WRFH/Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM - The Poetry Fix: The Sacrifice, Part One

Episode Date: April 17, 2025

Today, Erika Kyba reads an excerpt from George Herbert's The Sacrifice, a beautiful meditation on the Passion.

Welcome to the Poetry Fix on Radio Free Hillsdale 101.7 FM. I'm your host, Erica Kaiba, bringing you your weekly fix of poetry from across time. Today, in honor of Eastertide, we're reading George Herbert's The Sacrifice. This poem is very effective for entering into the mystery of Christ's passion. It's essentially Herbert's meditation on Christ's experience as he has led to the cross. The poem continually returns to the theme that the Messiah is the one that brings life. to the very people who seek to torment and kill him, a fact that is as jarring and ironic as it is tragic.

With all that said, let's dive in. The Sacrifice by George Herbert. O all ye who pass by, whose eyes and mine to worldly things are sharp, but to me blind, to me who took eyes that I might you find, was ever grief like mine. The princes of my people make a head against their maker.

They do wish me dead, who cannot wish, except I give them bread, was ever grief like mine. Without me, each one, who doth now me brave, had to this day been an Egyptian slave. They used that power against me which I gave, was ever grief like mine. My known apostle, who the bag did bear, though he had all I had did not forbear to sell me also, and to put me there, was ever grief like mine. For thirty pence he did my death devise, who at three hundred did, the ointment prize, not half so sweet as my sweet sacrifice, was ever grief like mine.

Therefore my soul melts, and my heart's dear treasure drops blood, the only beads, my words to measure. O let this cup pass, if it be thy pleasure, was ever grief like mine. These drops being tempered with a sinner's tears, a balsam are for both the hemispheres, curing all wounds but mine, all but my fears, was ever grieved. Like mine. Yet my disciples sleep. I cannot gain one hour of watching, but their drowsy brain comforts not me.

And doth my doctrine stain was ever grief like mine. Arise, arise, they come, look how they run. Alas! What haste they make to be undone. How with their lanterns do they seek the sun was ever grief like mine. With clubs and staves they seek me as a thief, Who am the way of truth, the true relief, most true to those who are my greatest grief, was ever grief like mine.

Judas, dost thou betray me with a kiss? Canst thou find hell about my lips and miss of life? Just at the gates of life and bliss? Was ever grief like mine? See, they lay hold on me, not with the hands of faith, but fury. Yet at their commands I suffer binding, who have loosed their bands, was ever brief like mine. All my disciples fly, fear puts a bar betwixt my friends and me. They leave the star that brought the wise men of the east from far, was ever grief like mine.

Then from one ruler to another bound, they lead me, urging that it was not sound what I taught. Comments would the text confound, was ever grief like mine. The priest and rulers all false witness seek against him who seeks not life, But is the meek and ready pascal lamb of this great week, was ever grief like mine. Then they accused me of great blasphemy, that I did thrust into the deity, who never thought that any robbery was ever grief like mine. Some said that I the temple to the floor in three days raised, and raised it as before, by he that built the world can do much more, was ever grief like mine.

Then they condemn me all with that same breath which I do give them, daily unto death. Thus Adam my first breathing rendereth was ever grief like mine. You've been listening to The Poetry Fix with Erica Kaiba. If you enjoyed this episode, consider following the Poetry Fix on Spotify, YouTube, or Apple Podcasts. And if you have any poems you want to see in a future episode, email your suggestions to The Poetry Fix at gmail.com. Join me next week and we'll be continuing our journey through the sacrifice. Thank you.