An October Canticle

For a reason I can’t remember, I read Corrie ten Boom’s work, “The Hiding Place” somewhere around my freshman year of high school. One scene in her autobiography recalls her sister’s ability to give thanks in all circumstances. She cajolls her sister Corrie into thanking God even for the fleas in the Ravensbruck concentration camp barracks:

“‘Fleas!’ I cried. ‘Betsie, the place is swarming with them!’

“We scrambled across the intervening platforms, heads low to avoid another bump, dropped down to the aisle and hedged our way to a patch of light.

“‘Here! And here another one!’ I wailed. ‘Betsie, how can we live in such a place!’……

“‘Corrie!’ she said excitedly. ‘He’s given us the answer! Before we asked, as He always does! In the Bible this morning. Where was it? Read that part again!’

“I glanced down the long dim aisle to make sure no guard was in sight, then drew the Bible from its pouch. ‘It was in First Thessalonians,’ I said. We were on our third complete reading of the New Testament since leaving Scheveningen.

“In the feeble light I turned the pages. ‘Here it is: “Comfort the frightened, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that none of you repays evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to all…'” It seemed written expressly to Ravensbruck.

“‘Go on,’ said Betsie. ‘That wasn’t all.’

“‘Oh yes:’…”Rejoice always, pray constantly, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus.'”

“‘That’s it, Corrie! That’s His answer. “Give thanks in all circumstances!” That’s what we can do. We can start right now to thank God for every single thing about this new barracks!’ I stared at her; then around me at the dark, foul-aired room……

“‘Yes! Thank You, dear Lord, that there was no inspection when we entered here! Thank You for all these women, here in this room, who will meet You in these pages.’…………….

“‘Thank You,’ Betsie went on serenely, ‘for the fleas and for–‘

“The fleas! This was too much. ‘Betsie, there’s no way even God can make me grateful for a flea.’

“‘Give thanks in all circumstances,’ she quoted. It doesn’t say, ‘in pleasant circumstances.’ Fleas are part of this place where God has put us.

“And so we stood between tiers of bunks and gave thanks for fleas. But this time I was sure Betsie was wrong.”…..

Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place

I can’t say that I’ve been able to put this into practice in my own life – I fall more into the, “why, God? Give me strength, if I have to bear it” category of prayers during times of difficulty. (Ben, the most grateful person I’ve ever known to exist, differs from me in this.)

Relatedly, I’m scared of this winter- more than I’ve ever been, in part because of the removal of some of the coping mechanisms that we’ve had for pandemic life while the weather has been warm. As a child of the Appalachian south I rejoiced in the snow that visited with rare (and disappointing) infrequency. I wore my pajamas inside-out and flushed ice down the toilet as any good Tennessean child would many a time, hoping to see snow on the ground in the cold early morning light and “Knox County, TN” on the list of school closures underneath the news. As an undergraduate in northern Indiana, I excitedly and regularly sent my family snowfall pictures.

But by the time I got to grad school and more formalized “adult life” the cold and the dark and the WIND, my GOSH, the WIND, the cutting knives of WIND of the Midwestern winter pressed heavy on me like an stifling and unhelpful weighted blanket.

This “canticle” is my funny attempt to remember that all of creation gives praise to God by its very existence (theology teacher ETA: not talking about ‘natural evils’ like destructive wildfires and hurricanes). It is my attempt to say that I can bless and thank God for all things. Even the Midwestern winter during Covid. Freaking Covid, freaking 2020, and I won’t even mention what’s happening this coming Tuesday. I can bless the Lord, but it doesn’t mean that I’m always joyful about it yet! Bah!

So attempting to give thanks and bless God in all things, here’s my October Canticle, inspired by the Song of the Three Children in Daniel 3.

“Bless the LORD, all you servants of the LORD”

Light, darkness,

hills, mountains, servants of the LORD,

Ice, snow, rain, frost and chill,

Bless the LORD….”

That’s what I wanted to say, anyway

But the thought of the dark loneliness dragged my soul down

to the chilled mud

Hallowed words rang hollow in my ears, heavy on my tongue

So, wanting to bless, I say an October canticle

Bless the Lord, you servants of the Lord

You, afraid of the dark and cold, bless the Lord

You, relentlessly cheerful ones, bless the Lord

You, cold raindrops hanging from the railings

like children on the monkey bars,

Bless the Lord

All you birds flying and fleeing, bless the Lord

You chipmunks and squirrels, gnawing at pumpkins

Bless the Lord

You fire-red and shining yellow October leaves,

Bless the Lord

All you, stuck and lonely, bless the Lord

You fading autumn sun, bless the Lord

Cold fingers wrapped around the stroller handle, bless the Lord

First wet snowflakes, bless the Lord

Praise the Lord, all of His fall creation!

Praise and adore Him above all, forever!

It’s going to be a dark and cold and lonely next four months or so. I hope you find comfort where you can, bless the Lord where you’re able to, and remember this. The gift of the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery means that you’re never alone in your suffering and that your suffering can be, is, and will be redeemed by the God who would have created the whole world just to hear you say you loved Him* and who dwells with us even now in a myriad of ways.

(*apparently what Jesus once said to St. Teresa of Avila)