My twin brother, a professor in the School of Theology at Boston College, just sent me a powerful reading for the Feast of St. Francis. When I tried to locate the original document to give you all just a link, I was unsuccessful. So, with apologies to National Catholic Reporter, here is the article in its original form. If I screwed up, I'll just claim the Jesuit "rule"-- do what you think is right and beg forgiveness later.
Some Things Never Go Away
Some things never go away. The best ones, in fact, come back to us in whole new ways. Saints are like that. For instance, October 4 is the Feast of Saint Francis of Assisi, il poverello, the poor one, whose voice in the newly emerging mercantile class of the 13th century warned of the greed and corruption and destitution that would come when the world was run more on profit for the rich than it was on a prophetic commitment to the poor. And he was right. But Francis was known for more than protests. Francis loved animals, too. He was a walking apostle for ecology and the protection of woodlands, which, having been destroyed for parking lots and housing estates, leave animals who once lived in caves and forests to spill over into our largest cities. He talked to the animals. He understood them. He knew their place in creation. No doubt about it. In a world where species after species is disappearing under the rubric of "progress," where animals are being used for research on materials and cosmetics, where the boundaries between forests and cities are fast disappearing, where bears show up in shopping districts of major cities and crocodiles show up on people's front lawns, we need St. Francis now. It is also becoming clear that Francis knew what we are only now discovering. In our time, the science that separated us from nature is now declaring that animals, too, have intelligence, have emotions, have needs like ours. Research by Dr. Filippo Aureli, professor of animal behavior and co-director of the Research Centre in Evolutionary Anthropology and Palaeoecology in Liverpool, England, indicates that the study of animal emotions, particularly in birds and primates is providing new insight and information on the emotions of humans, as well as the feelings of animals. Well, I am an animal lover, too. And I have been threatening for years now that my last book would be Two Dogs and a Parrot: The Spiritual Lessons I Have Learned From My Pets. The parrot, named "Bennie" for obvious Benedictine reasons, is the most obvious educator of them all. From Bennie I am learning persistence and emotional sensitivity. Both of which are needed in this world of invisible women and neglected children. Persistence is a very good thing for a woman to know in a man's church. If Bennie needs something, she simply refuses to give up trying to get it. She will knock at her hopper until it gets filled, until the door gets opened, until you put her on your shoulder and make her a real part of the community. Emotional sensitivity, the awareness of the needs of needy others, is her forte. She stretches herself out on the top of her cage, thin as a pencil, rigid as a piece of steel and stares at you until you stop work and give her the loving she seeks, for her sake and yours. She teaches us to be very aware of very small signals in life. No wonder that churches to this day bless animals on October 4, the Feast of St. Francis. St. Francis would find it all very normal, very necessary. From where I stand, we need to take another look at what animals have to teach us today, yes, but we have to take another look at what the saints have to say to us today, too. Somehow or other, the models we have put in their stead have not, as a class, managed to fill the gaps. — originally appeared at NCRonline.org.