On the surface, what appears to be a blatant rebellion against the Christian reforms that swept through New England in the 19th century could be misinterpreted as a lack of spiritual inclination. If we look under a single veneer, we will undoubtedly find true spirituality at the heart of his endeavor; far from snubbing God, but simply insisting on nothing less than a first-hand experience of Him.
The poet rejected religious doctrine, but did she avoid religion? Certainly not as a whole, and even then it may simply be a question of syntax. The words ‘religion’ and ‘spirituality’ can sometimes be used interchangeably, and at other times a fine distinction must be made. Charles Anderson chooses not to make distinctions, using the word ‘religion’ in its broadest and perhaps most primary sense:
“The ultimate direction of his poetry, and the pressures that created it, can only be described as religious, using that word in its ‘depth dimension.’
Emily inherited the Puritan traits of austerity, simplicity, and practicality, as well as a shrewd observation of the inner self, but her communication with her Higher Self was far more informal than her God-fearing ancestors would have dared. Daughter of the Amherst ‘Squire’, she came from a line of brave and staunch pioneers, who wore what was almost considered America’s blue blood. Her family was far from poor, but she did not lead a luxurious life, because the Puritans abhorred luxury and waste (even waste of words, a trait the poet may have done well to inherit).
She accepted the Puritan ideals of being ‘called’ or ‘chosen’ by God, and fully embraced the merits of transcending desire, but not the concept of being inherently sinful:
“While the clergyman tells the father and Vinnie that ‘this corrupt will become incorruption’, he has already done so and they are disappointed.”
She had faith in her own divinity, so perhaps she was even more sure of God than her peers. She did not pretend to fully understand him, or even to have a perennial faith in all his ways — her poetry carries a continual tension of doubt — but she certainly did not fear him. The inner freedom this afforded her, uncommon for a woman of her time, led her to the point of being almost brazen in her familiarity and certainty. This confidence nurtured his poetry sumptuously and gave him the well-known childlike quality. For her, the truth was in nature. In that beauty I could see and feel God directly:
“Some keep the Sabbath by going to church –
I keep it, staying home –
With a Bobolink for a showgirl –
And an orchard, for a dome –
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice –
I just use my wings
And instead of ringing the bell, for the Church,
Our little Sexton – sings.
God preaches, a prominent clergyman:
And the sermon is never long
So instead of getting to heaven, finally …
I go, all the time. “
Emily attended church regularly, sometimes traveling to hear from some of the enthusiastic and charismatic preachers who made their mark at that time. She was often moved by these sermons, perhaps as driven by the speaker’s expression and word construction as the message within them. But this was not enough to tempt her to succumb to the fierce religious revival. One by one, her friends received an inner call and were ‘saved’, officially accepting Christianity. Members of his close-knit family eventually followed suit, including his strong-willed father and eventually his brother, Austin, perhaps his closest ally. Emily would not commit to something she could not honestly feel, even under the unthinkable social pressure that surrounded her.
She continued to attend church until she was 30, although she was excluded from certain meetings and services open only to those who had been ‘saved’. She became increasingly lonely throughout her 30 years. It is tempting to view his seclusion as further proof of spiritual asceticism. His spiritual path was certainly intensely lonely in such a social climate, but he longed for solitude more and more, and seclusion somehow formed a symbiotic relationship with his art. His art increasingly became an expression of his spirituality.
Immortality (“the subject of the flood” as she called him) consumed Emily’s consciousness. Living in death was natural in those days, as disease and general difficulties often took lives around him, his awareness further increased by the many years he spent in a house next to a cemetery. But stopping at death was also almost a spiritual practice, a ‘graveyard meditation’, a means of concentration, bringing to life the concepts of Eternity, Infinity and Immortality.
The poet and philosopher Sri Chinmoy said of the poet:
“Emily Dickinson wrote thousands of psychic poems. A little poem of hers is enough to give sweet feelings and highlight the divine qualities of the soul.”
“With a deep sense of gratitude, let me invoke the immortal soul of Emily Dickinson, whose spiritual inspiration prompts the seeker to know precisely what God the Infinite is. She says:
‘Infinity a sudden guest
It has been assumed to be
But how can that great come?
Which never left? ‘”
What constantly drove her was that she needed the truth, at any cost. She needed to see it with her own eyes and feel it with her own heart, not grasp it with the words of a clergyman, but explain herself in her own words. It seems that she was even willing to die for his cause:
I died for the beauty
“I died for the beauty, but it was scarce
Adjusted in the grave
When one who died for the truth was lying down
In an adjoining room.
Emily’s search for truth was a spiritual quest that ruled her inner life and naturally flourished through her poetic works. His own words, in a letter to a friend, succinctly affirm that Eternity and Immortality are his. Perhaps they also herald the enduring spiritual appeal of his writings, well beyond the brief span of his life:
“So I come to the conclusion that space and time are things of the body and have little or nothing to do with ourselves. My country is the truth.”