Tag: psalms

A Grandfathers Cry

O Lord, my God, my soul is in anguish.

You have made me a great grandfather, a grandfather, a father, and a husband, and a son of Francis and Clare, a son of the Church. I am to be an instrument of Your peace, but my spirit finds no peace in this world. My heart is a barren land, and my eyes are a river of tears. I find only a litany of sorrows and a silence that wounds me to the core.

I cry out for the children of Gaza, O Lord. The land that Francis walked in peace is now a prison of despair for a million souls. They are hungry and broken, their spirits withered by a life under siege. How long, O Lord, will You allow this open wound?

I cry out for the children of Africa, O Lord. Their small bodies are withered by a famine of our own making, a famine of indifference. They die slowly and quietly, out of sight. Hear their silent screams, O Lord, and turn the hearts of all who have turned away.

I cry out for the children of my own nation, O Lord. In a land of staggering wealth, over a million are without a home. They sleep in cold cars and huddle in fear, forgotten in the shadow of our plenty. You, too, were without a home. Remember them, O Lord.

I cry out for the indigenous children, O Lord, whose hope was stolen on a path of broken promises. Their heritage is a river of tears, and their spirits are burdened by a history of wounds. Let the stones of this land cry out for justice, O Lord.

I cry out for the children at our border, O Lord. They are the stranger You commanded us to welcome, yet their faces are filled with terror. They flee from violence, only to find fear in our land. Let our hearts not be hardened, O Lord.

I cry out for the hungry children in our streets, O Lord. Their tables are empty because of the policies of men. You, who gave us manna from heaven, now see them denied the simple bread they need to live. Their bodies are made vulnerable, and their minds suffer for lack of a meal. Is there no feast for them, O Lord?

I cry out for the children suffering sexual abuse, O Lord. Their innocence is stolen in the shadows, their trust broken by those who should protect them. Their voices are silenced by shame, and their spirits carry wounds unseen. Heal them, O Lord, and bring them into the light.

I cry out for the children in our hospitals, O Lord. Their lives are measured by ledgers and spreadsheets, not by Your infinite worth. They die from treatable sickness, not for lack of a cure, but for lack of care. Have mercy on them, O Lord, for their lives are sacred.

And I cry out for the children in our schools, O Lord. They are slaughtered in their places of safety, and their blood flows as a river through our land. Firearms have become the greatest threat to their young lives. This silence, O Lord, is a sickness of our soul.

My spirit is weary, and my voice is small against this present darkness. But I will not be quiet. And yet, in the midst of my anguish, I see a small light. I thank You for Franciscan Action Network (FAN), O Lord, a voice for the voiceless in our own nation. And I thank You for Franciscans International (FI) at the United Nations, speaking for the poor and defending Your creation. I thank You for the work of Church World Service (CWS) and Sojourners for the homeless, and for the tireless dedication of Catholic Charities and St. Jude in the fight against sickness. I thank You for the justice sought by Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) and American Jewish World Service (AJWS), and for the mercy of Islamic Relief and the Zakat Foundation. I also thank you for the Interfaith Alliance and all who unite across faiths to defend human dignity. They are proof that Your heart is not silent, and for this, I am grateful.

My soul finds its purpose in this, O Lord, a path of peace and justice You have set before me. Help me to hold fast to the words of St. Francis: “Let us begin to do good, for up to now we have done so little.” Strengthen my voice and my heart to be an instrument of Your peace.

Amen.

Canticle of the Creatures


by St. Francis of Assisi

Most High, all-powerful, good Lord,
Yours are the praises, the glory, and all blessing;
To You alone, Most High, do they belong,
And no mortal lips are worthy to utter Your name.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Sun,
Who brings the dawn and lights the day,
Radiant with splendor, a symbol of You, O Most High!

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and Stars—
In heaven You formed them, bright, precious, and fair.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
Through clouds and storms and every sky’s mood,
By whom You sustain all life in Your care.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water,
So humble, so precious, so pure and alive,
A servant to all, Your goodness declaring.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Who dances at night with warmth and delight,
Strong and untamed, he kindles our hearts.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Earth,
Who nourishes us with fruits, herbs, and flowers,
And lends us her strength for life’s sacred worth.

Praised be You, my Lord, through those who forgive
For love of Your name, who bear pain and trial—
Blessed are they who endure in Your peace;
By You, Most High, shall they be crowned.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Bodily Death,
From whom no living soul can flee—
Woe to those who die in despair,
But blessed are they who answer Your call,
For Death shall not steal their light.

Praise and bless my Lord, give thanks and adore,
With humble hearts, serve Him forevermore.

This canticle embodies St. Francis’s deep connection to creation as a reflection of divine love. Each element—sun, moon, wind, water, fire, earth—is personified as kin, illustrating the interconnectedness of all life. The closing lines emphasize acceptance of mortality and the call to live in harmony with God’s will.