Eden
On that day, says the Lord, I will make a covenant with beasts of the field, birds of the heavens, and creeping things of the ground. I will make you lie down in safety. – Hosea 2:18, adapted (NRSVUE)
Everybody knows that Francis of Assisi was a saint with a thing for animals. But he wasn’t the only one.
In the 7th century, a bear showed Magnus of Füssen a vein of iron ore in the mountains. Magnus gave him cake. Then Magnus took some tools, followed his new pal back to the mountains, and started Bavaria’s mining industry.
In 4th century Turkey, St. Blaise found solace in the woods tending sick and injured animals. During a persecution, the authorities beheaded him with a sword. They knew it was useless throwing him to the lions. No lion would eat him.
The 16th century Peruvian friar, Martin de Porres, was responsible for food provisions in his convent. He was also responsible for killing the mice. He didn’t. He fed them like he did everyone in the community.
A lion rampaged through St Jerome’s monastery in Bethlehem. But Jerome saw that the beast was in pain. He removed a splinter from its paw, making a friend for life. Which is why he’s often depicted with a lion lying like a happy puppy at his feet.
Paul of Thebes lived in the desert with little to sustain him. No worries! A raven fed him daily. When the hermit had visitors, it brought triple rations.
I could go on. I love these stories. I’m not sure why I’m telling them to you though. Except maybe to note that holy people and animals have always gotten along, as if they were back in Eden. And to suggest that maybe part of being holy is to live in such a way that nothing in Nature has anything to fear from you.
Prayer
Call us to ecological commitment, Holy One; your creation has too much to fear from us. We would be holy.
About the AuthorMary Luti is a long time seminary educator and pastor, author of Teresa of Avila’s Way and numerous articles, and founding member of The Daughters of Abraham, a national network of interfaith women’s book groups.