Eco-Penance: Seek Wilderness, Seek God

By Fred Young, SFO

In the twenty years since my profession in the Secular Franciscan Order, I have increasingly found myself seeking solace in nature. As a Catholic Christian following in the footsteps of Francis I have learned through study and prayer that he is more than the man in the birdbath. He was indeed a nature mystic. In his study of Scripture (which is replete with praise for nature), Francis did not have to read far to discover that we are all commissioned to be stewards:

“The Lord God then took the man and settled him
in the Garden of Eden to cultivate and care for it.”

Genesis 2:15

Rejecting the historical paradigm of his time, Francis set out to radically fulfill his Gospel vision of life. He wholeheartedly embraced creation in what can be termed “panentheism.” Theologian Jay McDaniel explains the term in the following way:

"Coined in the nineteenth century by K.F.C Krause (1781-1832). Literally, the term means "everything in God." As used here, panentheism implies an ecological way of thinking about God in which, even as God and Creation are distinguished, God is understood to be intimately connected to Creation, and vice-versa…Panentheism is properly distinguished from strict pantheism, which implies an absolute equation of God and Creation. Panentheism is the view that the Creation and its processes are somehow 'in' God, even though God is "more than" Creation if God is the Sacred Whole, then that Whole is indeed more than the sum of its parts.”

Francis had a habit of befriending animals and making them his pets. This is often attributed to a special love he felt for them as part of creation. Several anecdotes can be offered. According to his early biographer Thomas of Celano, on one occasion Francis was presented a live carp as a present. He named the creature "Brother Fish." In his recognition of all of creation he labeled creatures in this way, i.e., "Brother Snake," "Brother Ram," "Sister Wren," etc. He accepted the gift of the fish and immediately released it. The fish remained at the side of the boat where Francis was and did not leave until it was given permission to by the saint. Another example includes his effort to spare even the lowest creatures from being trodden on including worms and insects and even compares himself to them. Many allegorical ideas that could be associated with Jesus Christ took on special importance to Francis. As such, the plight of lambs was significant to him. Francis went out of his way to tend to the well being and protection of animals much like the early ascetics did.

As Francis was undergoing his conversion experience he lived essentially as a hermit much like the ascetics of the past had. It was here that he developed much of his love and devotion to animals. He nursed injured wildlife, released a rabbit from a snare, and praised God with a chorus of birds. His appreciation of wildlife was similar to the Christian hermits of the past. Many of these anecdotes are described in the Legend of Perugia and the Legend of the Three Companions. Francis also made allegorical parallels in his admonitions based on the behavior of both people and what he witnessed in creation. Brother Leo states: what Francis considered to be a greedy baby robin he transferred as warning against greed in people. He also observed the conduct of larks as symbolic of obedient friars.

There is little doubt that Francis was inspired in his love of creation, yet this was not new to Christendom. As early as the fourth century A.D., the ascetic St. Basil recorded his appreciation of the environment that surrounded his hermitic retreat:

"It is a lofty mountain overshadowed with a deep wood, irrigated on the north by cold and transparent streams. At its foot is spread a low plain, enriched perpetually with the streams from the mountains. The wood, a virgin forest of trees of various kinds and foliage which grows around it, almost serves as a rampart; so that even the Isle of Calypso, which Homer evidently admired as a paragon of loveliness, is nothing in comparison with this…My hut is built on another point, which uplifts a holy pinnacle on the summit, so that the plain is outspread before the gaze, and from the height I can catch a glimpse of the river flowing around, which to my fancy affords no less delight than the view of the Strymone as you look from Amphipolis…The Iris, on the other hand, flowing with a swifter course than any river I know, for a short space billows along the adjacent rock, and then, plunging over it, rolls into a deep whirlpool, affording a most delightful view to me and to every spectator, and abundantly supplying the needs of the inhabitants, for it nurtures an incredible number of fishes in its eddies. Why need I tell you the sweet exaltations from the earth or the breezes of the river? Other persons might admire the multitude of the flowers, or the lyric birds, but I have no time to attend to them. But my highest eulogy of the spot is, that, prolific as it is of all kinds of fruits from its happy situation, it bears for me the sweetest of all fruits, tranquility.”

Many levels of appreciation for the natural environment are evident in St. Basil's description of his surroundings. This includes the utility of placing his hermitage there for survival purposes as well as his own contemplation of creation. It demonstrates that he was not transcendent, but rather immanent in creation. He achieved Shalom and was in complete harmony with his surroundings and with God. Some would describe this as a paradise on Earth. St. Francis experienced much of the same in his retreats in the Umbrian countryside. Certainly Celtic Christianity was an influence on Francis and it is known he was particularly fond of the prayer St. Patrick’s Breastplate.

Not only was Francis a mystic, he was indeed a nature mystic. That is, after his conversion, he sought contemplation and self-surrender to obtain union with God. Beyond that, he became an exponent of a mystical theology that incorporated the communion of all of creation with God. This was very much in the Christian tradition. He viewed nature as sanctified by the Incarnation. There are many stories attesting to his view of 'nature'--a word he never used but implied by his use of the word 'creation'. Francis could see Heaven in all of creation. He would praise God in a flower, a river or a small creature. Thomas of Celano noted that when Francis considered

"the glory of the flowers, how happy he was to gaze at the beauty of their forms and to enjoy their marvelous fragrance! How easily his spirit would take wing and rise to meditating on the beauty of that unique flower that blossomed fair as the approaching spring, from the "root of Jesse" and by its fragrance brought new life to countless men who were dead in their souls! When he found many flowers growing together, it might happen that he would speak to them and encourage them, as though they could understand, to praise the Lord. It was the same with the fields of corn and the vineyards, the stones in the earth and in the woods, all the beauteous meadows, the tinkling brooks, the sprouting gardens, earth, fire, air and wind--all these he exhorted in his pure, childlike spirit to love God and to serve him joyfully. He was wont to call created things his brothers and sisters, and in a wonderful manner inaccessible to others he would enter into the secret of things as one to whom "the glorious liberty of the children of God" (Romans 8:21) had been given."

