The Jesuit poet Gerald Manley Hopkins wrote, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God." Perhaps in one of his many thoughtful moments, he had this profound sense of how this world, in which we live and move, and have our being, flames out, shines like foil that is shaken against the light. And like the ooze of oil, this world gathers to a greatness. Like many of us, Gerald Manley Hopkins must have heard how the sheer gentle beauty of our world whispers of it's creator's grandeur

Sadly, this home, which our God has created to be our very own, is now seared with frayed, bleared, smeared with toil. While adored with the colors and lushness that can be fashioned only by tendered, wide hands, our world now wears human smudge, and shares human smell. The smudge and smell of all but barren soil, of bewildering abuse, of disease, and pain, and strife. Upon this dwelling place, generations have trod, trod, trod, leaving behind only footprints, but only because they have taken away with them nearly everything that desperate, short human arms, tiny hands can grab at and snatch away

It may be hard to believe, but it is true. God's grandeur still persists in all its gentleness. His grandeur still fills the world. It is never obliterated, never vanquished. Indeed, this is possible only because the Lord Himself lives in this dwelling place He has wonderfully and tearfully made, and because of this, there still lives the dearest, freshest, deep down things

God's beauty springs forth in the world. Like a patient father, like a comforting mother, our God warmly broods over us with warm breast, and with, ah, bright wings