The Scaffolding of Sanctification: A Review of City Nave

Much like life, sanctification begins in the dark and proceeds into the light. A Christian wakes to new life — St. Paul tells us that we leave “the old man” behind for “the new man” — but the Christian cannot stop there. St. Paul also tells us to run the race of life with endurance so that, at the end, we may claim victory. But the Christian setting out on their way does not run alone; we are given help along the way. God sends us the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, but we are also given saints to take as examples. God also establishes his Church to house his people, and the Church is not simply an ethereal idea — it’s a place you can touch, a building whose coarse stones you can trace with your forefinger.

Betsy K. Brown understands this, and in her collection of poems titled City Nave, she walks through a cathedral meditating on its architecture and spirit. Yet, she is not simply wandering the halls, she’s moving towards something, and by the end of the book, readers arrive at the altar and at new life.

Beginning in the “dark ages,” Brown introduces the themes of chaos and blindness. Figures scrawl runes on their arms; why they do this, we are not told. Is it a part of a ritual? We are given no answers. Yet, the poem ends in hope with the word “rebuild.” Titled “Stairs,” the first section of City Nave sets us outside the Church but on our way up, if we choose to walk that path.

Once inside, Brown explores many different facets of the human experience. He asks questions about friendship, she eulogizes past family members, and ponders entanglement theory. Weaving these subjects throughout the narrative structure of a cathedral reminds me of stained glass windows. There is a cathedral in my home town that has five windows that line the perimeter of the nave, and those windows are slowly becoming stained glass that depict scenes from Holy Scripture. Brown’s poems depict vignettes from everyday life. In a poem titled “Cursive,” Brown starts with “In the beginning was one word, / A word continuous and full, / A single thread of ink, I’ve heard….” The allusion to the beginning of the Gospel of St. John is undeniable — the act of writing in cursive is more than just putting ink on the page, it becomes an analogy for God’s redemptive arc for all of Creation. She ends the poem:

 The longest line the light once drew
Will in the end still be one word,
And all that’s broken may be new,
A single thread of ink, I’ve heard.

In the title poem, an explorer is set in a storm on the sea sailing toward some unknown destination. She draws a connection between the “city’s shifting halls” and the “This ancient, mighty haven, grim and good,” which I took as an allusion to the cathedral itself — the explorer comes within this haven and is offered drink and food. For the city to act like a nave, the world must be confused; it must be going to the city, to the worldly things on offer in Sodom and Gomorrah, for its food and drink. Brown points out what a mistake that is, and we only have peace once there is a return to the cathedral. The nave within the cathedral is the true world. Brown mentions that “good and grim” are both held within this nave, and she offers a sobering taste of reality that can only be found in the Church. Just like the stained glass windows, reality within the Church is much brighter, with all of its faults and beauties, than anything the World has to offer.

Structurally, the book ends at “The Altar.” After this slow procession through life’s ups and downs, we end at the altar where the cornerstone, the heart, of Christianity is found: Christ’s Body and Blood are given to his people so that they might be joined with him in salvation. Sanctification reaches its fever pitch at the altar. With the exception of joining Christ in eternal life, there is no closer a Christian can get to God than the altar. The final poem of the book tells about buying a house on the Feast Day of St. Francis. Love is central to this poem, but so is place. “We will own everything, nothing. We will / Be close enough to our jobs to get by. / We will call a piece of earth our own.” They have arrived at a place that brings peace through love, and part of that love originates from it becoming you. The altar takes Christians and joins them to Christ through Christ’s love; the house becomes theirs through love. It is the final piece of scaffolding.

City Nave: Poems
By Betsy K. Brown
Eugene, OR: Resource Publications, 2024; 78pp

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