Patti Normile does exactly that in her article, “Walking through Assisi with Sts. Francis and Clare.” Normile takes readers on a trip to Assisi, traveling the very roads that Francis walked. But it is not merely a travelogue. Rather, “You are invited to visit these sites in prayer and to ponder questions related to Francis’ time that can bring insights and hope into the 21st century,” she writes.

Places such as San Damiano—where St. Francis heard God’s call to “repair my house”—and the refuge of the Carceri offer much food for thought for armchair pilgrims. Following in the footsteps of Sts. Francis and Clare brings the light of their wisdom to help us through challenges we face today.

May St. Francis—and all the saints—guide you along your journey.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t right. Voting is a sacred privilege, our civic responsibility to select the candidates who will best serve our country. And while voting is our duty, for some it’s not a priority. According to the United States Election Project, 139 million Americans voted in the 2016 election—only 60 percent of the population.

The 2020 election, however, is a different animal entirely. COVID-19 has made voting in person irresponsible, if not dangerous. Voting by mail, the logical alternative, has been called into question these past couple of months as unreliable. The possibility of not having our votes accurately counted has suddenly become real.

A Thorny History

Our country’s history with voting for those outside the white/male paradigm is appalling. Abolitionists first proposed extending voting rights to newly freed slaves during Reconstruction, and it was an uphill battle from the start. Although the 15th Amendment in 1870 assured the rights for men of any color to vote, Jim Crow laws in southern states made it all but impossible.

Several tactics were used at the time to keep voting a whites-only exercise. Literacy tests, moral character exams (the irony is too rich), and poll taxes were instituted to keep African Americans from exercising this right. It wasn’t until President Lyndon Johnson signed the Voting Rights Act in 1965, prohibiting racial discrimination with voting, that progress was made. Suffragettes had their own bloodied journey to the polls as well.

COVID-19 has only complicated this year’s election. Science and common sense tell us that wearing masks and social distancing can slow the spread of the disease, so gathering to vote in enclosed spaces would be hazardous. Hence, the need for safe and reliable mail-in voting. But how many of us will put this privilege into practice? A 2020 Pew Research study found that, while mail-in voting statistics differ from state to state, overall rates across the country are relatively low. But COVID-19 has turned absentee voting from an option in past elections to a necessity in this one. And then the noise began—on both sides of the political aisle.

President Donald Trump said in August that he opposed funding the United States Postal Service to deter mail-in voting, asserting that an influx of ballots cannot be accurately counted, thus undermining the integrity of the election. His opponents have charged the president with political gamesmanship to guarantee his reelection. Whatever the president’s motives, voter suppression is certainly a regression. If there’s a chance that mail-in votes won’t be counted, which would include ballots from American soldiers overseas, the election becomes pointless.

Pray, Discern, Vote

To be clear: Voter suppression is a bipartisan strategy. It has been employed by both parties historically. But never has America had to deal with a presidential election and a pandemic that has killed so many of its own in the same year. If a candidate threatens, through rhetoric or legal action, to invalidate our votes, it is a threat to democracy. But it cuts even more deeply: Peel a layer back and it is our own individual worth as citizens that is being undermined.

It’s an unprecedented moment in our history, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Pope Francis, in fact, has had his eye on this election all year. In a January meeting with the US bishops in Rome, before COVID-19 got a foothold in this country, the pope imparted words of wisdom on the election to those present. “Teach your people discernment by you stepping back from the sheer politics of it. If you try to step back and say, ‘but here are the major moral issues that we face,’ that’s what is most important,” the pope was quoted as saying.

That’s a good reminder. In every election, we as citizens and as Catholic Christians must shoulder the weight of many social issues when we vote, not just one or a few. That requires discernment, prayer, and voting our conscience.

But perhaps our prayers should also include a petition that our ballots will be counted, that our government officials will respect this civic sacrament, and honor the rights of those who voted for them. Only then do they deserve our vote of confidence.

Netflix’s new feature film on the life of Marie Curie begins with Polish-born Marie Sk≈Çodowska (Rosamund Pike) arguing with her mentor, Professor Lippmann (Simon Russell Beale), over her laboratory equipment at the University of Paris being moved again without her permission. She is single-minded about her research on the magnetic properties of steel. A fellow scientist, Pierre Curie (Sam Riley), offers her space in his laboratory. Pierre and Marie are attracted to one another but must find a way to work together. He believes in collaboration, though Marie does not. They grow in respect for one another, marry in 1895, and have two children.

