The Prophet and the Poet - We do this in Memory of… the Lamb

By Anne Dixon, Lent 2021

Anna (right) at the presentation of Jesus, from Giotto, Chapel of Scrovegni.

Anna, daughter of Phanuel, is an elderly Israelite woman described in Luke 2:36-38 who recognises the Messiah in the infant Jesus when he is presented at the temple in Jerusalem, accompanied by his parents and a live sacrifice. She is devout, spends her nights and days fasting and praying, and is a Prophet.

Denise, daughter of Paul Levertov, is a British born, naturalised American. Her father was a Russian Hasidic Jew who emigrated to the UK and converted to Christianity. Denise is a writer with a strong religious theme to her work. She recognises the divine presence in unexpected places. She is politically active, a teacher, a mother and a Poet.

This is an imaginary conversation between them:

Denise - What a challenge your brief appearance is to our contemporary perceptions. St Luke positively relishes your advanced years, describing you as being ‘of great age’ and some have estimated you may have been as old as 105. This makes you indisputably an Old Woman. I’m sorry to say that this is a term usually reserved for a derogatory remark, as in “Don’t be such an old woman about it”, rather than a recognition of wisdom, and yet the Evangelist describes you as a Prophet. I’m intrigued. How did you gain such status?

Portrait of Denise Levertov. Taken on Flagg St, Cambridge, MA.

Anna - it was a different culture of course, where the fortunate elderly might be respected, but women were commonly viewed as possessions and could be discarded. That said, the Jewish faith also allowed for the just care of the elderly, poor and widowed. I came from a devout Jewish family, not from one of the priestly tribes like the Levites, or the royal line like that of Judah, my father was of the tribe of Asher. We are more of the ‘supporting cast’ in the story of Israel.

Denise - So is the tribe of Asher renowned for its prophetic gifts?

Anna (laughing) - Not particularly. Jacob blessed us with rich food and royal delicacies, and Moses favoured us with strength and length of days. I think Luke mentions my lineage because it places me in an authentic Israelite context. I am a bridge. I have one foot in what you call the Old Testament as a genuine descendant of Joseph’s brother, Asher, and the other foot in the new Christian scriptures as the only named female New Testament Prophet. It’s a weighty responsibility. I think you know what I mean, because you are a bridge too.

Denise - Between Judaism and Christianity? Yes, but I‘d like to think I was also a bridge between religious belief and its literary expression, between ordinary experience and the unexpected breaking in of the numinous. I use everyday images to describe what is indescribable.

Anna - We are both communicators, I think. It is difficult to explain just how I knew that the child before me was the long-awaited Messiah. The passage in Luke makes it sound as though I was just passing by and may have been informed by Simeon’s insight. I’d like to think that my extended presence in the temple had given me the ability to recognise when something particular was worthy of attention. Prayer and fasting create a highly focussed state of mind where minute detail in facial expressions and nuances of speech are less likely to be missed.

Denise - Now you are beginning to sound like a Poet! The pared-down language we use creates a similar focussing effect, capturing the essence of a scene or experience. Please tell us more about what you saw.

Anna - The parents were an apparently ordinary devout couple complying with the law of the Lord. They were not particularly wealthy, and had brought merely the required sacrifice of two small birds. They were proud of their child and wanted to do what was right. The father was naturally protective of his wife and child. The mother was quiet and reflective, as if she thought deeply about the steps they were taking.

Denise - So what was it that caught your attention?

Anna - Afterwards, I often wondered that myself. It was a scene I had witnessed in the Temple many times but this time it was different. It was distinctive. I sensed a presence that I now find impossible to describe but, at the time, my only response was to begin to praise God for that presence and to ensure that I spoke about it to all who would listen. I used my voice, my words, to capture this extraordinary moment and ensure it would be recorded and remembered.

I think you know what I mean. In your poetry, your words capture ordinary moments and imbue them with significance, a numinous quality, which less creative minds would miss. If you had been there, I like to think you would have known how to describe the distinctive nature of that moment of recognition. What image or symbol might you have used?

Denise - How can we describe the indescribable? I like to connect with what we know, to stumble towards understanding of the unknown. In my poem Agnus Dei I use the lived experience of observing the mess and smell of the outdoor birth of a lamb to consider the peculiar title afforded to Jesus, the Christ, by his cousin, John. What meaning was he trying to convey? What can we learn about God from this symbol?

God then,
encompassing all things, is
defenceless? Omnipotence
has been tossed away, reduced
to a wisp of damp wool?

The symbol, viewed through the lens of ‘real life’, presents us with a vulnerable God, as vulnerable as a new-born child just beginning life with his suitably bewildered parents.

Anna - ‘Just beginning life’… and I had the feeling that the purpose of my entire life was to witness this Presence, in this moment. My life was touched by the Divine. It is not something you forget, ever!

Denise - Exactly! I am intrigued by the relationship between God and humanity. It is a theme I return to, often. Just as I approach the unknowable through the known, I explore Presence through the experience of Absence.

Fragmented Adam stares.
God’s hands
unseen, the whirling rides
dazzle, the lights blind him. Fragmented,
he is not present to himself. God
suffers the void that is his absence.

The Absence described here is not that experienced by a humanity seeking an elusive God, but conversely that of a God reaching out hands towards ‘Adam’ who is so distracted by life’s attractions that he is fully present neither to God or to himself. The image suggests that it may be impossible to experience the Divine within ourselves if we are ‘fragmented’. To experience the Real Presence of God we need your degree of focused vision.

Anna - By the Grace of God, prayer and fasting I was there - I would not have missed it for the world.

Anne Dixon
Lent 2021