‘Canticle of the Sun’: St. Francis of Assisi and the Art of Praise

"St. Francis of Assisi," circa 1600, by Cignoli. St. Francis's "Canticle of the Sun" is a hymn of praise to God. (Public Domain)

The reputation of St. Francis of Assisi as a nature lover often eclipses his identity as a writer in modern culture, and yet he is among the principal figures in Italian literature.

In his youth, St. Francis greatly admired the courtly love poetry and lifestyle of the troubadours; in his maturity, Francis embraced the title “Jugglers of God” (“Jongleurs de Dieu”) for himself and his first followers.

In taking the humbler position of a juggler or jester in the heavenly court, Francis did not lose his sense of dignity, but rather found freedom and levity in contrast to the stateliness of a higher position. Because of this, his life and poetry are clearly infused with a profound joy; he shares the jocundity of his Brother Fire as well as the humility of his Sister Water.

The poem by Francis of Assisi takes one through creation starting with Sir Brother Sun. "Rising of the Sun," 1753, by Boucher. (Public Domain)

As he finished “Canticle of the Sun,” also known as “Canticle of the Creatures” (“Laudes Creaturarum”) in 1224, Francis was nearing the end of his life, and yet he turned death itself into a praise of God in his poem. It is notable as one of the first, if not the first poem written in Italian, specifically in the Umbrian dialect, which made it more widely accessible than Latin.

Half blind and physically suffering, there was nowhere in life where Francis did not see God. He carried the key which ensures him a warm welcome in all hearts, even to the modern day, and enabled him to craft the perfect song of praise to his king.

The Proper Order of Things

A canticle is a poem written in praise of God and bears resemblance to the psalms.

The order of praises in the “Canticle of the Sun” reflects the creation hierarchy and the creation story in Genesis. The beginning starts with God and establishes all of creation as His own:

Most High, all-powerful, good Lord, Yours are the praises, the glory, and the honor, and all blessing, To You alone, Most High, do they belong, and no human is worthy to mention Your name.

The poem then proceeds from spiritual realms to physical light, namely the sun, moon, and stars.

Praised be You, my Lord, with all Your creatures, especially Sir Brother Sun, Who is the day and through whom You give us light. And he is beautiful and radiant with great splendor; and bears a likeness of You, Most High One. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in heaven You formed them clear and precious and beautiful.

In these lines, we see that creation is both clear and reflective: translucent in that God’s light passes to others through it, and reflective in that others may behold God’s image present in the thing itself.

Then follows the praise from the elements, and in the masculine and feminine characterization of each of them we see Francis’s understanding of the complementarity of the sexes. The praises present us with the ideal of the interaction between the sexes; there is in each of the elements the potential for their good qualities to be distorted and taken to the violent extreme, but each is instead able to temper the other and hold it in moderation so that, in the end, the alteration between male and female creates a harmony in the poem.

In one moment masculine virtue comes to the forefront; in the next, feminine virtue serves equally but in a different capacity. In the end, both Brother Wind and Mother Earth provide sustenance, and while Brother Fire scatters the darkness with a playful strength, Sister Water purifies with chastity and humility.

Brother Wind balances the feminine qualities of Mother Earth. Engraving of West Wind Zephyrus. (Public Domain)

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind, and through the air, cloudy and serene, and every kind of weather, through whom You give sustenance to Your creatures. Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water, who is very useful and humble and precious and chaste. Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom You light the night, and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong. Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us, and who produces various fruit with colored flowers and herbs.

Mother Earth balances the masculine Brother Wind in "Canticle of the Sun. "Mother Earth," by Edward Burne-Jones. (Public Domain)

Finally, we arrive at mankind, created on the sixth day. We see here a reflection of the beatitudes, an exaltation of the merciful and peaceful. Suffering, both physical and spiritual, also assumes a redemptive value; if endured patiently out of love for God, it will glorify his name and lead to our own reward.

Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation. Blessed are those who endure in peace for by You, Most High, shall they be crowned. Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no one living can escape. Woe to those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will, for the second death shall do them no harm.

God uses all things for good as he does with death. "The Vision of Death," circa 1868, by Gustav Dore. (Public Domain)

The last of the things to praise God is Sister Death, a creature welcomed into the world not by God but by mankind. As it was never part of God’s plan for creation, the inclusion of death can seem confusing without the context of Francis’s understanding that God can use all things for good, and thus he can bring good from our mistake that brought about the fall. The only truly sobering note in the poem is the line: “Woe to those who die in mortal sin.” (“Guai a cquelli ke morrano ne le peccata mortali”)

The reason for this is that sin is a direct rebellion against the Creator and against the order of his creation, deliberately warping his design for his creatures. However, Francis adds that death can do no harm to those who do God’s will, and thus the final praise of the poem adds a still greater force. It is understandable that beautiful things will give honor to their Creator, but that he can turn a destructive evil to eternal good shows that there is no limit to his power and mercy. We can even greet death with familiarity when it comes because it too has been drawn into the family of creation.

The Art of Praise

The conclusion of the poem, in contrast to everything that came before, is addressed to the reader. It is a call to join in the praise and to serve God with humility.

Francis concludes with an address to his readers to continue his work themselves:

Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.

These final lines urge us to follow the example of the rest of creation in praising our creator, and Francis leaves us with an example of how to do so.

His choice of mirroring the creation hierarchy in the poem is not by chance. In doing so, he imitates the Creator and acclaims the goodness of his work. To imitate well requires a deeper understanding of a person or thing and pleases the Artist with the admiration of his design.

At the base of this work, what is most necessary to make genuine praise possible is humility, which overflows into gratitude and praise. Of all his virtues, Francis’s humility is what has won him, and continues to win to this day, entrance into all hearts, of the religious and secular alike.

It was for this reason that, as G.K. Chesterton said, this poem “full of the mirth of youth and the memories of childhood, runs through [Francis’s] whole life like a refrain.” His life itself became a song of praise as he strove to perfectly imitate his King.