“Christ plays in ten thousand places”

Today, a poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins that touched me about the way God calls each of us to become more fully who we are–and how Christ is always present with us, in us, and in the lives of those we meet.

(Sorry to those of you who aren’t poetry fans. We try to be eclectic around here! We’ll have something different tomorrow….) :-)

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell’s
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves—goes itself; myself it speaks and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.

Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps gráce: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God’s eye what in God’s eye he is—
Chríst—for Christ plays in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men’s faces.

(The whole poem is found many places, but one is here.)

Image: “Aidan’s gift” by Lawrence OP, used under a Creative Commons license.

My thousand Eucharists
Your job is NOT a vocation
A poem for #EarthDay. Careful where you walk.
The agony: a poem for #GoodFriday
About Jennifer Woodruff Tait

I'm the managing editor of the Patheos Faith and Work Channel, the managing editor of Christian History Magazine, and an intentionally bivocational candidate for ordination in the Episcopal Church. I'm also the author of The Poisoned Chalice and Histories of Us.


CLOSE | X

HIDE | X