Friday, September 14, 2012

The Philosopher's Stone (GH Day 16)

I'm quite fond of the Harry Potter series. Currently, I'm listening to the first book, Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone (the misnamed American title), on audiobook in my car. In that book, Harry, Ron, and Hermione learn that the philosopher's stone (the book's original, more appropriate name) has two desirable properties: (1) it turns base metals to gold and (2) it is used to create the elixir of life, which can grant immortality to the one who drinks it.

In this first Harry Potter book, J. K. Rowling drew from a long history in literature and the early natural sciences regarding the search for this mythical, miraculous philosopher's stone. George Herbert, nearly 400 years earlier, draws upon this same imagery for the central metaphor of his poem, "The Elixir." Here's the text from Luminarium.org:

THE ELIXIR.                       

TEACH me, my God and King,
In all things Thee to see,
And what I do in anything,
To do it as for Thee.

Not rudely, as a beast,
To run into action ;
But still to make Thee prepossest,
And give it his* perfection.

A man that looks on glass,
On it may stay his eye,
Or, if he pleaseth, through it pass,
And then the heav'n espy.

All may of Thee partake ;
Nothing can be so mean
Which with his* tincture (for Thy sake)
Will not grow bright and clean.

A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine :
Who sweeps a room as for Thy laws,
Makes that and th' action fine.

This is the famous stone
That turneth all to gold ;
For that which God doth touch and own
Cannot for less be told.
 

*Note that "his" both times should probably be translated "its."

Playing with the two benefits of the philosopher's stone and melding them into one, Herbert as poet-alchemist also transmutes a physical object providing tangible benefits into an attitude of the mind and heart yielding spiritual benefits.

The spiritual attitude that becomes the key to kingdom living is introduced for us in the first and second stanzas: seeing God in everything and keeping that perspective foremost in our minds. This overview is followed in stanza 3 by an analogy illustrating the concept: looking at the window versus looking through or beyond the window is like looking at our task versus seeing beyond it to the attitude we have while performing the task. We can have just the glass in front of our noses, or we can have "heaven" (line 12).

The words "mean" and "tincture" in stanza 4 take some clarification, and I find this to be the least lucid stanza. "Mean" is not an attitude, but refers to something low or base and is a hierarchical classification (e.g., a mean and humble cottage versus a grand palace). "Tincture" is an alchemical term. Helen Wilcox's note in her English Poems of George Herbert references the OED definition: "a spiritual principle infused into material things," probably, Wilcox comments, alluding to the sacraments, through which we may "partake" of Christ (line 13). I also think that "partake" applies to partaking of the divine perspective that forms the central idea of the poem and is the "famous stone" (line 21).    

Herbert follows his earlier analogy with the example in stanza 5 of sweeping a room, a mundane task that is like a base metal. An attitude of doing the task for God (1 Corinthians 10:31) is like the philosopher's stone: our mundane task can be turned into a "golden" one with the perspective that we're working heartily unto the Lord (Colossians 3:23).

It's a perspective that keeps the eternal in focus, reminding us that Jesus said he came into the world that we might have life and have it more abundantly. If we let him "own" us (line 23), he will turn us, through the process of sanctification and the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2), into gold. 

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