"The Resurrection of Christ" by Pietro Perugino‘How Great Thou Art’: An Easter Ballade by Brian Yapko The Society April 9, 2023 Beauty, Culture, Poetry 12 Comments . How Great Thou Art __An Easter Ballade . It’s Easter. I can hear the choir sing. The gospels have been prayed upon and read And now I cheer the news the watchmen bring With shouts of “He is risen!” I am led Up to the altar where through wine and bread I’ll join with Him, not sundered and apart. Exultant hymns prove all my fears have fled: “How great Thou art, dear God. How great Thou art.” Although it seems too few are worshiping I focus on Your peace. I lift my head And listen to the church bells as they ring. The angels are rejoicing wings outspread To see the Church and Savior truly wed— A shining light which darkness cannot part. All grief from Friday’s sorrow has been shed. How great Thou art, my God, how great Thou art! I’m here today to kneel before my King Whose love ensures my starving soul is fed. I hear the priest shout “Death where is thy sting!” I weep, set free at last from mortal dread; The Enemy of all that’s good has fled! This broken world is given a new start. The time to mourn has passed. All sing instead “How great Thou art, how truly great Thou art!” Though He was nailed upon a cross and bled I know it deep within my soul and heart That Christ is resurrected from the dead. How great Thou art. My God, how great Thou art! . . Brian Yapko is a lawyer who also writes poetry. He lives in Santa Fe, New Mexico. NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets. The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary. 12 Responses Roy Eugene Peterson April 9, 2023 Your heart stirring poetry is a wonderful Easter message of the death and resurrection of Christ with the special inclusion of the great originally Swedish song, “How Great Thou Art.” I can feel the earnest words and place myself in that glorious setting with the congregation singing and the bells of resurrection defying death on the cross. Have a blessed Easter! Reply Brian A Yapko April 9, 2023 Thank you very much, Roy! I love “How Great Thou Art” and I’ve so hoped to be able to work it into a poem. It’s not an Easter hymn but there’s no reason why it couldn’t be! Have a blessed Easter as well! Reply Margaret Coats April 10, 2023 Brian, I am astonished at how many threads of the Easter liturgy you pick up to weave this extraordinary ballade. It is a real ballade with only three rhyme sounds in 28 lines, but that is the least of its glories. It gives a feeling of immediate experience of the Resurrection, from a witness to it through the Church’s re-presentation. You do justice to “How Great Thou Art” as we have it in English, with the center stanza on the Father’s sacrifice of His Son, but your own “how great” has yet another approach. How great God is–not only to lower himself to become man, but to be known through a Church made up of sinners, and to join himself intimately to the faithful through (yes, “through” seems to be the correct word) bread and wine. These are in fact the works of mankind whose appearances the great God is willing to take on in order to become our nourishment. The line about too few worshippers is striking. This must be the way it looks to anyone who recognizes God’s greatness, but worship is a choice. We can recall that even in Christ’s foreshadowing of the Eucharist, saying He would give his flesh to eat and his blood to drink, He lost many followers. This was not kosher, and even the closest disciples may have thought of leaving. They had to look at worship as He planned it. That kind of vision is offered to everyone, but fully taken up and comprehended by few. One of those is your speaker, and the way you present the elements of his experience show that it is a human response to divine greatness. Reply Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Margaret, I am so happy to receive this generous comment. Thank you! For some reason, my most devotional poetry seems to take the form of a ballade and this is the third time I’ve written my most personal spiritual contemplations into ballade form. Perhaps it’s because the rhymes are so demanding — as you well know from your ballades royale — working within that level of intricacy is not just an exercise in being meticulous. Rather, it can become a truly meditative spiritual experience. I did indeed hope to bring as much of the Easter service into the poem as possible, but not in a journalistic way — As you perceptively observe, I wanted to share my very “human response to divine greatness” — one of great joy, elation, relief and ultimately the sense that through God all things are possible. (I’m glad the word “through” worked for you regarding the transubstantiation lines.) That, in part, led me to the beloved hymn “How Great Thou Art” whose words I borrowed in order to attempt to express the ineffable joy that my love of God brings me. I acknowledge the fact that my most deeply personal poetry is not necessarily what people want to read. That’s quite alright. In the end, it’s between God and me. I hope you had a very happy and meaningful Easter, Margaret. Reply Susan Jarvis Bryant April 10, 2023 Brian, this beautifully crafted poem has swept me up in its praise and wonder and lifted my spirits high enough to experience the glorious significance of the resurrection. “Death where is thy sting!” (a perfectly placed quote) indeed! This poem (in all its joyous and mellifluous splendor) captures the essence of Easter Sunday and makes me even more grateful for the gift bestowed on us by our Creator. This is a poem I want to sing out loud… this