It was said, Gerard Manley Hopkins told his friend Robert Bridges, that Alphonsus Rodriguez, porter in a Majorcan monastery, was "bedeviled by evil spirits" throughout his life, but also "much favored by God" with visions of heavenly light. For the saint's feast day, Hopkins wrote the following sonnet.
In Honour of St. Alphonsus Rodriguez
Glory is a flame off exploit, so we say,
And those fell strokes that once scarred flesh, scored shield,
Should tongue that time now, trumpet now that field,
Record, and on the fighter forge the day.
On Christ they do, they on the martyr may;
But where war is within, what sword we wield
Not seen, the heroic breast not outward-steeled,
Earth hears no hurtle then from fiercest fray.
Yet, he that hews out mountain, continent,
Earth, all, at last; who with fine increment
Trickling, veins violets and tall trees makes more
Could crowd career with conquest while there went
Those years and years by of world without event
That in Majorca Alfonso watched the door.
We crave glory in action – to be seen as victors, awarded the laurel or the oak and hailed in the streets (or on the Internet). If we die for a cause, we hope to be immortalized in song and story. It’s human nature, to want to do brave deeds and to be rewarded for our doing.
Hopkins recognizes this in the first five lines of the sonnet: it’s the warrior’s exploits that we say give off the fire of glory; his “scarred flesh” and “scored shield” should record his deeds and keep them in memory. However, he seems to be not completely confident, the phrase “so we say” suggesting that perhaps the assertion is at least open to question: we say that glory “flames off exploit,” but is this always the case? Yes, he asserts with confidence, the scars of Christ do indeed bring Him glory, but the scars of the martyrs only “may” do so – and glory from literal war is perhaps even less sure.
Why his hesitancy to assign glory to the exploits of literal battle? Because there is another kind of battle men engage in that no one sees but that is no less important – and perhaps more so. “The war within” is unseen and unsung by other men, no matter how intense it may be. This warrior of the heart carries no tangible sword, wears no steel armor, makes no resounding battle-cry, even in the “fiercest fray.” Certainly the world neither sees his scars nor rewards his victories.
But God sees. The God who created the earth itself with its most magnificent features – mountains, continents; the God who created the most delicate details of nature – the growth of trees, the veins of a violet . . . this God sees the inner conflict. And He cares: He “crowds career with conquest”; He gives victory in these battles, even when they last a lifetime, “years and years” while little else goes on in the world and the warrior merely watches a door which is never challenged.
Hope should spring from this realization. Few of us, in the end, will do great deeds to be memorialized in song; few of us will become well-known martyrs for the faith. But all of us will battle inner demons: sinful thoughts and desires, discouragement and despair. While Satan himself may well torment us, even without his harassment there will be plenty to battle. I find myself so easily leaping to anger, unjustified criticism, guilt true or false, loss of hope. It is all too easy to give in to these enemies, to dwell on them.
But this is not who I am. It is who I was, and the patterns reassert themselves when I lose sight of my real identity: a daughter of the King, a servant of the Lord God. In Him, I am the one who can repent of my sin and seek reconciliation with God and man; I am the one who can offer patient love to one who irritates me; I am the one who sees beauty everywhere, who finds joy in the darkest hours. I am the one who wakes in the middle of the night with the words “I love you, Father,” inexplicably echoing in my mind and heart, and who understands that Christ in me speaks those words – and because I am hidden in Him, cloaked in His love, they are my honest words as well.
Certainly, until He returns or I am removed to His presence through death, I will struggle with the sinful and dispiriting patterns of the old man. But I will struggle: I will fight the battle and know that victory is already mine – I am made new in Christ who lives in me, and however fiercely the battle rages at times, He is my Champion, and even in this life I may at least begin to see the fruit of refusing to lay down my arms in despair. No matter what others see or know, I can know that He sees it all, and upholds and strengthens me, and will give me whatever due reward He Himself has earned for me.
Matt 6:6 But you, when you pray, go into your inner room, close your door and pray to your Father who is in secret, and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.
