is we know this because she wrote about it. Cook includes numerous excerpts of Anne’s poetry and prose. I’m frequently struck by how often her personal poems feel like psalms. Not because they mention Zion or lyres or anything like that. But because they have that thematic rhythm, the rhythm that echoes the plod of the Christian life – that rhythm that starts with the hardships, but ends with turning to God in trust and praise.

You can picture Anne lying alone in bed at night, hearing the creaks of her log-house, eyes wide with fears and doubts and slowly letting the Lordship of Christ umpire her heart and calm her anxieties:

By night when others soundly slept

And had at once both ease and rest,

My waking eyes were open kept,

And so to lie I found it best.

I sought him whom my soul did love,

With tears I sought him earnestly;

He bowed his ear down from above;

In vain I did not seek or cry.

My hungry soul he filled with good,

He in his bottle put my tears,

My smarting wounds washed in his blood

And banished thence my doubt and fears.

What to my Saviour shall I give,

Who freely hath done this for me?

I’ll serve him here whilst I shall live

And love him to eternity.

So whether you’re someone who ‘does it all’ or doesn’t, who ‘has it all’ or hasn’t, may we do or not do, have or not have, all to the glory of God. I’m so thankful that whether I’m a somewhat-super-woman on the frontier or a run-of-the-mill suburbanite, God in his grace gives us the same fuel to keep running– the never-let-go love and never-fail forgiveness of Christ.

P.S. On a totally different note - if you’re interested in hearing a bit more about Anne Hutchison (who we mentioned in the first post), Kevin Vanhoozer mentioned her in his opening Moore College Lecture, given just last week. Gives another reason to listen if you’re keen. Vanhoozer has some great reflections on how the whole controversy exemplifies the tension the Massachusetts puritans felt between the authority of scripture and the priesthood of all believers. 

About this month's contributor, Annabel Nixey

I'm a Sydney-bred, Canberra-newbie who's still getting used to the idea of four distinct seasons (yes, in winter it is chilly!). My favourite genres are… for movies - period dramas, for books - biographies and for coffee - tea. American history was my least favourite subject at uni but this month's book (set amongst the puritan pilgrims to the new world) has helped flip that impression.

Anne Bradstreet: Pilgrim and Poet by Faith Cook

I’m a sucker for a biography. I love how they transport you to another time and place, but a real time and place. I’m also a sucker for any movie that begins with the caption: ‘based on a true story’. Somehow the events grab my heart so much more tightly – even if they are ‘based on a true story’ (about as much as my attempts at butter chicken are ‘based’ on authentic Indian cuisine). Anyway, enough about movies. Let's talk books, in particular this month’s book – Anne Bradstreet: Pilgrim & Poet’ by Faith Cook.

To be honest the only name I recognized from the front or back  covers of this book was Tim Challies’ who gives a one line review. Apparently Faith Cook is a well known Christian biographer. And apparently Anne Bradstreet was America’s first published poet!  Who knew! (perhaps you did, but I didn’t). Being a biography I was happy to give it a go. Glad I did.

Cook has a knack for giving a bit of depth but still keeping it easy to read for the not-quite-history-buff. She also seems keen on giving a sense of the historical context, not just the intimacies of the person in focus. This is particularly noticeable in the first 4 chapters of Anne Bradstreet:Pilgrim & Poet (let’s call it P&P for short). In these chapters we meet a young Anne -  bookish,  privileged by a good education and godly parents & deeply reflective. We meet her in the context of the political and religious tensions of 17th century England and follow her as she marries (at 16!) and sets sail for the new world (at 18!).

What I find most interesting about these chapters is their description of the aspirations and tensions of the Pilgrims in Massachusetts. While at times the description of the English political situation in chapter 1 seemed a bit superficial, when we reach America Cook provides a helpfully frank analysis of the different personalities and problems. The puritans sailed with such high hopes: A new civilization shining forth the virtues of pure gospel faith to the world. But soon the realities of division, sin, pride, arrogance and hardship rise to the surface. Cook helpfully surmises: ‘The settlers in Massachusetts Bay had emigrated with idealistic dreams of a godly community where all sinful conduct could be held in church by severe penalties. But human nature proved the same on both sides of the Atlantic, and even draconian punishments failed to reform it.'

In this way various theological issues bubble along beneath the surface of this book, many of which are still so relevant today: the relationship between church and state, our aspirations to build a perfect world this side of the new creation, the place of church discipline, the differences between men and women, the relationship of grace and works, how much the Old Testament law should be a template in the life of the believer. Cook nods to these issues as they emerge in the history, reflecting on them without stepping into heavy handed moralizing. A good example of this is her treatment of Anne Hutchison. At the beginning this (other) Anne seems to be a possible heroine, seeking to reform the moralist preaching of the settlements and reemphasise the grace of the gospel (albeit perhaps with a  lack of tact and gentleness). However, as Cook notes, it is her methods of ministry and her shift to believing she was receiving special separate revelations from God that creates the real problems. To be honest, I have very little knowledge of early American history so can only take much of Cook’s analysis on face value – but on the face of it it appears fair and evenhanded.

The main character of these first four chapters really is the historical context of the American colony, rather than Anne. What emerges is an ensemble cast of often well-intentioned but flawed people, trying to plant puritan ideals into the fiercely foreign and firm ground of the New World. It is in the next chapters that we see Anne herself step closer to centre-stage.

About this month's contributor, Annabel Nixey

I'm a Sydney-bred, Canberra-newbie who's still getting used to the idea of four distinct seasons (yes, in winter it is chilly!). My favourite genres are… for movies - period dramas, for books - biographies and for coffee - tea. American history was my least favourite subject at uni but this month's book (set amongst the puritan pilgrims to the new world) has helped flip that impression.