is a poem that exudes gratitude, and above all hope and joy, and we could all do with a huge dose of just that in these dark times. My favorite lines are: To see the Church and Savior truly wed— A shining light which darkness cannot part. All grief from Friday’s sorrow has been shed. How great Thou art, my God, how great Thou art! Brian, thank you very much! Reply Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Thank you so much, Susan! I surely hoped that readers’ spirits would be lifted and I’m glad that this is how it happened for you! The resurrection is indeed gloriously significant and no words can do it justice. But I think those of us who are inspired by Christ must try. Reply Cynthia Erlandson April 10, 2023 This is very musical, inspirational, and clearly heartfelt. A blessed Eastertide to you, Brian. Reply Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Thank you so much, Cynthia — and yes, as close to my heart as a poem can be. A blessed Eastertide to you as well! Reply Joshua C. Frank April 10, 2023 Brian, this is really good! The title, of course, brings to mind the hymn of the same name, and it’s fitting. The refrain is perfect for this. My favorite lines are, “Although it seems too few are worshiping/I focus on Your peace. I lift my head” — it really does seem that way. My experience has been that many who call themselves Christian are little different from those who don’t; thus to call oneself Christian means nothing anymore. The ballade form is a great choice, with its many rhymes and refrain. I love the form—and have since I first heard François Villon’s “Ballade des Dames du Temps Jadis” (“Ballad of the Ladies of Yore”) sung in French (we know it in English from the line, “Where are the snows of yesteryear?”). Reply Brian A Yapko April 11, 2023 Thank you very much, Josh! The ballade form is very intriguing to me for some reason — partly because it is so demanding but also because it does have a musical quality I really enjoy. As for the “too few worshiping” I think you say a lot about the many who call themselves Christians but really aren’t believing Christians. Many of them are fictionalists who don’t really believe yet claim faith and act “as-if” more for tribal reasons than spiritual ones. Many are adherents to a succedaneous set of values such as social justice warriors. And many are engaged in juggling competing values so they can have their cake and eat it too — of claiming to be Christian and yet accepting things that Jesus and Biblical law condemn in the interests of being considered ecumenical and compassionate. But in trying so hard to be nonjudgmental they actually become derelict by throwing God-given discernment out the window. Reply Margaret Coats April 11, 2023 We are short of devotional poetry. Keep writing it, as something the poet owes to God the author of his gifts and talents, but also to his cultural landscape, whether or not readers appreciate it at the present time. In English, we are short because of the destruction of the monastic libraries by Henry VIII. As classical readers and writers, we are short because we ignore the devotional riches of Latin and Greek. When I look at library shelves of medieval literature, about a third of it is devotional, and from that I exclude what I would call moral poetry (didactic or exemplary works on how to live a good life), of which there is plenty. Our poetic proportions may be out of balance, and any poet who feels the inspiration should work to correct them. We have no lack of personal poetry, but too often at present it reflects personal lore of no value or interest because the whole man including the spirit is left out. It is what you often call “narcissistic,” and devotional poetry is the opposite of that. Reply Brian A Yapko April 12, 2023 Thank you, Margaret, for this affirmation of the need for, and the power of, devotional poetry. I don’t know to what extent “How Great Thou Art” qualifies since it is less theological and more in the nature of my personal Easter experience – and yet it is indeed devoted to Our Lord and, moreover, it comes from the heart and with deep respect for the institutions of the Church. I can only hope and pray that this is pleasing to the Lord. Much like the Little Drummer Boy, “I play my best for Him.” That He has given me the ability to set words down on paper and allow them to be halfway readable is a deep blessing which I never take for granted. I do indeed owe Him everything, including the fruits of those gifts with which He has graced me. I also appreciate your insights regarding what is needed for the cultural landscape. You offer a compelling perspective on the obligations of a poet of faith and what needs his or her poetic work might fill. But, at least for me, there is a strong complimentary need for me to use my abilities as a writer to bring about a certain amount of change or to at least offer a bit of insight regarding issues which are not necessarily spiritual or theological. While your approach to poetry may be rooted in the Church and Academia, my approach is a hybrid of my degree in English Literature as filtered through almost 36 years of being a lawyer – and an active litigator for 30 of those years. I have an instinct and, I have been told, a certain talent – for being an advocate and an observer of human nature, which includes the frankly rotten as well as the sublime. I’ve been involved in everything from first-degree murder to medical malpractice to child abuse issues. Part of what I bring to the poetic table is a unique range of human experience and observation. I consider that experience to be an asset to my poetry rather