Today marks the third week in our observance of the Season of Creation. Two weeks ago, the theme was “oceans.” Last week’s theme was “storms.” This week we consider the theme of “fauna.” The word “fauna” may not be a regular part of your vocabulary. It’s a word that has its origins in ancient Roman mythology with the god Faunus, the god of the forest. If you’ve ever gone for a hike through any dense forest, you’re sure to come across a range of different creatures—anything from ants to toads, to woodpeckers to eagles, to coyotes to deer to bears. Fauna is a term that describes the totality of animal life in a given region. Closely related to fauna is the term biodiversity, which refers to an integrated ecological web that sustains life as a whole.  

Now, in addition to considering fauna, we’re also thinking about St. Francis of Assisi and his legacy. His feast day falls every year on October 4, so today we’re considering him in anticipation of that. Francis lived in the late 12th and early 13th centuries. He was born into a wealthy family and lived a comfortable life in his younger years until he had a mystical encounter, around age 24, while gazing at a crucifix in a chapel in San Damiano, near Assisi. He discerned a voice telling him, “Go, rebuild my house which is in ruins.” That call changed his life. In fact, he renounced everything about his old life, including whatever wealth and comfort he enjoyed. If the church were going to be rebuilt, then a very different approach to faith would need to be practiced.  

Francis became known for his radical commitment to simplicity. He avoided possessions and decried the idea of ownership. He also began to see God as alive not just in the gathered community of believers, but in all of creation—in all life forms, and indeed in everything. About three years before his death, shortly after his 40th birthday, while sick with blindness and probably tuberculosis, he composed his famous poem, the Canticle of the Sun. I’m going to read an excerpt from it:  

Be praised Good Lord for Brother Sun, who brings us each new day.

Be praised for Sister Moon: White beauty bright and fair, with wandering stars she moves through the night.

Be praised my Lord for Brother Wind, for air and clouds and the skies of every season.

Be praised for Sister Water: humble, helpful, precious, pure; she cleanses us in rivers and renews us in rain.

Be praised my Lord for Brother fire: he purifies and enlightens us.

Be praised my Lord for Mother Earth: abundant source, all life sustaining; she feeds us bread and fruit and gives us flowers.

Be praised my Lord for the gift of life; for changing dusk and dawn; for touch and scent and song. Be praised my Lord for all your creation serving you joyfully.  

This poem gives us a wonderfully expansive understanding of fauna. Francis became identified as the patron saint of animals, but in this section of his Canticle, he doesn’t mention animals. Instead, he speaks of “Brother Sun,” “Sister Moon,” “Brother Wind,” “Sister Water,” “Brother Fire” and “Mother Earth.” For Francis, these are more than just impersonal elements or distant celestial reality. They are our friends and family members. They are our relatives.  

Francis inspires us to consider the sun and moon as living creatures. In the same way, he understands the basic elements of fire, air, water and earth to be alive and worthy of cultivating grateful relationships with. Fauna, in a Franciscan sense, is not just the totality of animal life. It is everything—on earth and beyond us in the universe. We are connected to all of it: deer, moose, trees, rocks and cliffs, waterfalls, fish, desert sand, scorpions, the sun that sustains us, and all other stars in the Milky Way and beyond. Our family relations are ever expansive and infinite.  

How do we begin to see creation as Francis of Assisi did? Perhaps we’ll never be able to see things quite like he did, but how can we at least deepen our own appreciation of his spirituality? That’s a question I’ve thought about for many years, and it led me to become a Companion of the Franciscan Third Order. That’s why I have a tau-cross pinned on my alb (the tau-cross is a recognized Franciscan identity marker). I’m happy to talk to anyone anytime about the Franciscan Third Order and what distinguishes the Franciscan tradition in Christian history. But I want to close by naming four basic values that have been championed by Francis of Assisi and many of his followers throughout the centuries.  

The first is the value of individual dignity. That doesn’t just apply to our friends and the people we like. It applies to everyone, including those we might find repulsive. The Franciscan tradition challenges us to hit the pause button and consider how even the most annoying person in our lives displays a certain dignity that we should affirm. But it doesn’t end there. Individual dignity also applies to non-human creatures, and indeed to everything—rocks, rivers, lakes, the air and skies around us. When we begin to see Lake Ontario, for instance, not as a mere body of water, but as a creature with dignity, that inevitably changes our relationship to the lake.  

The second Franciscan value is peace and justice. If we’re able to affirm the individual dignity of all things, then we should be committed to peace and justice, especially for those parts of creation that don’t speak in our voice—forests, coral reefs, glaciers, oceans. These creatures—which is what Francis of Assisi would call them—are under threat. We can’t be agents of peace and justice if we shield ourselves and avoid the cause of injustice and oppression. Being a peacemaker requires us to do our homework, to know what’s happening in the world, and then to act with conviction and boldness.  

The third Franciscan value is reconciliation. This means going even further, beyond peace and justice. It is possible to achieve peace and justice without reconciliation. Reconciliation is not just a handshake agreement; it is a full embrace. It’s rooted in love—love of neighbor, love of the land we tread upon, love of the forest, love of water, love of all living things.  

The fourth Franciscan value is creation care. If we’re able to commit ourselves to reconciliation, then we should want to ensure that relationships do not become fractured. We do that by caring for all of creation, by consciously attending to our relationship with the land and with all those we come in contact with, human and non-human.  

These four basic Franciscan values—individual dignity, peace and justice, reconciliation, and creation care—have endured because people have embodied them and witnessed transformation. If I could leave you with any homework over the next week, it would be this: consider how you as an individual and we as a parish community might embrace these four values, not only for ourselves and our neighbors, but also for the earth as whole.