No greater description of St. Francis and his relationship to creation has ever been recorded. This, in essence, was the core view of Francis' rejection of man's transcendence over nature and his immanence in it.

Although theologians at Francis’ time had yet to fully explored the issues of transcendence and immanence, and the fact that Francis had no theological training, it is my view that he came to this viewpoint through his own reading of Scripture and the fact that he was divinely influenced. For contemporary interpretations of Francis relationship with creation see Reverend Edward A. Armstrong’s St. Francis: Nature Mystic (1973), Roger D. Sorrell’s St. Francis of Assisi and Nature (1988) and the recently published Franciscan Theology of the Environment (2002) by Sr. Dawn M. Nothwehr, OSF.

We as Franciscans in the 21st century are called to action as Stewards of Creation. We must adopt a theocentrism, which is the true Catholic Christian answer to the environmental global crisis derived from anthropocentrism. Theologian Vincent Rossi explains, “Theocentrism condemns the tragic distortions of anthropocentrism…while affirming mankind’s priestly role at the center of creation. Theocentrism turns stewardship away from management wise or unwise, and toward servanthood” as described in the Hebrew Scriptures.” David expressed this view in a Psalm:

"The Earth is the Lord's and all it holds, the world and those who live there.
For God founded it on the seas, established it over the rivers."

(Psalm 24:1-2)

An example of this type of stewardship would be the turning away from destructive, industrial forest practices such as clear-cutting to a sustained-yield level of harvest that can carefully continue without jeopardizing the ability of forests to reach maturity or lose biodiversity. A mentor of mine, Orin Gelderloos, who is a theologian and a biologist, stated that:

“This evolution in attitudes to include recognition of both the physical and spiritual world demonstrates a convergence of ecology and theology although it may not be evident to many people in either discipline. Theologians are rediscovering complexities and fascinating ecological interactions in the natural world.”

Modern theologians have recognized the value of biblical themes that stress stewardship. This is especially prevalent within the Roman Catholic Church and mainline Protestant denominations.

The Catholic response to the environmental crisis was addressed and brought to the mainstream of thinking when Pope John Paul II reiterated and expanded on this problem in The Ecological Crisis: A Common Responsibility, a message he delivered on January 1, 1990 regarding the moral implications of the ecological crisis. The Holy Father warned that on:

“another level, delicate ecological balances are upset by the uncontrolled destruction of animal and plant life or by a reckless exploitation of natural resources. It should be pointed out that all of this, even if carried out in the name of progress and well-being, is ultimately to mankind’s disadvantage. Finally, we can only look with deep concern at the enormous possibilities of biological research. We are not yet in a position to assess the biological disturbance that could result from indiscriminate genetic manipulation and from the unscrupulous development of new forms of plant and animal life to say nothing of the unacceptable experimentation regarding the origins of human life itself…The complexity of the ecological question is evident to all. There are, however, certain underlying principles, which, while respecting the legitimate autonomy and the specific competence of those involved, can direct research towards adequate and lasting solutions. These principles are essential to the building of a peaceful society; no peaceful society can afford to neglect either respect for life or the fact that there is an integrity to creation” [emphasis in original].

The theme of this essay is penance, the penance that we as Franciscans must embrace in order to witness for the sanctity of creation. It is imperative that we become “in-tune” with nature and develop a personal relationship with creation. Last week I returned from a three-week sojourn at Isle Royale National Park in Lake Superior. The purpose of this visit was both to work (I am writing a dissertation entitled: The Wolves of Lake Superior and the Social Construction of Nature) and to observe nature. As a Franciscan I am drawn to nature. Fall is quickly descending upon those of us who live in the North Woods, as such, I found myself one of only a very few people on this island wilderness. I am blessed to be able to spend this kind of time in such a remote place with little human contact. The experience is nearly impossible to quantify and could best be described as “monastic.”

I quickly found myself without the creature comforts of “civilization” – no TV, radio, telephone, traffic, e-mail, Internet access, electricity, or running water. At one point I didn’t see or speak to another person for over 5 days. The only sounds I experienced were those made by wildlife, wind, and the ever-crashing waves of Lake Superior. This instant immersion (after crossing 77 miles of open water) in creation was stunning in its simplicity. Although I was there to conduct research on predator/prey relationships (wolf & moose of which I observed many) it was the solitude that was most telling. I found that I was completely immanent in creation, not transcendent over it.

Although I am not advocating that we all undertake such a rugged or strenuous retreat, most of us can easily take a stroll through a local forest, on a beach, through the desert or even a meadow. Learn of the natural world and you will quickly come to a greater appreciation of this wonderful planet that God created. I have a special place in my heart as a Franciscan for wolves since I first time I heard the story of The Wolf of Gubbio. This led me to both a spiritual quest and an academic journey to study them. This awareness of nature has revealed to me the love that God shows to as all. Seek wilderness, seek God. Peace to all!