...the praise of the created

All creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with us sing

Alleluia!

Let all things their Creator bless, and worship him in humbleness,

Alleluia!

---Francis of Assisi, 1225

The text of this ancient hymn is attributed to St. Francis of Assisi, and dates from around the year 1225. Let’s just think for a minute about a tradition that still values the wisdom that can be gleaned from the riches of the past. Thank you, Church, for preserving these hymns for us and our children.

Now, on to the poetry and genius of the text. St. Francis couldn’t actually cover “all things”, but he covered all the bases he could with contrast. Listen to some of the contrasts from this lover of all things natural: burning sun and silver moon, rushing wind and sailing clouds, rising morn and evening lights, flowing water and masterful fire. Can you imagine a concert of voices made up of all these natural elements, praising the One who’d imagined them? It would be pretty spectacular, I’ll bet!

And yet, Francis doesn’t leave out the human element of nature’s praise, and reminds us that our voices are needed to make the song complete. Hearts, both tender with forgiveness and heavy with pain and sorrow, are called to praise God, and to cast all care on the One who cares for us.

Let all things their Creator bless…Alleluia!

...the wholeness, after

I thank You, Lord, for each new day, for meadows white with dew,

for the sun’s warm hand upon the earth, for skies of endless blue,

for fruit and flower, for lamb and leaf, for every bird that sings,

with grateful heart I thank You, Lord, for all these simple things.

---Mary Kay Beall, 1991

Chaos is built of complexity. It is busy-ness, and noise, and frenetic motion, and confused grasping. It is layers of responsibility and burden. It is a multiplicity of demands—those from within, those from without. It is the rushing, and the doing, and the chasing, and the getting. And it is the emptiness, after. The echoing emptiness, too, can be chaos.

Gratitude is crafted of simplicity. It is pause, and breath, and gaze, and attending. It is unhurried presence in the face of a rushing culture. It is listening for the highest call. It is the abiding, and the being, and the discovering, and the acknowledging. And it is the wholeness, after. The echoing wholeness, too, can be gratitude.

Intentionally choosing simplicity over complexity may guide us in the way of wholeness rather than emptiness. And choosing gratitude over chaos may remake our lives as offering –every heartbeat, every breath.