Saint Francis and the Animals

On Sunday evening I was the preacher for our outdoor service for blessing animals. Being an outdoor service with a collection of pets who couldn't care less about what I said, I went for short and sweet. I actually loved the challenge of preaching with the cars whizzing by on one side and a trio of French Bulldogs wheezing away on the other, looking out over a collection of dogs, a cat, and a rat.

Here is the manuscript, although as with all of my preaching and talks there was plenty of room for the Holy Spirit to take over and edit on the fly!

It is big. Shaggy. Scary. Many of you have seen it, lurking in the shadows waiting to attack. Even if you haven’t seen it, you’ve heard the stories. The howls, the attacks. No fear, you friends tell you. It isn’t afraid of anything. Even the town dogs can’t defend anyone or anything from it. Some of them have even been eaten. It won’t stay in the hills, and it isn’t satisfied with attacking the flocks. Rumors say it even attacks people. The Wolf.

But most people are distracted. They aren’t here for the wolf. They are here for a more interesting reason. Your Italian city of Gubbio is the temporary home for the renowned preacher, Francis. He isn’t much to look at, in his patched and rough brown wool garment, barefoot, tonsured. But he draws people in to listen to him. He has that charisma, that genuine caring about every living creature that gets close to him.

He preaches about the gospel, how the kingdom of God is drawing near. Rumor says that he heard the Gospel say to sell everything and give alms; to not worry about anything but to trust God to provide for every need. If God cares for the every sparrow, how much more will God care for His faithful children? Francis teaches people to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, and unlike the priests, he is out among the ordinary people. Like us. He doesn’t live in a fancy palace or wear expensive clothes. Yours are probably worth more than his.

One day, while Francis is teaching about all of creation being his brothers and sisters, someone in the back of the crowd whispers a remark about the wolf. It was meant as a whispered comment to his neighbor, but someone overheard it and it shot through the crowd. He stopped, and someone explained to him that your town is under attack from this terrible creature. He goes on teaching, but when he is done and the crowd begins to disperse you notice that he is whispering to his followers. They gather themselves together and head out of town, up into the hills.

Soon his followers come straggling back, a look of fear on their faces as each passes back into town. Then, Francis comes back. But he most certainly isn’t alone. Pacing alongside him is the wolf. It certainly looks fierce, the way the whispered stories describe it. Francis enters the marketplace where everyone is gathering, and when he reaches the center he stops. The wolf quietly sits beside him. All eyes are turned to this unlikely pair. Francis explains to you that the wolf is hungry, and looking for food. If we, as a town, agree to feed him, the wolf will no longer attack our animals or people. You hear the quiet roar as the people around you talk to their neighbors about this turn of events. Eventually, one of your leaders calls out your assent.

We will feed the wolf. But how do we know that the wolf will keep his end of the bargain?

Francis ignores that question for a moment as he turns to speak to the pack of dogs in one of the alleyways. He tells them that if they will not bother the wolf, the wolf will leave them alone. Someone in the crowd snickers, and it echoes over the quiet heads of the people who are watching and waiting to see what this crazy holy man will do next.

He turns to the wolf, reaches out a hand, and blesses him.

This is the sign to assure us that the wolf will keep its end of the bargain?

A blessing, indeed.

Of course, this is all based on legends about a real man. A real saint. Francis of Assisi. He really did exist, and he really did talk about all of creation being his family. One of the more famous poems or prayers that he wrote is called Canticle of the Sun, or Praise of Creation. He talks about Brother Sun and Sister Moon; Lady Poverty and Sister Death. It really is no wonder that he has become the patron saint of the environment (and animals)! But it is for stories like this about the wolf of Gubbio and his preaching to the birds that we most strongly associate Francis with blessing animals.

For many of us, our animals are indeed our family, certainly they are our close companions and friends. In Francis we find someone who is not afraid to agree with us, who is not afraid to say that as part of creation, these creatures deserve the blessings of God just as much as humans do.