than something to be segregated from it. If pressed to describe my own poetic style, I would call myself a generalist. As such, I have many experiences and observations which I must write about which do not necessarily lend themselves to devotional work. I want very much for my work to be spiritually uplifting, but I do not want to miss the opportunity to offer hard-hitting advocacy regarding social issues, nor do I want to take myself so seriously that I can’t have some fun with poetry through the use of satire or simple old-fashioned comedy. I am also something of a history buff. Concerning my own poetry, I am endlessly fascinated by the fact that history presents so many examples that offer illumination concerning contentious issues in our modern world. Thus, I have found that I could say more with my “Mourning Louis XVI”, “Farinelli” or “Elagabalus” than I could by simply writing polemics against, respectively, Cancel Culture, the Abuse of Prepubescent Children, and the Abominable Nature of the Transgender Hegemony. I really do strive for balance and I think any poet is well-advised to acquire a certain amount of range. Historical corollaries (i.e. dramatic monologues) are a part of that – at least for me. I agree with you regarding the surfeit of personal poetry which veers into the narcissistic. Poetic navel-gazing is seldom attractive, instructive or entertaining. But barring such narcissism, there is room for all sorts of good, classical poetry – whether sacred or secular, serious or comic. Using music as a parallel, I greatly admire J.S. Bach’s sacred pieces. In fact, I’ve written a poem on Bach’s Mass in B-Minor which will appear here in May. But I also love Bach’s Coffee Cantata, which is quite secular and, I believe, was a bit scandalous in its day. And then there is Mozart, whose Requiem is for me the most sublime work of sacred music. Yet he had the range and inspiration to write trifling masterpieces like The Marriage of Figaro or The Abduction from the Seraglio, or even something as darkly sensual – albeit with a strong moral – as Don Giovanni. I cannot bring myself to believe anything other than that all of the works of Mozart were divinely inspired, both the sublime and the earthy. When it comes to music I love everything from Buxtehude to the Beatles. Are all pieces of music created equal? No, not by a long shot. Nor is poetry. But there is much room for many voices. All that being said, challenge accepted, Margaret. I will continue to write devotional poetry because it is in my heart to do so: I love writing about the saints and the Bible, I love praising God, and I will never stop. But I am also drawn to write about personal observations, whether political or social; I am drawn to write about human nature — the good and the bad — and I am led as well to advocate and entertain. Each poem I write is like a child – some make me proud, some disappoint me, but each one — for better or worse — has a place in my heart. I would urge any reader to keep an open mind regarding what he or she reads here — sometimes the most profound flashes of insight can come from unexpected places. The Holy Spirit works in unfathomable ways. Thank you again, Margaret, for your carefully considered thoughts on poetry – particularly my body of work – and for the unfailingly inspiring and authentically spiritual point of view you bring to your work – poetry and comments alike. And thank you for giving me a chance to explain where I’m coming from both with this and other poems that I’ve written. Continued Easter blessings to you. Reply Leave a Reply Cancel ReplyYour email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Δ This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.
Roy Eugene Peterson April 9, 2023 Your heart stirring poetry is a wonderful Easter message of the death and resurrection of Christ with the special inclusion of the great originally Swedish song, “How Great Thou Art.” I can feel the earnest words and place myself in that glorious setting with the congregation singing and the bells of resurrection defying death on the cross. Have a blessed Easter! Reply
Brian A Yapko April 9, 2023 Thank you very much, Roy! I love “How Great Thou Art” and I’ve so hoped to be able to work it into a poem. It’s not an Easter hymn but there’s no reason why it couldn’t be! Have a blessed Easter as well! Reply
Margaret Coats April 10, 2023 Brian, I am astonished at how many threads of the Easter liturgy you pick up to weave this extraordinary ballade. It is a real ballade with only three rhyme sounds in 28 lines, but that is the least of its glories. It gives a feeling of immediate experience of the Resurrection, from a witness to it through the Church’s re-presentation. You do justice to “How Great Thou Art” as we have it in English, with the center stanza on the Father’s sacrifice of His Son, but your own “how great” has yet another approach. How great God is–not only to lower himself to become man, but to be known through a Church made up of sinners, and to join himself intimately to the faithful through (yes, “through” seems to be the correct word) bread and wine. These are in fact the works of mankind whose appearances the great God is willing to take on in order to become our nourishment. The line about too few worshippers is striking. This must be the way it looks to anyone who recognizes God’s greatness, but worship is a choice. We can recall that even in Christ’s foreshadowing of the Eucharist, saying He would give his flesh to eat and his blood to drink, He lost many followers. This was not kosher, and even the closest disciples may have thought of leaving. They had to look at worship as He planned it. That kind of vision is offered to everyone, but fully taken up and comprehended by few. One of those is your speaker, and the way you present the elements of his experience show that it is a human response to divine greatness. Reply
Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Margaret, I am so happy to receive this generous comment. Thank you! For some reason, my most devotional poetry seems to take the form of a ballade and this is the third time I’ve written my most personal spiritual contemplations into ballade form. Perhaps it’s because the rhymes are so demanding — as you well know from your ballades royale — working within that level of intricacy is not just an exercise in being meticulous. Rather, it can become a truly meditative spiritual experience. I did indeed hope to bring as much of the Easter service into the poem as possible, but not in a journalistic way — As you perceptively observe, I wanted to share my very “human response to divine greatness” — one of great joy, elation, relief and ultimately the sense that through God all things are possible. (I’m glad the word “through” worked for you regarding the transubstantiation lines.) That, in part, led me to the beloved hymn “How Great Thou Art” whose words I borrowed in order to attempt to express the ineffable joy that my love of God brings me. I acknowledge the fact that my most deeply personal poetry is not necessarily what people want to read. That’s quite alright. In the end, it’s between God and me. I hope you had a very happy and meaningful Easter, Margaret. Reply
Susan Jarvis Bryant April 10, 2023 Brian, this beautifully crafted poem has swept me up in its praise and wonder and lifted my spirits high enough to experience the glorious significance of the resurrection. “Death where is thy sting!” (a perfectly placed quote) indeed! This poem (in all its joyous and mellifluous splendor) captures the essence of Easter Sunday and makes me even more grateful for the gift bestowed on us by our Creator. This is a poem I want to sing out loud… this is a poem that exudes gratitude, and above all hope and joy, and we could all do with a huge dose of just that in these dark times. My favorite lines are: To see the Church and Savior truly wed— A shining light which darkness cannot part. All grief from Friday’s sorrow has been shed. How great Thou art, my God, how great Thou art! Brian, thank you very much! Reply
Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Thank you so much, Susan! I surely hoped that readers’ spirits would be lifted and I’m glad that this is how it happened for you! The resurrection is indeed gloriously significant and no words can do it justice. But I think those of us who are inspired by Christ must try. Reply
Cynthia Erlandson April 10, 2023 This is very musical, inspirational, and clearly heartfelt. A blessed Eastertide to you, Brian. Reply
Brian A Yapko April 10, 2023 Thank you so much, Cynthia — and yes, as close to my heart as a poem can be. A blessed Eastertide to you as well! Reply
Joshua C. Frank April 10, 2023 Brian, this is really good! The title, of course, brings to mind the hymn of the same name, and it’s fitting. The refrain is perfect for this. My favorite lines are, “Although it seems too few are worshiping/I focus on Your peace. I lift my head” — it really does seem that way. My experience has been that many who call themselves Christian are little different from those who don’t; thus to call oneself Christian means nothing anymore. The ballade form is a great choice, with its many rhymes and refrain. I love the form—and have since I first heard François Villon’s “Ballade des Dames du Temps Jadis” (“Ballad of the Ladies of Yore”) sung in French (we know it in English from the line, “Where are the snows of yesteryear?”). Reply
Brian A Yapko April 11, 2023 Thank you very much, Josh! The ballade form is very intriguing to me for some reason — partly because it is so demanding but also because it does have a musical quality I really enjoy. As for the “too few worshiping” I think you say a lot about the many who call themselves Christians but really aren’t believing Christians. Many of them are fictionalists who don’t really believe yet claim faith and act “as-if” more for tribal reasons than spiritual ones. Many are adherents to a succedaneous set of values such as social justice warriors. And many are engaged in juggling competing values so they can have their cake and eat it too — of claiming to be Christian and yet accepting things that Jesus and Biblical law condemn in the interests of being considered ecumenical and compassionate. But in trying so hard to be nonjudgmental they actually become derelict by throwing God-given discernment out the window. Reply
Margaret Coats April 11, 2023 We are short of devotional poetry. Keep writing it, as something the poet owes to God the author of his gifts and talents, but also to his cultural landscape, whether or not readers appreciate it at the present time. In English, we are short because of the destruction of the monastic libraries by Henry VIII. As classical readers and writers, we are short because we ignore the devotional riches of Latin and Greek. When I look at library shelves of medieval literature, about a third of it is devotional, and from that I exclude what I would call moral poetry (didactic or exemplary works on how to live a good life), of which there is plenty. Our poetic proportions may be out of balance, and any poet who feels the inspiration should work to correct them. We have no lack of personal poetry, but too often at present it reflects personal lore of no value or interest because the whole man including the spirit is left out. It is what you often call “narcissistic,” and devotional poetry is the opposite of that. Reply
