Denise Levertov was a 20th century poet prophet. Her poem “Making Peace” was not written for the Feast of St. Francis, but it could have been.
A voice from the dark called out,
“The poets must give us
imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar
imagination of disaster. Peace, not only
the absence of war.”
But peace, like a poem,
is not there ahead of itself,
can’t be imagined before it is made,
can’t be known except
in the words of its making,
grammar of justice,
syntax of mutual aid.
A feeling towards it,
dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have
until we begin to utter its metaphors,
learning them as we speak.
A line of peace might appear
if we restructured the sentence our lives are making,
revoked its affirmation of profit and power,
questioned our needs, allowed
long pauses . . .
A cadence of peace might balance its weight
on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence,
an energy field more intense than war,
might pulse then,
stanza by stanza into the world,
each act of living
one of its words, each word
a vibration of light—facets
of the forming crystal.
— Denise Levertov, “Making Peace”
This is who St. Francis was in his own time. A poet of peace who called people, and still today calls people, to restructure the sentence their lives are making, to revoke affirmations of profit and power, to question our needs, to allow for long pauses.
He was a living icon of an imagination of peace ousting the intense, familiar imagination of disaster.
He was a soldier who relished combat until an injury forced him into a long period of convalescence – and it was during that long pause in his life that he came to know Jesus and became the poet of peace for which he is so beloved.
He completely restructured the sentence of his life and created a new life and a new community.
He made that transition by physically divesting himself of all the trappings of wealth and status, literally stripping and appearing naked in the city square, loudly claiming God as his Father and Jesus, the Prince of Peace, as his brother.
The Bishop hurried forward, covered him with his Bishop’s robes and took him in.
Francis formed a new order of monks and, along with his friend Clare, a new order of nuns.
These communities, as in Denise Levertov’s poem, were balanced on a different fulcrum. They were dedicated to creating a cadence of peace, sending an energy field more intense than war, into the world, word by word, and action by action.
He was immensely popular among the young who flocked to join his community. As always, it is the young who so often see the bankruptcy at the heart of empire and who reject its ways of profit and power and domination.
In our time, that rejection of empire and its ways of profit and power leads to environmentalism. The young intuitively understand that the way we treat animals and water and air and the way we treat each other are interconnected.
In 2015 Pope Francis released his encyclical: Laudato Si’: On Care for Our Common Home, he reframed the entire issue of environmental responsibility along those lines —not as a side concern or technical challenge, but as a central moral and spiritual issue of our time. Laudato Si’ is not just an environmental document. It is a profound call to integral ecology, a vision in which care for the earth, justice for the poor, and inner peace are inseparably linked.
The encyclical’s title comes from the Canticle of the Sun by Saint Francis of Assisi. “Laudato si’, mi’ Signore” (“Praise be to you, my Lord”) reflects gratitude and awe with for the natural world, not as something to be used or feared but as a brother and sister to be loved.
The central insight of Laudato Si’ is that everything is interconnected. Environmental, economic, social, cultural, and spiritual problems are not isolated. They are all symptoms of the same moral and spiritual disease: a failure to see the world as gift, as sacred, as shared.
This led Pope Francis to speak of integral ecology, which refuses to separate care for the environment from care for the human person. He insisted that solving the ecological crisis requires addressing poverty, inequality, and broken relationships. Ecological sin is not just about polluting the water; it’s about ignoring the cry of the poor, exploiting the earth for short-term gain, and forgetting that creation is a communion of which we are a part.
We in the church have adopted what we call The Season of Creation, in which our prayers reflect this care of our common home. And the entire Season of Creation invites all of us to an ecological conversion: a spiritual renewal that changes not only how we see the world but how we live in it. Pope Francis wrote that “[l]iving our vocation to be protectors of God’s handiwork is essential to a life of virtue; it is not an optional or a secondary aspect of our Christian experience” (§217).
This conversion includes small everyday actions: reducing waste, conserving energy, reusing resources, buying less, supporting sustainable practices, and spending time in nature. These acts, though seemingly minor, cultivate gratitude, humility, and a deeper sense of connection with creation.
We can also rediscover Sabbath and contemplation, to recover, as Pope Francis wrote, “a serene harmony with creation” (§225). In a fast-paced world, slowing down itself becomes an act of resistance and reverence.
And I don’t know about you, but my Lila-dog invites me daily into slowing down, into moments of contemplation, into a deeper sense of connection not just with her, but with the birds that play in my bird bath, and the trees which give us all shade.
It is a deep honor to bless these animals as they bless us so deeply. We pray, using Pope Francis’ words:
All powerful God,
you are present in the universe
and in the smallest of your creatures.
You embrace with your tenderness all that exists.
Pour out upon us the power of your love,
that we may protect life and beauty.
Fill us with your peace, that we may live
as brothers and sisters, harming no one.
O God of the poor,
help us to rescue the abandoned
and forgotten of this earth,
so precious in your eyes.
Bring healing to our lives,
that we may protect the world and not prey on it,
that we may sow beauty,
not pollution and destruction.
Touch the hearts
of those who look only for gain
at the expense of the poor and the earth.
Teach us to discover the worth of each thing,
to be filled with awe and contemplation,
to recognize that we are profoundly united
with every creature
as we journey towards your infinite light.
We thank you for being with us each day.
Encourage us, we pray, in our struggle,
for justice, love and peace.