And so, around the feast of Saint Francis we gather together to celebrate, bless, and remember our companions of the not so human variety. We bring them, or the memories of those who have gone ahead of us, to the arms of God and we bless them. Because even though Jesus was undoubtedly human, none of us can say for sure that God doesn’t come into our lives through the love of our pets.

Advent Begins...

... And so does the frantic feeling of the winding up of the semester, which officially ends December 16. With three major papers, a synthesis project, and several smaller reflections due throughout, I am suddenly very aware of the passing of time and how fast this first semester is moving to a close.

I am watching the leaves on the Japanese Maple outside of my window toss in the wind this morning as we are in the midst of wind advisories and a rather strong Santa Ana condition, and feeling quite thankful that it waited until we were back here before it arrived. We had a lovely visit to my parents for Thanksgiving, which was delightful and provided me a much-needed break from paper writing, Greek translating, and general nose-in-book syndrome. We visited All Souls' for the Thanksgiving day service and enjoyed catching up with friends and church family before settling down at my parents house for a quiet feast.

There is so much to be thankful for this year, not the least of which is even being in seminary at all and having this chance to live into the place where God is calling me to be and to serve. If you had asked me last Thanksgiving if I could see myself here in a year's time I probably would have looked at you quizzically and laughed. But when God decides that it is high time something happens, well... just hang on and follow faithfully.

I want to participate in a question that was brought up on another blog: Dream Life Wellness Studio. Lori-Lyn is looking back over 2011 and celebrating it over the next month. Today's prompt really struck me:

Loving 2011: Day One - What surprised you this year and what gift did you find in that surprise?

What surprised me most is the redemption of sorrow and fear that has come out of this year. My husband officially lost his job January 1, 2011. I was only working part time and earning just slightly above minimum wage, and he struggled to know how to proceed in finding another job that would be able to support us. A chance conversation with a neighbor who happened to drop a brief comment about something heard on the news led him to contact a recruiter to find out about returning to the US Army, something he had wanted to do ever since leaving it many years ago. Within six weeks he signed, and the next day the age limit was adjusted again to the point where he would not have been able to return to service. At the same time, he encouraged me to speak to a chaplain recruiter. I humored him, feeling in my heart that after so many tries and denials in formal discernment processes that perhaps my call was either dead or I and my communities in which I had discerned a call to priesthood and service had misread God's direction for me. I made the call to the recruiter the last week in January. I spoke with my rector and diocesan bishop the first week in February. By March I was accepted into seminary and well on my way to doing what needed to be done to be ready to join the Army myself.

Out of this flurry has come a multitude of blessings and reminders that it is not only not in my hands, but also not in my timing. God is truly in control. I am learning so many things about who God is calling me to be, and who I truly am at my heart's core. The biggest gift of all has been the chance to rediscover who God created me to be and to live into that developing knowledge while leaning hard on the unbreakable silver strand of love that ties me irrevocably to my Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.

Welcome 2010

I let go of 2009 quietly. I didn't want any big fanfare, no loud parties, no countdowns. My husband, step-daughter and I spent the evening quietly at home; a fire in the fireplace, homemade clam chowder on the stove, and a jigsaw puzzle on the coffee table in all of it's difficult glory. We didn't make the effort to stay up. I didn't want 2009 to think that I wished it to linger any longer than necessary, so we drifted off to bed when we felt sleepy. I didn't even wake up at midnight with the neighborhood noisemakers. I simply woke to the sun at our window the next morning and a bright new future waiting for me.

I chose a word of the year for 2010. Bloom. Because I feel like a plant that has been carefully transplanted from a place where I was barely surviving (what a shock, though!) and then fed and watered with all kinds of good stuff that seems nasty and icky at first (manure, anyone?). With all of this glorious care, what plant wouldn't recover with lush and healthy growth and a plethora of staggeringly beautiful blossoms? So with the darkness and ickness of 2009 behind me and the door closed, I am blooming in 2010.

