Small Acts of Love Make the Difference

I’ve always had a devotion to wind. Odd, I know, but I’ve always spiritually relished a good gust of wind blowing down a hill or through the trees. The wind has been my constant companion through good times and bad. Some of my brothers think I’m crazy, and they’re probably right. 

Yet, when I first encountered Saint Francis of Assisi, I found in him a like mind, one crazy enough to perceive even the wind and all other natural elements as brothers and sisters. In his “Canticle of the Creatures,” Francis writes, “Praised be you my Lord, through brother wind, and through the air, cloudy and serene, and every kind of weather, through whom you give sustenance to your creatures.”

This year, Franciscans from all over the world gathered in Rome from May 26-31 to celebrate the 800th anniversary of Francis’ Canticle, as well as the 10th anniversary of Pope Francis’ encyclical on the environment inspired by the Canticle, Laudato Si. We heard from speakers like Leonardo Boff, who described our ecological crisis and outlined paths for developing an eco-spirituality that is capable of listening to the cry of the earth and the cry of the poor. We also learned about good practices for fostering integral ecology. Br. James Kernan, OFM of the Province of Our Lady of Guadalupe shared how the Laudato Si’ Center for Integral Ecology at Siena College partners with local and global networks to promote sustainability and climate justice on campus. 

While most of the conference was spent in Rome, we were also lucky enough to get away from the Eternal City to spend a day in the rolling hills of Assisi, the birthplace of St. Francis. We celebrated mass in the church of San Damiano, surrounded by olive trees and sweeping vistas of the surrounding countryside. Francis composed the Canticle toward the end of his life in this church. It is also where legend tells us Francis first heard the voice of Jesus calling him to “go rebuild my house; as you see, it is all being destroyed.” Francis responded by gathering stones and rebuilding. And he didn’t stop there. 

Francis continued repairing little churches around Assisi, including his favorite, the Portiuncula, meaning “little portion,” for the humble plot of land the church sat on. Stone by stone, Francis rebuilt this little chapel outside Assisi, now completely encased in a grand basilica.

While I found many of the basilicas in Rome and Assisi breathtakingly beautiful, sometimes the grandiosity of the churches was dizzying, making it difficult to find a quiet place to listen and pray. But in the Portiuncula, that intimate, stone chapel once surrounded by friars sleeping in grass tents, I found the space I needed to rest in the presence of God. As I knelt against the wall, I touched the stones that Francis may have placed himself, stones he certainly leaned on in times of crisis and prayer.

Sometimes, we Franciscans belittle Francis by suggesting that he misunderstood the call to rebuild the church. We say he didn’t see the bigger picture, at least at first, and took the call too literally. But I think Francis knew exactly what he was called to do, to create these little spaces where he and his brothers and sisters might be able to pray and listen to God and one another. How else was Francis able to perceive all creatures as his siblings? This is why, and how, the tiny chapel of the Portiuncula, nestled in a humble plot of the earth, became the center around which friars gathered, discerned, and shared their common life and mission with one another. 

When confronting the weight of the world’s suffering, we cannot underestimate the importance of prayer and solitude. Like the immensity of some of Rome’s basilicas, the problems facing our common home and human family can seem insurmountable. Our world faces ecological devastation, human displacement and trafficking, hunger, division, and war. What can any one of us do in the face of such threats? The Portiuncula reminds us that nothing happens overnight. The ecological crisis is a spiritual crisis and demands a spiritual response. Francis began with the little things, knowing that everything is connected, that everything has a purpose. Maybe we’ll never see the results of our labors. Maybe we’ll feel as if our actions amounted to nothing. But St. Francis proves that small acts of love and kindness can make all the difference in the world. Francis reminds us to trust in the God who has sent us, so that we might praise God with him saying, “Blessed are those who endure in peace, for by You, Most High, shall they be crowned.”