Based on the discovery by Henri Becquerel of the X-ray properties of uranium, Marie and Pierre discover two new elements, polonium and radium. Marie calls the energy emissions of radium “radioactivity.” They talk about the potential for good of their discoveries as well as the dangers of them falling into criminal hands. In 1903, Pierre and Becquerel are awarded the Nobel Prize in Physics, and Pierre insists that Marie be included in the prize. She is the first woman to receive the prize.

Tragedy strikes when Pierre is killed in Paris in 1906. In 1911, Marie is awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry. She is the only woman to receive two Nobel Prizes and in two different fields.

Radioactive tells a fascinating story, and Pike’s portrayal of Curie is outstanding. I love the script, which gives the audience the right amount of scientific information to keep us interested as we follow the stories of the main characters. Marie, who was born and raised a Catholic, falls away. She cannot reconcile her mother’s death years before with the idea of a benevolent God. Pierre, a Protestant, develops an interest in spiritualism. After Pierre’s death, Marie dabbles in it, desperate to see her husband again. Riley’s portrayal of Pierre as a kind man who complements Marie is warm and moving.

Throughout the film are scenes of the future showing the dire consequences of the misuse of radium and polonium, such as the atom bomb and the atomic arms race. The good uses are also shown, such as targeted radiation to shrink cancerous tumors and efforts during World War I to equip vehicles with mobile X-ray units.

Curie’s relevance shines through the film. She continues to pave the way for women to assert their intelligence and persist in gaining their rightful place in academia and research.

A-3, PG-13 ‚ Peril, adultery, chauvinism, anti-Semitism.

Pray: The Story of Patrick Peyton

In 1928, two young men emigrate from Ireland to the United States to make their fortune. Born into a poor farming family in Attymass, County Mayo, Patrick and his older brother, Thomas, make their way to their sister’s home in Scranton, Pennsylvania. After landing a job as a sexton at a parish, Patrick begins to feel the call to the priesthood that he had in his youth. The two brothers decide to join the Congregation of the Holy Cross, traveling to the seminary at the University of Notre Dame in Indiana. During his studies, Patrick is waylaid with tuberculosis. During this time, his devotion to Mary, Mother of God, begins to direct his life.

During World War II, Father Patrick begins using the radio, and then film and television, to call people to prayer. In 1947, he founds Family Theater in Hollywood. Actors such as Bing Crosby, Bob Newhart, Ann Blythe, and Lucille Ball lend their talents to productions about the rosary. Father Peyton becomes known as “the Rosary Priest, ” whose motto, “the family that prays together stays together,” becomes popular. He begins Family Rosary Crusades that take place around the world and attract tens of thousands of people.

Father Peyton died in 1992 and was declared venerable in 2017. The media work of Family Theater Productions continues in the heart of Hollywood today.

On the one hand, this film is a standard biographical documentary; on the other, it tells a story of one man’s faith in God, as well as his devotion to Mary that continues to inspire the world. Historical footage is woven with interviews with several of Father Peyton’s relatives and members of his religious community. Pray is an inspiring story that shows why Father Peyton may someday be named a saint.

Not yet rated ‚ No objectionable material.

Words on Bathroom Walls

Adam (Charlie Plummer) is expelled during his senior year of high school after his hallucinations lead to violent behavior. A Catholic school accepts him, but Adam, now diagnosed with schizophrenia, must stay on his medications and keep up his grades. His divorced mother, Beth (Molly Parker), must keep the principal, Sister Catherine (Beth Grant), informed of his mental health status. Adam wants to get his diploma so he can go to culinary school and become a chef.

Adam, beset by three voices in his head, experiences auditory and visual hallucinations that are calming, terrifying, and depressing. He stops taking his medication so he will feel more himself around Maya (Taylor Russell), another senior who tutors him. This leads to a serious relapse. Adam, who is not Catholic, feels lost and talks with Father Patrick (Andy Garcia), who guides him through some very rough times.

Words on Bathroom Walls is a film that sees people with mental illness as real individuals. The film, directed by Thor Freudenthal, is based on the novel by Julia Walton. The brilliantly created sequences of Adam’s hallucinations bring the audience into the world of schizophrenia.

A-3, PG-13 ‚ Peril, cheating, real and imagined violence.

Police officers are more likely to die by suicide than be killed by criminals. A retired Catholic Charities executive and others are working to change that.

