A reintroduction is in order.
As I’ve mentioned before, the title of this newsletter comes from Gerald Manley Hopkins’ poem As Kingfishers Catch Fire:
“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.”
The image of fiery, spirit-enlivened kotare (kingfishers) is obviously great material for a title (and turned extremely appropriate, given the bird life at Venn’s former site) but the final stanza of the poem is key.
By evoking “Christ…to the Father through the features of men’s faces”, Hopkins captures the definition of theophany.
Theophany (in the broadest sense) refers to a manifestation of God, an encounter with true reality. These encounters are mediated via the stuff of everyday life; moments in nature, conversations with strangers, encounters with animals, odd pockets of beauty that interrupt our commutes…The potential is broad, and the combinations endless. The key, however, is that theophany needs an Other.
If it doesn’t draw us beyond ourselves (and our self-regard), it’s not theophany.
Now, lest I sound (overly) mystical, let me stress that this phenomenon, and the processes of recognising it, is very mundane. These encounters are not exclusive to those who have achieved an astronomical level of spiritual acumen. Theophanic awareness isn’t a kind hyper-spirituality.
I’m not hyper-spiritual myself!
Moreover, the majority of our guides (priests, preachers, prophets, psalmists…) are mere mortals. We can all experience, and participate in, theophany. Hopkins himself was probably inspired by passages like Matthew 6:26, which illustrates an image that has been seared into my brain since Sunday School.
In this teaching, Jesus directs us toward holiness by drawing our attention to the most common of commonplace things: flowers and birds.
“ Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?
And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labour or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?”
Christ’s imagery reveals a basic truth: the things of creation participate in the life of God. Or, in Hopkins’ terms, they “…act in God’s eye what God’s eye [they] are...”
By noticing the small things of God, we are given an opportunity to reorientate ourselves toward Him. As Hopkins says “Christ plays in ten thousand places…” Theophany places us in creation, where we can act in God’s eye what in God’s eye we are. Creatures.
Before I float away on the cloud of unknowing, let me give you a what? and a how? While I am prone to flights of fancy (more in the vein of a pastry-stuffed café sparrow than a blazing kotare), the main goal of this journal is to cultivate attentiveness. As per Christ’s call to look, and Hopkin’s poem, God’s creation is replete with theophany. Or is creation theophany itself? Maybe… That requires some theological spelunking for which I am not equipped.
Regardless, creation (i.e. the “natural world”) is a beautiful thing! And God is ever-present to it. Of course, encountering the divine in-and-through nature is not a novel idea. There are many people (across disciplines and vocations) who beautifully illuminate this experience.
My main interests, however, bend in a slightly different direction. I am fascinated by how God’s presence is reflected and refracted through creative human work; the things that we make to inspire, educate, and infuriate. Specifically, I want to explore storytelling.
Where is God in the stories we tell? How can we cultivate an attentiveness to the work of God through film, literature, comics, and more things besides?
Most importantly, what does it mean when Christ’s face (“…For Christ plays in ten thousand places…”) appears in works that challenge our aesthetic, moral, and spiritual assumptions?
Does that make any sense? If it doesn’t at the moment, I can’t promise that it will later. I would love your company on the journey, though.
Shout out to my dear Tamsin, who helped me get this across the line.
Thanks for reading, friends! If you’d like to support my work, feel free to toss some coin in the ol’ tip jar. After all, there’s no such thing as a free flat white!
Ur cool and I love you xo