Sometime in April 1226, lying acutely ill in the grounds of St Clare’s San Damiano convent, St Francis of Assisi wrote the Cantico di fratre sole, the Canticle of Brother Sun.
Nowadays we sing it as ‘All Creatures of Our God and King’. It is a cosmic hymn of praise to God in which the whole natural world joins. Pope Francis encyclical, Laudatio si (‘Praise Be’), quotes it at length (87).
Francis’ biographer, Thomas of Celano, says that all God’s creatures ‘filled Francis with wondrous and unspeakable joy as he beheld the sun, or raised his eyes to the moon, or gazed on the stars, and the firmament...Even towards little worms he glowed with exceeding love... he used to pick them up...and put them in a safe place, that they might not be crushed.’
Conscious of his own approaching death, the saint sings: ‘Praise to thee, O Lord, for our sister mortal death, from whom no one may escape.’ Francis, ‘that active and compelling figure’ (10) is omnipresent in Laudatio si.
The encyclical is an extraordinary document addressed to ‘every living person on this planet’ about ‘care for our common home’ (3) and it is essentially a reflection on life in the contemporary world. Francis places himself in a papal tradition of concern for the environment from Paul VI in 1971 to Benedict XVI. He also highlights the work of Orthodox Patriarch Bartholomew who says ‘to commit a crime against the natural world is a sin against ourselves and...against God’; the attached footnote mentions John Chryssavgis, an Australian-born Orthodox priest, who is theological/environmental adviser to Bartholomew.
Laudatio si gives no comfort to global warming deniers. Based on the scientific consensus he says that ‘most global warming...is due to the great concentration of greenhouse gases...released mainly as a result of human activity’ (23). This results from ‘current models of production and consumption’ (26) and the worst impact will ‘be felt by developing countries in coming decades’ (25) through destruction of ecosystems, shortage of fresh water (29) and sea level rise. There is no comfort either for technologies ‘based on the use of highly polluting fossil fuels – especially coal’, which need ‘to be progressively replaced without delay’ (165)
He is particularly critical of the loss of biodiversity: ‘The great majority [of plants and animals] become extinct for reasons related to human activity. Because of us thousands of species will no longer give glory to God by their very existence, nor convey their message to us. We have no such right’ (33). He is critical of short-term politics ‘with environmental protection...altered with every change of government’ (181).
Francis has little patience for technological solutions and ‘fixes’. He mounts a profound critique of technology that sounds much like that of philosopher Martin Heidegger. He doesn’t quote Heidegger, but instead a favourite theologian of Benedict XVI, Romano Guardini, who was influenced by the philosopher. Francis links the ‘quick fix’ mentality to ‘the idea of infinite or unlimited growth which proves so attractive to economists, financiers and experts in technology’ (106). He says ‘technology tends to absorb everything into its ironclad logic’ (108) which favours ‘the interests of certain powerful groups’ (107).
Another group that is criticised are those – like me – who say that over-population is the problem. ‘To blame population growth instead of extreme...consumerism...is one way of refusing to face the issues’. He is critical of ‘certain policies of “reproductive health” and claims that ‘demographic growth is fully compatible with an integral and shared development’ (50). Thus he reduces the population issue to consumerism and inequity in distribution of the world’s goods.
This focuses a theme that runs through Laudatio si: Francis’ attempt to integrate environment with social justice and equity. Until now the Catholic emphasis has been on social justice. Sure, there has been recognition of ecological issues, but that hasn’t been the emphasis. Francis is trying to rebalance this by focusing equally on the environment and equity. He sees them as intimately interconnected. ‘There can be no ecology,’ he says, ‘without an adequate anthropology’ (118). This is close to the essence of his message. Everything is inter-related.
Francis tries hard to keep ecology and social justice together, but I’m not sure he quite succeeds. That’s because I don’t think you can, much as I would like to think otherwise. The primary moral emphasis has to be on the earth; the natural world comes first.
The final chapter is a profound meditation on the Christian contribution to ecological spirituality and highlights the call to ‘ecological conversion’. He says this ‘entails gratitude and gratuitousness, a recognition that the world is God’s loving gift...a loving awareness that we are not disconnected from the rest of creatures, but joined in a splendid universal communion’ (220).
Laudatio si needs a good editor. I reckon there are about four different writers leading to inconsistency and repetition. But it is still an incisive, practical, realistic and far-reaching encyclical that tackles the most important issues facing us honestly and with absolute integrity. In places it is exquisitely beautiful, almost poetic, e.g. paragraph 53. It is certainly an extraordinary letter that will upset a lot of apple carts in the Church and in the world.
Paul Collins' most recent book on religion and ecology is Judgment Day: The Struggle for Life on Earth (2010).
Image - Bartolomeo Della Gatta, Stigmata of St Francis (Wikimedia Commons)