Brian Cahill has never been a cop, but burnished in his psyche is a troubling slice of data about police officers. No matter how tough the city or how crime-ridden a neighborhood, psychological risks are more likely to bring down a cop than the most hardened criminals, says Cahill, retired executive director of Catholic Charities in San Francisco.

The fact is, more police officers kill themselves than are killed by criminals. In the first 10 months of 2019, 188 police officers across the nation died by suicide. Two years before, 140 police officers killed themselves, while 129 died in the line of duty.

Particular police work and certain cities have been suicide hot spots. In New York City in the first 10 months of 2019, 10 police officers took their lives. Six in a similar time period killed themselves in Chicago. The rate is even higher among corrections and border patrol officers.

_{John Cahill, a father of two, served as a motorcycle officer in San Jose, California, until his death in 2008.}

A Mission Born of Personal Tragedy

Cahill is a veteran of social service leadership, but he comes to the issue with more than a professional stake. In 2008, just days after his retirement party, he got word that his son, John, a San Jose, California, police officer, 42 years old and the father of two, killed himself.

“I’m just the father of a cop who lost his way,” says Cahill. Like many other family survivors, he has taken it upon himself to make something good come out of personal tragedy. He has studied the issue and spends time in police departments around California and the country, warning police officers and their supervisors to be wary of signs of despair among fellow cops.

“You guys have to train for the hidden risks,” Cahill, a frequent suicide-prevention lecturer for police audiences, often tells them.

For the past eight years, he has tried to shed light upon those risks by making suicide prevention among cops a mission. Cahill speaks regularly to officers in San Francisco and San Jose, and he wrote a book in 2018 about his son’s death, titled Cops, Cons, and Grace: A Father’s Journey Through His Son’s Suicide. His work with Catholic Charities gave him the background and skills to immerse himself in a sensitive issue. “I do think that as a social worker all my life, once I started to climb out of my initial grief and pain, it was a logical and natural inclination to look to how I could help other cops and their families avoid what happened to my son,” he says.

San Francisco police are required to take 40 hours of ongoing education every two years. Cahill gets a half hour of that time to spread his message of the need for self-healing as well as signs to watch out for among colleagues. His theory, and that of others in the field, is that just as it takes a village to raise a child, it takes an involved community to watch out for the mental health of police officers. The model of the lone cop fighting through personal demons doesn’t work.

Theories abound as to why police officers are vulnerable to suicide. Some point to their access to guns; however, others note that often the method of killing does not involve a firearm. Cahill sees the psychology of a police officer as a major factor.

“They are used to bringing control out of chaos, ” he says, noting that they are often the first on the scene of a crime or a tragic accident. When that ability to control personal problems—such as drinking, money problems, or a marriage conflict—begins to slip, cops become vulnerable.

Another factor is the taciturn culture of police departments, especially suspicion that those outside the blue wall cannot fully comprehend the strains of the work.

Police are often reluctant to ask for help, says Cahill, noting that there is a credo among many officers that doing so is a sign of weakness. In some departments, admitting to mental illness or addiction can mean squandering a chance for promotion or being assigned to restricted duties.

But police departments across the country are beginning to change, trying to encourage officers to seek help when needed.

One such department is San Francisco, where Art Howard has risen to the rank of sergeant over an 18-year career. He is now part of the department’s employee assistance program.

“Suicide is killing more cops than bad guys [are],” he says, talking to a reporter on a rare day off. He echoes Cahill, whom he has worked with on employee assistance programs, when it comes to analyzing the whys of police suicide. “In law enforcement, we take control of situations,” he says. “That’s part of our job. When we feel out of control, we feel depressed.”

A common issue among police officers is alcoholism, often aggravated by post-traumatic stress disorder, much like veterans who have been through war. In the jargon of therapy, too many stressed police officers are self-medicating via drinking and other drugs.

A Lifetime’s Trauma in One Day

Experts on police mental health note that the nature of the job creates special challenges. For most people, a violent event may happen once or twice in their lives. For many veteran officers, simply going to work may result in an encounter that could prove traumatic.

A study by the Ruderman Family Foundation noted that a typical police officer encounters 188 critical incidents in a career, traumatic events such as the beating of a child, a deadly car accident, or seeing a corpse.

The nature of police work is not normal, says Howard. Exposure to violence and accidents, sometimes resulting in death, is part of a police officer’s work. “That could be a Monday for us,” he says, noting cops’ repeated exposure to trauma can create adrenaline rushes that are hard to get down from.

