The prayer of wonder passes easily enough into the prayer of Praise. I praise God by being what He has made me, just as a picture may be considered as redounding to the praise of the artist who painted it. In this way the beauty of the landscape praises God; the songs of the birds are canticles of His praise; even the mooing of the cattle and the bleating of sheep are notes in the hymn that creation sings in praise of the Creator. The flowers of the field praise Him _ somebody used to tell them they spoke too loud, so distinctly did he catch the sound of the praise they gave.
All inanimate and all irrational creation praise God by being what He made them. "The heavens show forth the glory of God and the sky speaks of the work of His hands." I too praise God by being a credit to Him who fashioned me in love.
But I can do much more. I can give Him acts of "formal" praise. I can, consciously and lovingly, speak to Him in words that are intelligible, of the greatness of His perfections and of the marvels He has strewn across my path. In every Mass I am reminded, at the Preface, of the praise spoken by His angels and with them I sing to the "holy God, to the All-powerful Father, to the eternal Lord"; I praise above everything else His awful sanctity. "We suppliantly beseech Thee to admit our voices too, united with the voice of angels, as we bow low before Thee and exclaim: Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabbath. All the heavens are filled with Thy glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest!"
One special act of praise I must not omit, O Lord. Let me remember to sing Your praises most of all when Your hand lies heaviest upon me. Let me praise You when the whole world seems to be filled with my sorrows; let me praise You when I feel creeping over me a sense of disillusionment, when those I trusted fail me, when those I reverence most show themselves too human. When desolation seems to deaden every faculty within me, Lord, when sheer weariness and even distrust rob me of the power of speech, then, if I can but remember, I can add to the hymn of praise a note that will vibrate, loud and sweet and clear, throughout the world, stirring other hearts as it passes.