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“As Kingfishers Catch Fire” by Gerard Manley Hopkins

As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies draw flame;
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 dó is me: for that I came.

 

I say móre: the just man justices;
Keeps grace: 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.

I often think of Lent as a season of substitution. I am giving up something that is a part of me, to get God. I am removing entertainment, stimulants, or stress removers to allow God to provide adventure, energy, and rest. With this attitude I embrace lent with stoicism, sobriety, and expectancy. And as long as I consider Lent in this manner, I think I am bound to meet disappointment; I will inevitably fixate on whatever I am losing until I try to take it back.

The reality is, I think, that we are giving up things–things that we desire–to realize what we have already been given, and to realize that God is the giver. In the desert, Satan offered Jesus food, identity, purpose, and authority over the earth. Satan, however, did not even have the power to provide those things in a way that was true and eternal, because Jesus already HAD those things. God had already given all of these things to him. Lent, then, is to embrace the identity you’ve been given, to look at your most core, raw, and natural self, and to realize that your being is enough. Your being is the kindling with which God will create a mighty, roaring flame. Christ becomes exceedingly more beautiful when your nature becomes apart of his will.

So, come Easter day, emerge from your Lenten season as a kingfisher catches fire.

About Daniel Buckley

I am a graduate student studying english education in the deep south, and I am endlessly in love with Jesus, Flannery O' Connor, and other social pariahs.

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“Ash Wednesday” by T.S. Eliot (Part I)

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man’s gift and that man’s scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the agèd eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And I pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

Have a blessed Ash Wednesday from T&L.