Concordia Theological Seminary in St. Catharines, Ontario has done the Church a great service by publishing a new, expanded edition of Rev. Kurt Reinhardt’s poetry entitled My Light and My Salvation. My Light and My Salvation, expanded edition

The new edition contains 53 poems from the first edition. The only changes are a few typographic things and the addition of adding meter to the metrical poems, and in a few cases a suggested tune. The addition of meter, which follows through in the new poems as well, demonstrates just how much of Reinhardt’s poetry are hymns. A few were very obviously meant to be sung from the beginning, but now the clear indication is that all the metered texts could be sung to churchly tunes, and that it would be most appropriate to do so. 

The real value of this new volume are the 43 new poems. Reinhardt has grown. I loved the first edition and have been greatly edified by it, but the new poems are superior. Though I am hesitant to write it, lest I insult the poet, there was something slightly forced in the earlier poems. It was almost as if the younger Reinhardt was looking over his shoulder for doctrinal reviewers. 

The newer poems strike me as less preachy yet theologically richer. They are more intimate and sincere, and therefore more true, both in terms of conveying the beauty of creation and God’s gift of language and also of the truth of the Gospel. It is clear to me that the poet has faced death in himself and in his loved ones and now fears no man. He speaks and sings the truth from his heart as God has given it to him. 

While not extravagantly rich or creative with new imagery, the imagery is well done. The turns of phrase are fitting and practical rather than clever. The rhythm and rhyme are spot on, not flashy. There is no sophomoric need for attention. It is poetry that honors the language of our fathers without being slavish or artificial. Reinhardt is willing to use “gift” as a verb when it feels natural, but he doesn’t descend into neologism for its own sake or into slang. There are a number of moments when the poet is remarkably contemporary, surprising because his poetry speaks of eternal things. He manages to treat contemporary issues from an eternal and universal perspective that frees him of the need to point it out.

In the pointedly pro-life poem, Like a Priceless Diamond Bright, he sets the value of life not on its supposed sanctity but on what has been paid for it. There is a clever nod to the children's song Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and to the promise made to Abraham about his offspring. He gently redeems the words “wanted” and “planned” from the wicked organizations that claim humans create children sometimes by accident and that such children ought to be disposed of as unwanted refuse without ever mentioning the organizations or their lies. He also suggests that in addition to than wondering at the marvel of the stars in the sky and what they might be, we ought to stand in awe and wonder at the children of Abraham that number as the stars who have been bought at such a terrible price and are loved with such a magnificent and all-encompassing love. 

Like a Priceless Diamond Bright 

Like a priceless diamond bright,
Treasured is each human life;
Glistening in the Father’s sight,
Cherished is all human life.

Each one formed by Him with love,
Each one knitted by His hand,
Each one gifted from above,
Each one wanted, each one planned.

All their days He counts with care,
All are placed with purpose here,
All of them unique and rare,
All have value; all are dear.

Every life caused sacrifice,
Every life cost Him His Son,
Every life was worth the price,
Every life, each precious one.

Like a priceless diamond bright,
Our dear Father treasures life;
We are precious in His sight,
Through the love that gives us life.

Another example of this sort of nod to the contemporary world is found in With Martrys Raise Your Voice and Sing. It was written in honor of the 49 martyrs of Abitanae who, in defiance of Diocletian’s orders, died rather than stop meeting together to receive the Holy Communion. The poet, it seems, can imagine a sad time, like that under Diocletian, when the Sacrament might be torn away from us by the powerful with violence, but not a time when we would simply give up without a fight for the sake of material gain.

With Martyrs Raise Your Voice and Sing

With Martyrs raise your voice and sing,
We must have this one needful thing;
Without Christ’s feast we can’t survive,
It is what keeps our faith alive.

As life would starve without its bread,
Our souls will languish with the dead,
If we commune not with His flesh,
Nor be with His true blood refreshed.

God keep us from the woeful day, 
When it be torn from us away;
Without this feast we could but grieve,
And pray the famine be relieved.

If for a season we must know
a hunger, that true longing grow,
May God in mercy make it brief,
And with all speed grant us relief.

Lord, let us not this gift despise,
Nor let man tear it from our eyes;
With Martyrs help us take a stand
For what You give with Your own hand. 

Those two examples are typical. This is a volume of explicitly Christian poetry, of comfort in darkness and hope in the resurrection. But, for all of that, in my estimation, the best poem in the book is the last, which is, in a sense, the least theological: A Son Stands Guard. Reinhardt may have matured as a poet but his  connection to the Church Triumphant and the influence of his congregation’s cemetery, which was so evident in the first edition, remains central in the expanded edition. He has not grown away from what he was but more fully into it.  This poem could stand next to Shakespeare and Donne, Frost and Burns, in any anthology of great poetry, religious or otherwise. It is simply that well done and beautifully conveys the true goodness of sacrifice, altruism, and patriotism. 

He writes the following dedication for A Son Stands Guard: “Dedicated to the memory of MCpl Anthony Klumpenhouwer, a casualty of the Canadian Mission in Afghanistan, who is buried near an old maple tree in the small country cemetery of Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church near Kurtzville, Ontario.” 

The poem makes very effective use of repetition and of the maple leaf as  a symbol for Canada. There is also a nice nod to the national anthem with “On the north strong and free.” The poem depicts the passage of time through the seasons which begins not with Spring but with Fall. There, I suspect, is an allusion to the true history of the world. The last time the word tree is used, as the last word of the poem, it is capitalized. Is this a reference to the cross? Does the poet mean to say that MCpl Klumpenhouwer died for the sake of religious liberty in Canada or that he died in imitation of Christ? I don’t know and you can’t ask the poet. There is beauty in the ambiguity and the poet means to send you off into contemplation of both Christ’s sacrifice and of this young man.

A Son Stands Guard

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. (John 15:13)

A son stands on guard
By our great maple tree,
A son stands on guard
There for you and for me,
A son stands on guard
By our great maple tree.

As the leaves fall down
From our great maple tree,
As the leaves fall down
In our land true and free,
As the leaves fall down
He’s on guard by our tree.

As the snowflakes fall
On our great maple tree,
As the snowflakes fall
On the north strong and free,
As the snowflakes fall
He’s on guard by our tree.

As sap starts to run
In our great maple tree,
As sap starts to run
In our home rising free,
As sap starts to run
He’s on guard by our tree.

As leaves shade the ground
‘Neath our great maple tree,
As leaves shade the ground
Of our land growing free
As leaves shade the ground,
He’s on guard by our tree.

He gave up his life
For our great maple tree,
He gave up his life
Both for you and for me,
He gave up his life
To stand guard by our Tree.

Buy the book. Learn to read and love poetry. And say a pray of thanks for the sake of Kurt and his remarkable devotion to his flock as it abides both on earth and in glory.