Sister Earth and Brother Fire
A Sermon Preached by J. Stuart Taylor III
St. Mark’s Presbyterian Church
September 16, 2007
For as long as St. Francis has been my adopted saint, and spiritual guide, I have wanted to make a pilgrimage to Assisi to see the place where Francis lived. Finally a few years ago I got that opportunity. And I was simply amazed at the beauty of this land that Francis loved. To actually walk where Francis walked was a powerful experience for me. Assisi in north central Italy is surrounded by a stunning landscape of agricultural plains, old growth forest, craggy mountain ranges. As a youth Francis would be gone for days, wandering about in the forests or over the hillsides. There is no doubt in my mind that the geography of that place shaped and formed his soul. What was true for Francis is probably true for all of us- that the place on the earth where we grew up or live now will have a formative impact on the geography of our own souls. How does living underneath these big skies and in sight of these majestic mountains give shape to your own soul and mine? In this preaching series on the creation spirituality of St. Francis of Assisi, we turn now to the next stanza of his canticle to all creation, “All praise be yours my Lord through Sister Earth, our mother, who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces various fruits, and colored flowers and herbs”. And because the stanzas are arranged by Francis as spiritual couplets, we continue “All praise be yours, my Lord through Brother Fire, through him you lighten up the night. How beautiful he is, how gay! Full of power and strength.” Through the Canticle of Creation, Francis teaches us that when we open our hearts in gratitude to the Creator for the beauty and wonder of creation, we simultaneously lay hold of deeply spiritual truths at the core of our being. This morning Francis of Assisi invites us into a dialogue with Sister Earth, and Brother Fire.
Francis had a great love for Sister Earth. In the canticle of Brother Sun and Sister Moon the earth is preeminent as mother but still our sister as part of creation. The Earth is our sister in that like all creatures she too is dependent on the creator. For Francis to abide with the earth was to participate in her life, to get dirty in planting and harvesting the bounty of the land. Following the example of their leader, the early Franciscans worked in the fields along side of the farmers; in effect they became migrant workers who accepted whatever the farmer would give them for their daily bread. Francis was actually fond of spending time in caves, as a way of as a way of being closer to the earth he loved. Caves were for him perhaps something akin to what the kivas were and are for Native peoples across the SW. To be in a cave was for Francis to descend into the archeology of our origins, to reconnect with the womb that gave us birth. But going into the cave was also for Francis a way to remind himself that we are humble creatures of dust. In the cave Francis faced his own mortality and finiteness. I remember when Lisa and I went back packing in The Grand Canyon in 1989. We were down on the canyon floor at Phantom Ranch. And one evening I was sitting on a boulder by the Colorado River looking up at mammoth rock faces that at 2 or 3 billion years old, are almost as old as the earth itself. Confronted by age old rock, watching the river flow past, I began to muse on how all living creatures are such very temporary entities, combinations of the elements that come together in a flash and in a flash re-dissolve back into the earth. All Life is this ever changing very ephemeral layer that lies on top of the earth supported by her strength and abundance.
The surest indicator of our relationship to creation is found in our relationship to our own bodies. Our Bodies are after all the most visible and immediate sign of our earthiness, our solidarity with the creation. Through our bodies we touch, experience, participate in the goodness of creation and also in its suffering. Francis himself with all his monastic rigor of fasting and poverty did not always treat his body well – he referred to his body as Brother Ass. This is a paradox at the heart of his life and witness: Francis was both a sensualist reveling in the pleasures of life and an ascetic rigorously denying the needs of the flesh. Where do we fall in that spectrum of attitude toward the body? What do you actually think about your body? In what ways do you honor and nurture your body and in what ways do you not? Are we practicing faithful stewardship of that part of creation with which we have been intimately entrusted? An environmental writer I have been reading recently suggested with awe and wonder that it would require thousands of encyclopedias to create an owner’s manual for the body. The body’s exquisite integration of movement, thought, physiology, sight, touch, and metabolism supersedes the complexity of any other system that we can imagine. Something beyond us seems to operate our bodies, but what? Is it not the free flow of brilliant and ancient information, an involuntary intelligence that is freely exchanged on the cellular level? I believe that the body’s wisdom is the intelligent design of our Loving Creator. May we get on our knees and give thanks night and day for the gift of our bodies.
But many of us, me included have little awareness of our body until something goes wrong with it. Anyone who has ever known illness, injury, or diminished senses knows that we live inside bodies that leave can leave us vulnerable to pain and suffering. Through the natural process of aging, our bodies will wear out, break down. And there may come a time at some point in our life’s journey where we desire to be liberated from the limitations of our fragile finite body. Of course the ultimate health issue is the death of the body, isn't it? When the moment of his death approached, Francis asked to be stripped naked and placed on the ground, with his brothers and sisters singing the canticle of brother sun and sister moon. When the moment of my death approaches, I hope that the words ashes to ashes, dust to dust, will not be feeling like a mournful cry. I hope that one day ‘ashes to ashes, dust to dust’ will be heard as joyous offering up of the body to return to the earth to which all life belongs. Francis meditating in the cave is a reminder to us that it is a mature faith that can contemplate our own mortality and the reality of physical death. And let me ask you this question: Why does the church stubbornly reaffirm this belief in the resurrection of the body? It would be much so much more neat and tidy if we believed in the Greek idea of the immortality of the soul, if we believed that at the moment of death the soul leaves behind the finite body and goes to be with God. But that is not what Christianity teaches. Christian faith teaches that our bodies are a sign of our solidarity with the created order, our fundamental connectedness with all of nature. What Christianity teaches is that when we die, our hope is not in the inherent immortality of the soul. Our hope is in the resurrection of the body and of all creation. We believe in the resurrection of the body because through our bodies we will participate in the resurrection of the entire creation, a new creation, transformed and reunited with the Creator.