On December 30, I received news that allowed me a huge amount of closure for a very painful time in 2009. The door has been closed and I have barred and locked it from my side, to make sure that it stays there until I call on it. But with the closing of that door a whole new door that was opened just a crack at first has blown wide open with all of the glorious possibilities and dreams waiting for me to follow them. So these first days and weeks of a new year, a new decade, are filled with searching for tools to help me in my search for what dreams are truly me and what dreams are simply dreams. Who am I and what gifts was I given at birth in order to fulfill my created purpose? Why was the last path I was on so traumatically ripped away from me... what was it keeping me from doing?

Seeking Christmas

Christmas Eve is a week from today. My creche is on the mantle, waiting for the small figure of the baby Jesus. My tree is in it's stand, waiting for the lights and ornaments that will make it sparkle like magic. I have a list of things to do to keep me busy... baking, wrapping, watching. Yet it feels almost empty this year.

My decorations sit in their boxes, waiting to be set out in their places. There is the beautiful nativity scene embraced by the wings of an angel, lit gently as a nightlight. The lovely Madonna figure crafted many years ago by my aunt that used to grace my Grandparent's house with her gentle presence each Christmas. The sweetly smiling Santa figure that my husband and I picked out our first Christmas that we were together. The angel with feathered wings. The glass ornaments. All of them are waiting patiently for me, sitting reproachfully in the boxes that fill up the space on the floor where I walk around them and carefully avoid looking at them.

I had planned to make lovely goody bags for friends and family this year filled with homemade candies and cookies. The list of what I am planning to make grows smaller and smaller as Christmas grows closer. My alternative plan is ready to go.

Instead, I sit on the couch and wait. I wait, along with my special decorations, along with Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds and the Wise Men. I watch in the dark stillness of the night, wrapped in a nearly finished blanket and unable to sleep. I seek and hope that I am prepared when it breaks through.

I seek the joy, the light, the love of the season. My spirit is cold in me as I wait for the nights of joy that I pray are coming soon. This year it seems that my heart is duller in my breast, my spirit farther away from me, my energy sapped. I have heard myself say, more than once, that "Christmas is just another day this year" and I wonder at how it got this far.

So I press my face close to the spicy needles of my Christmas tree, inhaling the sharp aroma of the sap and rejoicing in the tickling of the branches against my skin. I light a candle to ward off the darkness, praying for the light to lighten my heavy heart. I play the music of the season; carols and ancient tunes sung by joyful voices, ballets played in tuneful splendor by orchestras, thoughtful musical meditations played on the organ. I pray that the music will wash away the slowness that is shadowing my every movement and weighing me down.

I seek out the beauty and I pray. I wait, I listen, and I yearn for that moment in time that is coming when a miracle is born in the darkness of an unknown night.

Settling in for Winter

There has been rain at the cottage for much of the last week, and I have thoroughly enjoyed my time sitting beside the windows or on our covered porch with a cup of hot tea in hand watching the show. I have even dragged out a few of my ufos (Un Finished Objects!) from this summer and am working on completing those. The doily could take me a while as I seem to be having difficulties holding my tension comfortably even, but I'm taking it a little at a time and it is, indeed turning out well. I am almost finished with the lapghan, a heavy acrylic number in grey, plum, and purple Homespun. I'm still not sure what to do with the beginnings of my round ripple afghan as I am not really enamored of the way it is turning out, so I may take it just far enough to be a small table cover or something and use it that way!

Things seem to be stabilizing for me as I settle in to the ways of keeping the cottage in a welcoming and homey way. Books are moving, decorative pieces are being adjusted and readjusted, and the atmosphere is coming together. Now I have to find places for my Christmas and winter season decorations!

Busy Bee

There I was: ahead of my goals, breezing through, spending hours at a time glued to my computer. I had ideas flowing, I was really going to town. Then I stopped. Two days ago. Today is day three. I haven't written at all. Instead, I've been baking, helping my parents prepare stock for Ivy Hill to sell at the upcoming Holiday Home Tour. The house has been full of the wafting scents of Lemon Tea Loaf and Gingerbread, while I have been nibbling on a sample of a Dense Chocolate Loaf that we are thinking of including. Hopefully, while I am rotating pans in and out of the oven and flying high on the lovely smells of delicious baked goods, I will be able to steal some time to work on my NaNo novel.