Howard notes that some military veterans working for the San Francisco Police Department who have experienced combat and who have served as officers tell him that the pressure is often more intense in police work, that the exposure to trauma is even more intense.

What develops, says Howard, is a “hypervigilant stance that officers get into by being on guard all the time.”

The go-it-alone attitude is beginning to crack as departments across the country promote mental health initiatives. One of his goals, says Howard, is to encourage officers to look out for themselves as well as their fellow officers. The goal is to encourage them to seek therapy, to promote a culture that can overcome the stigma attached to seeking help. The department trains 300 officers in peer support, helping them learn to identify warning signs. “Everything we’re doing is suicide prevention,” says Howard.

That approach is now more common across the country.

Chicago police officer Cindy Phillips began a program she calls STAR (Suicide Trauma and Recovery), intended to bring police officers together to talk out personal issues. It’s a program she would like to extend around the country.

Phillips, a 19-year police veteran, began STAR after her 17-year-old daughter Emily killed herself. Emerging from her own grief, she wanted to help others. The issue of suicide among her police colleagues was obvious to her.

The goal of STAR is to get officers to talk about issues without fear of stigma.

“Police officers will tend to open up to other police officers,” she says. STAR brings together cops to share personal and emotional concerns.

The group sessions are not intended as professional therapy. “But at least if you are talking, you are getting a foot in the door,” says Phillips. The idea is to present a friendly community for troubled officers, who can still perceive even the most well-intentioned official channels as obstacles.

Phillips believes that talking about her own struggle can help others. Her work is geared not only to police officers but also to the families, like hers, that have suffered the trauma of suicide.

“Every single person I meet, I will tell them Emily’s story. It opens up a taboo subject,” she says.

_{(From left) Chaplain Bob Montelongo, a deacon and a cop, stands with Officer Jason Font and Father Dan Brandt outside Guaranteed Rate Field in Chicago.}

Cop-Chaplain: ‘One Is Too Many’

Robert Montelongo, another Chicago police officer, supports Phillips’ efforts. Suicide prevention is a team effort that has to involve everyone, including cops who are not personally affected but can see the issue emerging in the lives of their fellow officers, he says.

Montelongo, 22 years a cop, is also a deacon for the Archdiocese of Chicago and now serves as a police chaplain. Because of the size of the department, he has seen a number of suicides among fellow officers.

“One is just too many,” says Montelongo, noting that he is sometimes one of the first on the scene and is expected to offer consolation to both fellow cops and families. He has knelt over and blessed the bodies of suicide cop victims.

Why are cops vulnerable? He points to the nature of the job. Every day, cops deal with the worst days that others experience. It can be wearing.

“You see the horrible things that happen in the world,” he says. Police are on the front lines of social disorder, especially in a city like Chicago, which has one of the nation’s highest murder rates.

Montelongo wears three uniforms on the job: civilian office attire, a police uniform, and the clericals of a deacon. These roles have much in common, says Montelongo, who compares being a police officer to a religious calling. “We are called to a vocation to go out and help others, to put it on your shoulders. It’s the call of a police officer.”

In many ways, his work with survivors of cop suicide is a ministry of presence. There are no preplanned magic words. When responding to such a call, Montelongo will pull over and say a prayer that he can bring the healing of the Holy Spirit to the scene, whether on the job or at the police officer’s home.

For Catholics, religious concerns often emerge when dealing with the suicide of a fellow officer or family member.

Some Catholic police families find little solace in their religion, which once condemned the act of suicide as contrary to God’s law. But in more recent times pastoral leaders emphasize that no one in this world can judge the culpability of a suffering victim. The Catechism of the Catholic Church states, “Grave psychological disturbances, anguish, or grave fear of hardship, suffering, or torture can diminish the responsibility of the one committing suicide” (2282).

Montelongo communicates to grieving families and friends that their loved one suffered from an illness, like those who die from cancer. It is a battle that could not be overcome, much like a physical illness.

Prevention is accomplished through supportive environments for all.

“The greatest thing we can do is to get people to talk to us,” he says. Montelongo spent many years on the street, including a stint on bicycle patrol. It helps his credibility to have a vocation as both a Catholic cleric and a police officer.

“I’ve done what they’ve done. It means a lot. They’ll use police lingo that I will understand,” he says, something a civilian would have trouble comprehending.