All praise be yours, my Lord through Brother Fire, through him you lighten up the night. How beautiful he is, how gay! Full of power and strength. Picture the Franciscan community rebuilding a ruined chapel by a great forest, next to an open plain. There are small huts made of sticks and rocks, wood and brush. A fire was a familiar sight in the Franciscan community because of course their meals were cooked on campfire. If you have ever sat by the fireplace or a campfire and been mesmerized by the dancing flames you know something of the ability of fire to speak to the human heart. Fire of course has deep roots as a biblical symbol. There is the burning bush of Moses which symbolizes the divine pathos of the Creator who is moved by the cries of slaves and enters history to liberate them. In Jesus own words: “I have come to set the world on fire. How I wish the blaze was ignited!’ And of course the early followers of Jesus were anointed by the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and it seemed like flames danced upon their heads. Pascal the great Christian thinker wrote in his journal on Nov. 23, 1654, “from 10:30 until 12:30: Fire!” Poets and mystics like Gerard Manley Hopkins have experienced this divine fire erupting in all things created. In one of my favorite poems by Hopkins he wrote of “kingfishers catching fire, dragonflies drawing flame”. IN the eyes of the poet and the person of faith, everything glows with the fiery energy of the divine. It is written about one of Francis early followers a brother by the name of Giovanni, that when he listened to Francis speak of God, he felt his heart would melt like wax near a fire. And the love of God so enflamed him that he could not stand still and endure it. He would get up and as if drunk in the Spirit would wander about the garden, the woods, the church talking as the flame moved him. Throughout the ages, Fire has been a symbol of Eros, of love seeking union with the beloved. Fire has been the metaphor of transformation. A wise mentor of min in seminary once said that there are only three things that can truly transform the human soul: the fire of Love, the fire of Suffering, the fire of Holy Mystery.
Perhaps you have heard of the great love between Francis and Clare, his spiritual sister. Clare came to visit Francis one day and into the evening and around the campfire they engaged in holy and passionate conversation about their love of God and creation. And that very night, the people of Assisi looked beyond the walls of the town, across the plain and toward the forest where the Franciscan community lived. And they saw a red and orange glow as if a great fire was raging. They rushed out of the city to put out the fire only to discover Francis and Clare sitting and talking to one another. Imagine that you and I are among those gathered around the campfire with Francis and Clare; Brother Sun is setting to the west and Sister Moon is rising over the mountains. The coolness of the evening is wonderfully offset by the fire which warms our feet and dances in our eyes. Francis and Clare invite us to dialogue with fire. Francis and Clare invite us to consider the source of passion in our lives. What are you passionate about? Where do you find energy? What is your deepest joy and are you moving toward it? It might be that we are experiencing the consuming power of fire in a time of suffering or trial. In our dialogue with Brother Fire, it may be that the most important thing that we need to do is to name and acknowledge our own anger? This anger might be from the past, or from a situation that you are living through right now. It may be the anger that you feel toward the folly of humankind in our wanton destruction of our planet? In our government’s war making in Iraq? The fire of anger within us can be destructive or creative. The fire within us can cause havoc or it can purify us and lead us toward transformation. What about your passion for justice, your longing for peace? Perhaps that fiery passion is only a faintly glowing ember right now. Maybe we need to figure out how to gently blow on it until it re-ignites. Francis and Clare invite us to be in dialogue with the fire within each of us. How do we befriend brother Fire who comes to us in love, in suffering, in mystery?
Francis and Clare lead us in this prayer. Let us pray: All praise be yours for Sister Earth. We have been blessed with a dazzling feast at your table. You nourish and sustain us with all good things. We are from you and, you have given birth to us. Too long we have denied you who give us life. Our very bodies are a gift from you. How can we forget that in every moment our lives depend on you? Teach us never to try to dominate you but in humility to receive your gifts and care. Help us to heal the painful wound that we have inflicted on you and on ourselves. All praise be yours Brother Fire, How beautiful you are as you bring light to the darkness of night. . Brother fire you come to us and ignite our hearts with passion and love. Sometimes you lift us to heights of ecstasy. Other times we are consumed by you in the depths of trial and suffering. By your touch, our souls can be purified. Brother fire, little brother to the Sun. we honor you. Prepare us for your touch!
Children’s Sermon: This morning we are celebrating the God of St. Francis, the Creator God who has given us the gift of creation. And St. Francis teaches us that we are called by God to take care of creation, not to hurt it. And that includes our bodies. We are called by God to take care of our bodies just as we are called to take care of all creation. Take your hand for example. Look at this amazing creation. Recognize with a sense of awe this wonderful work of art and how much it can do? Begin to hold and caress your hands. I have been taught a healing practice that has been passed on by Native healers to their children who understood that each finger is an extension of the rest of the body and that by simply holding or caressing each finger, you can take care of yourself and be healthy and happy. I want you and everyone here to try a little experiment. . Take hold of your thumb for a minute. Feel that enlivening pulse within each finger. If you are ever feeling sad, hold the thumb and it will help you release that sadness and feel better. And then move slowly from the thumb to the first finger. Hold this finger when you are afraid, and it will help you feel less afraid, and so on. The middle finger, not surprisingly can be an extension of our anger. The ring finger holds our anxiety. And the small finger impacts our self-esteem. If you take a few minutes during the day to hold each finger you can help your body release the pain and stress and weariness that we carry around inside of us. You can help the body be more happy and healthy. It’s never too early or too late for us to learn how to take care of our bodies. I commend this practice to you. Let us pray: Gracious and loving God you have given us the gifts of our bodies. Through our bodies we participate in the goodness of your creation. Our hands are your hands in the world. Help us to use our hands for your work. Help us to have healing hands that do your work in the world.