Jessica Powers was a diminutive, unassuming Catholic nun who wrote some of the most contemplative and moving spiritual poetry of the 20th century. As I read her poem below – “For A Child of God”, I was reminded of the words of the Apostle Paul: “Don’t you realize that you are God’s temple and the Spirit of God is living in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).
Paul reminds us, and we need reminding, that one of the real mysteries of the Christian life is that God dwells deep within us, as in a tabernacle, a temple, a sacred place in the depths of our being. While all human beings possess the image of God and are due the respect and dignity that calls forth, those who have come to know God in Christ and experienced the transforming power of God, have become “the temple of the living God” (2 Corinthians 6:16). It is a powerful and intimate image. It means that forever, at every moment, God is at work in us, loving us, healing us, freeing us, inviting us into incredible intimacy. But for the most part, we are ignorant of what is taking place. Or if we try and grasp the theological (Oh, there is that word again!) truth of this divine promise, we find ourselves way out of our depth in trying to understand and express it. Maybe that is why the mystics (those who have been most keenly aware of the intimate dwelling of God within) have almost always reverted to poetry.
In the poem below there are some powerful images. But the one that immediately catches my eye is the line: “None can assail you in that place save your own evil, routing grace.” It is a reminder that this intimacy of our relationship with God is a matter of grace, but so often we, not the external circumstances that surround us, not the dark forces of a fallen world, but our own doubt and forgetfulness, are there “routing grace”. And because we forget, and because we don’t make time to cultivate this intimacy we find ourselves confused and de-centered and desperately looking for someone or something thing that will fill this deep void which we have created in our souls.
But the poem ends on a word of hope: “But there are days when watching eyes could guess that you hold Paradise. Sometimes the shining overflows and everyone around you knows.” Beautiful words. “But there are days….” This intimacy with God, this tabernacle within the soul, overflows in all its peace and goodness and love and people know that God is present.
“Child, has no one ever told you God is in your soul?”
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The saints and mystics
had a name
for that deep
inwardness of flame,
the height or depth
or ground or goal
Which is God’s dwelling in the soul?
Heaven--
because God is there.
All day and when
you wake at night
think of that place
of living light,
yours and within you
and aglow
where only God
and you can go.
None can assail you
in that place
save your own evil,
routing grace.
Not even angels
see or hear,
nor the dark spirits
prowling near.
But there are days
when watching eyes
could guess that you
hold Paradise.
Sometimes the shining
overflows
and everyone
around you knows.
Child, has no one ever told you
God is in your soul?
