“Do you think she was ready for the wonder of God?”
“Of course she was!”
On the last Saturday night of July, a group gathered virtually for a poetry reading. We were fans — and some, friends — of Jane Greer. You may not know her name, but some considered Greer the greatest living American poet. She died after a few weeks of health complications, having prepared spiritually in the ways one does when earthly days are winding down.
Greer lived in North Dakota, so most of us, scattered elsewhere across the country, wouldn’t be making it to her funeral Mass. But we wanted to show God we were grateful for this life and talent. And, of course, grieve together. And let her husband and son know we loved her, too, and are praying for them in their tremendous loss.
But the “wonder” remark captured the consensus about Jane: that she had been thinking about her creator as a priority of her existence. The word “priority” suggests it was a task or a burden, but for Jane, it was much more natural than that.
One of her collections is titled “Love like a Conflagration.” And this is part of the poem the title came from: “Don’t act as though some game’s been played unfairly:/He’s never skimped on prophets since He breathed you/out of the mud and on your way to Heaven–/yours for the asking– .”
I’m not a poetry-explainer and am never going to try to play one in print, but we are looking at God here, and the superabundance of mercy he makes available to us. And we’re often spoiled about it. We can be ungrateful and ungracious.
The truth — that Jane knew and seemed to exude in even social media posts — is that he is perfect love. We can never earn it. We don’t deserve it. We can’t repay it, other than giving him our imperfect lives.
And then it comes: “Love like a conflagration shall be yours now;/love like an April river, like a temblor;/love like an avalanche, a midnight bomb-blast,/finding you hidden.”
That love poem is “Micha-el,” with an angel guiding us through. It may not be theologically correct to say this, but Greer seemed a bit of an angel guide herself. She was not only a beautiful poetic talent, observing the world with a tender thanksgiving, but she also was funny and sarcastic. It’s a wonderful blend.
“Jane’s poetry was rich and gorgeous, full of wisdom, clarity, and truth,” Emily Stimpson Chapman wrote in a memorial post on her Substack, Through a Glass Darkly. “Her words could strike the heart like bullets, penetrating defenses, breaking down barriers, drawing blood, all in the space of one tight line.” Chapman noted the gifts that made Greer such a treasure: an understanding of “reality. Which is to say, Jane knew Jesus, and she knew His Church. She knew the love of both, as well as the demands of both. Her faith gave her poetry substance and texture.”
As we were talking on the Zoom call about wonder and mystery and God, there were smiles on the screen, akin to when you hold a newborn or witness a couple clearly made for each other finally married.
Jane lived some of the joy for which we were made. Her poetry invites us to the same.
(Kathryn Jean Lopez is senior fellow at the National Review Institute, editor-at-large of National Review magazine and author of the new book “A Year With the Mystics: Visionary Wisdom for Daily Living.” She is also chair of Cardinal Dolan’s pro-life commission in New York, and is on the board of the University of Mary. She can be contacted at klopez@nationalreview.com.)
