The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.And for all this nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning at the brown brink eastward, springs—
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. – Gerald Manley Hopkins, S.J.
Gerald Manley Hopkins, S.J. (1844-1889)
The world is ancient, and millions of people have inhabited the earth throughout the ages. This vast home to people of every tribe and civilization has undergone great use in providing food, shelter, clothing, and resources for the world’s population for thousands of years. This constant demand upon the earth’s supplies with new generations replacing older generations, however, does not deplete the riches of creation. Though “Generations have trod, have trod, have trod,” man has not exhausted Nature’s abundance or limited her life-giving fertility.
The world is not in need of repair or replacement of parts. Although man leaves dirty footprints, and man’s labors produce stains, and the earth appears to need a thorough housecleaning, the creation always remains young and fresh despite man’s traces of neglect and ruin. While the earth gives the impression of being worn, overused, aged, or despoiled (“the soil is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod”), it is never dead or decaying because of the divine energy that infuses it. Like electricity, “the world is charged”; like a smoldering fire, the world ignites and “will flame out”; like water in its course building momentum and mounting its forcefulness, this divine energy “gathers to a greatness” as it waits to release its power. On the outside the world can appear in a state of decline or impoverishment, but a hidden interior movement breathes life, energy, and vigor into creation and makes Mother Nature young and the world “charged with the grandeur of God.”
This constant recreation and rejuvenation of the world that makes it new, beautiful, and alive originates in a spiritual power that Hopkins identifies with the Holy Spirit whose mysterious, surprising movements come as bursts or surges—a bird biding its time, awaiting a sign of the dawn, and then flashing through the sky at the first sign of the new day: “Oh, morning at the brown brink eastward, springs.”
While God the Father created the heavens and the earth and God the Son became the Word made Flesh in human history, God the Holy Spirit—symbolized by the dove and the fire—comes and goes, hides and reveals, waits and acts. All the verbs in this poem denote the activity of the Holy Spirit that charges, flames out, gathers to greatness, springs, and flies. “There lives the dearest freshness deep down things” because of the hiddenness of God, the mystery of the Holy Spirit, and the divine life that infuses creation.
Every time spring fills the air, every time a child is born, every time a wedding is blessed, every time a person is absolved of sins, every time hope fills a human heart, every time a person receives Holy Communion, every time kindness touches the human heart, every time a prayer is answered, every time a person senses the hand of Divine Providence, the power of the Holy Spirit breathes fresh air into the world, and the truth of Hopkins’ line about the “dearest freshness deep down things” bursts upon the mind. Even though the world continues to grow older and generations continue to trod and wear out the grass, God’s creation does not age or wilt because goodness, truth, and beauty cannot be emptied.
Spiritual goods, no matter how spent, cannot be exhausted because they partake of God’s fullness of being, his transcendental abundance that has no limits or boundaries. Whereas a person who gives a material gift of $1,000 to another person is diminished by that amount of money, a person who gives the spiritual gifts of charity, friendship, or kindness always possesses more of that love to offer.
Spiritual goodness—unlike material possessions—does not decrease but receives more to give when it is offered because the source of that goodness and power is divine. Like the bird awaiting the hint of the new day to race across the sky with “warm breast and with ah! bright wings,” the Holy Spirit, present but hidden, is ready to inspire the heart with the fire of youth and moves the soul with passion to fall in love with life all over again.
Mitchell Kalpakgian, Ph.D. earned degrees in English from Bowdoin College (B.A.), The University of Kansas (M.A.), and The University of Iowa (Ph.D.). He has completed fifty years of teaching beginning as a teaching assistant at the University of Kansas, continuing as a professor of English at Simpson College in Iowa for thirty-one years, and recently teaching part-time at various schools and college in New Hampshire (Thomas More College, The College of Saint Mary Magdalen, Mount Royal Academy, and New England Classical Academy.
He is a contributing editor of New Oxford Review, writes for Saint Austin Review and Homiletic and Pastoral Review, and reviews books for The Wanderer. He has published seven books: The Marvelous in Fielding’s Novels, The Mysteries of Life in Children’s Literature, The Lost Arts of Modern Civilization, An Armenian Family Reunion (a collection of short stories), Modern Manners: The Poetry of Conduct and The Virtue of Civility, and The Virtues We Need Again. He has designed homeschooling literature courses for Seton Home School, and he also teaches online courses for Fisher More College and Fisher More Academy.
Print 
PDF 