‘Tyger Tyger, burning bright’

THERE exists an age-old Christian dilemma, in fact it possibly extends into most faiths, one that believers have battled with and struggled to get their heads around since we first adored toward the heavens: if God is all-loving, why does he oversee, create or indeed facilitate evil, or at least perceived evil?

If this same God is all-knowing, well, then, the same questions arise. How, in this Garden of Eden he has created, if he knows of the dire consequences and disasters that can unfold all around us, given certain circumstances, does he tolerate the beginning of any chain of events that may prove responsible?

Our explanations for evil usually revolve around discussions on free will, and the choices us humans make. On repentance, on corrective discipline, and on the Creator’s ability to see the bigger picture.

I remember as a young student, posing the question to a visiting Missionary priest to our school, why, if God knows the outcome, does he allow us make the disastrous choice?

He bamboozled me with a Latin term which had been decided upon at some Vatican Council or other which, in their doctrine more or less tidied the matter up. A loophole, as it were.

To me, at the time, it was as clear as Irish Grammar, but, I was probably only trying to be clever anyway, so, good enough for me! But, what I didn’t appreciate at the time, and could never have fully understood, was our collective inaccurate perception regarding all things good and evil.

If an eight-year-old child in a village in India, some evening strays from the populace and is eaten by a tiger, this is not completely a bad thing, in this world, created by our Creator . At least not for the tiger! It’s called fearful symmetry. And it firmly puts our human self-obsession, back in its place.

In his poem ‘The Tyger’, William Blake (1757 -1827) wrestles, it would appear, with this dilemma. His tiger is a fearsome beast. A stalking, ruthless, killing machine. A symbol of Evil. Its image is colourfully and fearfully painted for us with the usage of such language and terms as; burning, fearful, fire, dread, furnace, deadly, terror. The poem’s voice ponders over the Creator being responsible for such a ferocious creature. Fire equals terror. Do not get burnt. This is evil. Quite at odds with the Lamb in the fifth stanza.

But both are vital. Both compare to the choices of free will. Or, one might compare both to the Old and New Testaments, the harsh, vengeful Old, versus the loving and forgiving New. Although Blake poses 13 questions here, he is doing so rhetorically. He accepts the balance. But crucially, he remains in awe. A sort of acceptance of the incredible even if that is to be underpinned by an existence of good and evil.

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies. Burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp,

Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

When the stars threw down their spears

And water’ d heaven with their tears:

Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?