Today there will be celebrations and prayer services throughout the world commemorating the life and death of one of the most beloved saints in the history of Christianity: Francis of Assisi. The website franciscanmedia.org has much to say about Francis but for those who seek brevity, there is a summary statement on their calendar at the beginning of the biography which gives a taste of the most important information, including the most recent title under which Francis is known.
Saint Francis of Assisi: founder of the Franciscan family, Patron Saint of Ecology, inspiration to thousands, claimed by people of all faiths as well as those with no particular faith, a truly “catholic and apostolic man.” Though born in the 13th century, he belongs to all ages.
I think of Francis walking the Italian countryside, addressing all of nature as Sister and Brother, talking to the beasts and birds and listening to God’s messages everywhere. Today we are in the company of Brothers Wind and Air, and “fair and stormy all weather’s moods.” Tonight I will hope for a sighting of Sister Moon and the stars, who “in the heavens You have made them bright, precious and fair.”
Francis is a good model of how to live – amazed at everything – but also how to die, offering himself and all his suffering to the God in whom he placed all his faith, hope and (boundless) love. As I wrote that last sentence, Brother Sun made a momentary appearance, bathing the autumn countryside with golden light before receding into the cloudy sky. Just like Francis. Praised be…
I smile as I read the gospel this morning (MT 6:24-34) about how God cares for the lilies of the field and the birds of the air – and, of course, us. I’m thinking two thoughts in relation to the encouragement of that passage as God has a team of helpers at our house.
Yesterday afternoon the sun was so inviting that I decided to go for a walk. I was pleasantly surprised at the mildness of the breeze but still grateful for the layers of clothing I had decided to wear. There were no cars at the golf course next to our land and the path onto the 10th hole – close to the road – called me to abandon the street and walk the quieter path down to the river. The grass had been well tended so that it looked like a gigantic blanket of still vibrant green decorated only with numerous pine cones dropped in areas inhabited by the gigantic evergreen trees. I walked along the river and it seemed the river was keeping in step with me; we were definitely going in the same direction. The silence was profound and calming. I stopped often on my way back along the winding paths meant for the golf carts to listen to the silence and pay homage to the towering trees…
Yesterday afternoon I was in a gathering where we were discussing change using a number of quotes on the subject. It was fascinating to hear the different reactions to the various quotes depending on our interpretations of how the words were used in the sentences, or how a little word like “all” could challenge someone who is uncomfortable with such determinism. It was a great, stretching conversation that pointed up the need to really listen to the voices of others who differed according to culture and life experiences. etc. when interpreting what was being said.
There was a very quick thunderstorm this morning at 5:30 outside my window: torrential rain and one blast of thunder and lightning. It was as if nature was washing away everything and readying the day to start afresh with life. It’s a perfect beginning for my day. All major events of my year (at least those I’m aware of) are finished, so it seems everything will be “back to normal” now, if such a thing truly exists! On my slow trek home yesterday through lovely terrain and many traffic slowdowns (not to mention a stop during the eclipse) I listened to a couple of “homemade” CD playlists that took me on a tour of earlier times in my life. It was a sweet remembering and an exercise in gratitude that tied the weekend up in a perfect conclusion.
In keeping with what I said yesterday about Chardin’s vision of evolution in the universe, today we have Psalm 19 in the lectionary readings. One commentator sees this psalm as containing “a grand cosmological vision of a vast universe, alive and full of the divine Presence.” In this psalm we hear the message that God’s word is heard through the natural world as well as in church sermons and our life experiences. I am always happy to read and hear others speak of the importance of the natural world as a conduit of God’s presence and teaching since I learn a lot from observing the depth and function of nature. Here is a suggestion for all of us, the busy people of the world, that might be something to try with the goal of opening us more fully to a deeper way of seeing.
This is the moment when, in concert with the Scripture texts about resurrection, the earth in my neighborhood begins to come alive again. I always say I would never want to live anywhere but in the Northeast of the United States because of the beauty and example of the cyclic nature of life that we see in the seasons. As I write, I hear somewhere deep inside the strains of a hymn by David Haas, repeating the words Everything will live! over and over. As I look out, I see the red that is the first sign of renewal on the maple trees. Soon there will be a red carpet on the ground and the tiny leaves will take their rightful place, having been “born again” from the sleep of winter. The psalmist sings the refrain: O Lord, our God, how wonderful your name in all the earth! (PS 8:2) Surely it is a moment to join in praising the Creator for such a gift and to recognize as well our own place in the creation.