I've
had a poem on my mind recently. This is kind of unusual, since I'm
not a huge poetry buff, really. Oh, I do enjoy a good rhyme on
occasion, usually when it's put to music, but I couldn't sit here and
quote Dickinson, or Whitman, or other poets to you.
I
was introduced to a poem a while ago, though, that has stuck in my
mind. I think mostly for its prophetic nature, and the way that it
captures what is consistently happening in our culture, and even in
our churches today.
This
poem is called “The Gods of the Copybook Headings” by Rudyard
Kipling. The “copybook headings” referred to in the poem, are the
proverbs and maxims, that long-ago schoolchildren had to copy over
and over again in their copybooks. In the poem, Kipling uses the
term, “the gods of the copybook headings” for common sense, and
the values and principles that people used to live their lives by.
THE
GODS OF THE COPYBOOK HEADINGS
As
I pass through my incarnations in every age and race,
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market Place.
Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all.
We were living in trees when they met us. They showed us each in turn
That Water would certainly wet us, as Fire would certainly burn:
But we found them lacking in Uplift, Vision and Breadth of Mind,
So we left them to teach the Gorillas while we followed the March of Mankind.
We moved as the Spirit listed. They never altered their pace,
Being neither cloud nor wind-borne like the Gods of the Market Place;
But they always caught up with our progress, and presently word would come
That a tribe had been wiped off its icefield, or the lights had gone out in Rome.
With the Hopes that our World is built on they were utterly out of touch,
They denied that the Moon was Stilton; they denied she was even Dutch;
They denied that Wishes were Horses; they denied that a Pig had Wings;
So we worshipped the Gods of the Market Who promised these beautiful things.
When the Cambrian measures were forming, They promised perpetual peace.
They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease.
But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "Stick to the Devil you know."
On the first Feminian Sandstones we were promised the Fuller Life
(Which started by loving our neighbour and ended by loving his wife)
Till our women had no more children and the men lost reason and faith,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "The Wages of Sin is Death."
In the Carboniferous Epoch we were promised abundance for all,
By robbing selected Peter to pay for collective Paul;
But, though we had plenty of money, there was nothing our money could buy,
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings said: "If you don't work you die."
Then the Gods of the Market tumbled, and their smooth-tongued wizards withdrew
And the hearts of the meanest were humbled and began to believe it was true
That All is not Gold that Glitters, and Two and Two make Four—
And the Gods of the Copybook Headings limped up to explain it once more.
As it will be in the future, it was at the birth of Man—
There are only four things certain since Social Progress began:—
That the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool's bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire;
And that after this is accomplished, and the brave new world begins
When all men are paid for existing and no man must pay for his sins,
As surely as Water will wet us, as surely as Fire will burn,
The Gods of the Copybook Headings with terror and slaughter return!
Now,
I realize that this is not strictly a Christian poem, but I believe
it has a lot of value for the Christian to read. I've had numerous
discussions recently about the “old ways” so to speak, and many
people, even Christians are challenging closely held Christian
beliefs.
Oh,
I'm not talking about challenging man-made traditions and rules in
churches... no, I'm referring to challenging the very foundations of
Christianity itself...I'm talking about an insidious belief that all
sins are automatically forgiven, and that once we are saved we will
always be saved. I get the impression that some people believe they
are too “enlightened” to believe in a bunch of dusty old Bible
verses from ancient times.
And
so, they try justify them out of existence. Usually by saying things
like “Oh, Jesus was talking to (insert group of people from the
Bible) and He didn't really mean us!”
The
Bible wasn't written by chance, it was written with a succinct
purpose in mind...every word was meant to be there....every word is
there for a reason.
There
are a lot of other things happening in the country right now that
this poem could apply to as well. Such as:
“They swore, if we gave them our weapons, that the wars of the tribes would cease. But when we disarmed They sold us and delivered us bound to our foe,” (That ring any bells, anyone? Any at all?)
I
would like to get into that, and a few other lines a little bit more,
but I'm running out of time, and I think I smell popcorn, so I won't
today, but I will let Glenn Beck explain it further. (below)
As
always, feel free to share your thoughts and feelings in the comments
below.
God
Bless!
