Brother Sun, Sister Moon

The feast day of Francis of Assisi is October 4. In this harvest season, as I drive through the countryside past golden fields of corn, I think of Francis and his great love for nature.

I see him running through the fields of his scenic Umbrian countryside, robe flapping around him as he shouts his words of praise — lyrics about glorious flowers, singing birds, and the glowing fields of wheat. In what would come to be known as his Canticle of Creation, Francis praises the beauty and presence of the natural world and all its creatures, and gives thanks for his companions, brother Sun and sister Moon.




In the background, I hear Donovan singing during this scene in the 1972 Zeffirelli movie. That’s neither here nor there, but why does life seem richer when there’s a soundtrack?




Except that Francis actually began this poem not when he was out in the fields being inspired. The words came when he was seriously ill and lying in bed. How was he able to sing praises of joy when he felt so horrible that he couldn't get up? When I’m sick, praise is the last thing on my mind. I am truly a horrible patient.

Already in exile from his home and family, after days of being cold and shivering, perhaps the words slipped into his consciousness when a single ray of warm sunshine touched his skin, like the comforting touch of a friend.

Rather than moan about his suffering, he celebrated this simple pleasure and gave thanks for this.