Brian A Yapko April 12, 2023 Thank you, Margaret, for this affirmation of the need for, and the power of, devotional poetry. I don’t know to what extent “How Great Thou Art” qualifies since it is less theological and more in the nature of my personal Easter experience – and yet it is indeed devoted to Our Lord and, moreover, it comes from the heart and with deep respect for the institutions of the Church. I can only hope and pray that this is pleasing to the Lord. Much like the Little Drummer Boy, “I play my best for Him.” That He has given me the ability to set words down on paper and allow them to be halfway readable is a deep blessing which I never take for granted. I do indeed owe Him everything, including the fruits of those gifts with which He has graced me. I also appreciate your insights regarding what is needed for the cultural landscape. You offer a compelling perspective on the obligations of a poet of faith and what needs his or her poetic work might fill. But, at least for me, there is a strong complimentary need for me to use my abilities as a writer to bring about a certain amount of change or to at least offer a bit of insight regarding issues which are not necessarily spiritual or theological. While your approach to poetry may be rooted in the Church and Academia, my approach is a hybrid of my degree in English Literature as filtered through almost 36 years of being a lawyer – and an active litigator for 30 of those years. I have an instinct and, I have been told, a certain talent – for being an advocate and an observer of human nature, which includes the frankly rotten as well as the sublime. I’ve been involved in everything from first-degree murder to medical malpractice to child abuse issues. Part of what I bring to the poetic table is a unique range of human experience and observation. I consider that experience to be an asset to my poetry rather than something to be segregated from it. If pressed to describe my own poetic style, I would call myself a generalist. As such, I have many experiences and observations which I must write about which do not necessarily lend themselves to devotional work. I want very much for my work to be spiritually uplifting, but I do not want to miss the opportunity to offer hard-hitting advocacy regarding social issues, nor do I want to take myself so seriously that I can’t have some fun with poetry through the use of satire or simple old-fashioned comedy. I am also something of a history buff. Concerning my own poetry, I am endlessly fascinated by the fact that history presents so many examples that offer illumination concerning contentious issues in our modern world. Thus, I have found that I could say more with my “Mourning Louis XVI”, “Farinelli” or “Elagabalus” than I could by simply writing polemics against, respectively, Cancel Culture, the Abuse of Prepubescent Children, and the Abominable Nature of the Transgender Hegemony. I really do strive for balance and I think any poet is well-advised to acquire a certain amount of range. Historical corollaries (i.e. dramatic monologues) are a part of that – at least for me. I agree with you regarding the surfeit of personal poetry which veers into the narcissistic. Poetic navel-gazing is seldom attractive, instructive or entertaining. But barring such narcissism, there is room for all sorts of good, classical poetry – whether sacred or secular, serious or comic. Using music as a parallel, I greatly admire J.S. Bach’s sacred pieces. In fact, I’ve written a poem on Bach’s Mass in B-Minor which will appear here in May. But I also love Bach’s Coffee Cantata, which is quite secular and, I believe, was a bit scandalous in its day. And then there is Mozart, whose Requiem is for me the most sublime work of sacred music. Yet he had the range and inspiration to write trifling masterpieces like The Marriage of Figaro or The Abduction from the Seraglio, or even something as darkly sensual – albeit with a strong moral – as Don Giovanni. I cannot bring myself to believe anything other than that all of the works of Mozart were divinely inspired, both the sublime and the earthy. When it comes to music I love everything from Buxtehude to the Beatles. Are all pieces of music created equal? No, not by a long shot. Nor is poetry. But there is much room for many voices. All that being said, challenge accepted, Margaret. I will continue to write devotional poetry because it is in my heart to do so: I love writing about the saints and the Bible, I love praising God, and I will never stop. But I am also drawn to write about personal observations, whether political or social; I am drawn to write about human nature — the good and the bad — and I am led as well to advocate and entertain. Each poem I write is like a child – some make me proud, some disappoint me, but each one — for better or worse — has a place in my heart. I would urge any reader to keep an open mind regarding what he or she reads here — sometimes the most profound flashes of insight can come from unexpected places. The Holy Spirit works in unfathomable ways. Thank you again, Margaret, for your carefully considered thoughts on poetry – particularly my body of work – and for the unfailingly inspiring and authentically spiritual point of view you bring to your work – poetry and comments alike. And thank you for giving me a chance to explain where I’m coming from both with this and other poems that I’ve written. Continued Easter blessings to you. Reply