The hardest part of writing this is suspending my inner critic. The point is to get the novel on paper - not to have it fully edited and ready to publish! I have to keep reminding myself that it is okay if it doesn't make the best sense in the world: I have all the time I want after November is over to edit the heck out of my story. Perhaps I will end up with two or three stories by the time I sort myself out and figure out what the heck it is that I have just written!

Changing Seasons

The wind is picking up, the sky is shades of grey, and the temperature has dropped dramatically since yesterday's clear blue skies.

We are supposed be getting the edge of an Alaskan cold front for the next few days and it is helping me get in the mood for Halloween. Samhain, if you prefer. All Hallows Eve. Followed by All Hallows (All Saints) and All Souls days. Dias de los Muertos.

In other words, the veil between the worlds is thinning at this time and we are preparing for visits from friends and loved ones who have passed on. It isn't that they can't visit or send messages to us at any time, but this time of year is especially potent for celebrating and communicating with them. In many cultures the dead are welcomed with feasts of their favorite foods, special lanterns set out to guide their way and make their path easier, and elaborate displays of photographs and mementos. Think of it as a giant family reunion if thinking about dead people scares you.

I look forward to the shifting energies of this season. The welcoming of those from the other side for a time of reunion, checking in and sharing messages. The turning inward to celebrate and give thanks for all of our blessings, whether we are happy about them or not. The further turning inward to experience the fallow season as we rest and prepare for the return of spring and the blossoming of seeds that have been planted and rested in this quiet time.

Gift Giving at the Cottage

Over at Simple, Green, Frugal Co-op today there is a post gathering Simple, Green and Frugal Christmas Gift Ideas. Since I've already started on our gifts for this year I thought I'd add my two cents to the gathering.



Over the last few years I have been leaning more and more towards gifts that will be useful and not end up gathering dust somewhere. We are presumably giving gifts to people we care about, so why should we give them something that they will never use and perhaps may not even want?

For most of our friends and associates we will be giving "goodie bags" consisting of homemade goodies that are consumable, whether it be cookies, candies, nuts, or other treats with homemade jam or marmalade and perhaps some hand-blended tea added as well.

For the really close people in our lives like parents, godparents, and (bonus) daughter I am making some kind of useful item such as a collection of scarves or an afghan. Something tangible but most definitely usable. These will complement our "goodie bags" for these people.

Several years ago I began a tradition of writing a personal "gift" to each of my loved ones each year, expressing a special prayer for the coming year. Very often when I sit down with a collection of special cards to do this I am not at all sure what I will be saying. I put on some quiet Christmas music, light a candle, wrap a blanket over my legs and meditate on each person before I begin writing. Letting my love for this person flow onto the paper creates a gift that has become a cherished tradition for those I share it with, even the younger ones who I was afraid wouldn't care!

What do you do for your holiday giving?

Happy Fourth of July!

Happy Independence Day!

It started early for those of us at the cottage with a picnic supper at a bay side park and watching two different early fireworks displays. It was a wonderful evening and we are all looking forward to repeating the annual pilgrimage to Ivy Hill to watch the city's fireworks over the harbor tonight. Last year we counted something like 16 different displays from our vantage point!

We will be sharing grilled tri-tip marinated in chimichurri, beautiful fresh white corn from the farmer's market yesterday, grilled onions, homemade potato salad, apple pie, and (if all goes well) homemade cinnamon ice cream. It sure sounds like a lot of food, but we'll manage. We always do and it is always a wonderful evening full of family and fun.

It is also a time when we remember our veterans and those still serving our country. This is, and has been, a military town and we are proud of our men and women in service. Thank God for those who are willing to put their lives on the line for the rest of us when duty calls for it.

Have a wonderful day and enjoy whatever celebrations you are part of!

Happy Valentine's Day

I found this lovely rose while wandering through a website called Rampant Scotland.... I love old-fashioned roses like this one, and it made my day. I wanted to share it with you and hopefully make your day, too! Have a lovely Valentine's Day and soak up all that love!