For example, cops at the scene of great tragedies often maintain a cool demeanor, appearing to the outsider as oblivious to the carnage that surrounds them. They may use language that can seem insensitive, for example, referring to a corpse as a “stiff.” But Montelongo knows it is part of the job, a way to rise above exposure to horror.

The civilian world can help by providing emotional and spiritual support for cops, he says. At St. Gabriel Church in the Canaryville neighborhood of Chicago, parishioners regularly pray the rosary for police officers. It is a quiet act, but appreciated.

“We need to have that,” says Montelongo, who notes that officers feel the sting of volatile opposition to the police, which has at times been a part of life in Chicago and other major cities.

In many police departments, there is a long tradition of Catholic involvement.

For survivors, faith in a loving God is one way to move toward acceptance of a tragedy and healing, says Phillips, a member of St. Barbara Parish in Chicago. “I can’t change it, ” she says of her experience with her daughter. “I give it to God and let him take care of it.”

For Cahill, urging police officers to seek help is one way he works through the issues surrounding his son’s death. He also receives spiritual direction from an 85-year-old Jesuit priest, whom he respects for his wisdom and counsel. In his book, he describes hearing his son’s voice on occasion.

He quotes the spiritual writer Father Ron Rolheiser that God’s love, unlike ours, can go through locked doors, a thought that offers him solace.

Inspired by Franciscan spirituality, a friar and photographer in Mexico trains his camera on the world around him.

Franciscans figure in strongly to the history of Mexico and the presence of the Church there. Juan Diego famously reported the Marian apparitions of Our Lady of Guadalupe to Bishop Juan de Zumárraga, a Franciscan friar. The religious order established numerous missions across the region, with many still operational to this day. In a country with nearly 93 million Catholics, one doesn’t have to travel far before seeing signs of the Church’s presence, whether they be basilicas or the brown robes of a Franciscan habit.

In the northern foothills of the Sierra Madre Oriental mountain range, the bustling city of Monterrey, Mexico, is home to about 1.1 million people and a major industrial center in the Latin American nation. But like everywhere in Mexico, the Church is intertwined with society. Away from the towering modern skyscrapers and factories churning out raw materials such as steel and concrete, the St. Pio Friary, located southeast of the city, stands in stark contrast as a bastion of peace, introspection, and spiritual rejuvenation.

A mission of the Capuchin Franciscans Western America Province (headquartered in Burlingame, California), the friary is administered by the Capuchin Franciscans of northern Mexico. It’s a place for those discerning their vocation to engage in faith formation, prayer, and study while also serving as a springboard to connecting future friars to the surrounding community, local parishes, and schools.

Through a Franciscan Lens

This is also the place where Friar Javier Garza, OFM Cap, responded to the call to religious life. Finding his university studies in business administration to be less than fulfilling, a young Javier turned to a weekly religious education class for comfort and deeper meaning.

Around the same time that he made the leap to discerning the vocation of religious life, Friar Javier discovered a profound passion for photography. He’s honed his skill as a photographer for the past 10 years, and it’s clear that his identity as a friar is inseparable from his art. Friar Javier sees the world—figuratively and literally—through a Franciscan lens.

_{Friars cast a fishing net, bringing to mind Jesus’ invitation to Peter and Andrew in Matthew 4:19: “‘Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.'”}

_{The balance and simplicity of Reflection of Peace echo core values of Franciscan religious life.}

_{The life of a friar can be somewhat of a balancing act. Time spent alone absorbing the beauty of nature can help reenergize efforts to minister to members of the faith community.}

_{“The areas of seeking, listening, dialogue, and discernment make fraternity a privileged place for encountering God and for the formation and companionship of our brothers,” says Friar Javier.}

_{A friar’s rosary hangs from his cord. Devotion to Mary is immensely popular in Mexico, a nation of nearly 93 million Catholic faithful.}

_{This photo, taken at a farm outside Monterrey, is reminiscent of Pope Francis’ call for priests to be “shepherds living with the smell of the sheep.”}

_{In the photo titled Francis, Repair My Church, one can imagine the early followers of St. Francis in a similar setting, assisting their leader in rebuilding churches and chapels.}

Javier Garza, OFM Cap, is a Franciscan friar and photographer in Monterrey, Mexico. He joined the Capuchins of northern Mexico in 2008.

Francis harbored within himself a profound instinct that the saving plan of God, as revealed by the child-Savior born in Bethlehem, was to touch every part of the created world.

We often associate St. Francis of Assisi with birds. There are 13th-century stories of Francis preaching to birds in trees. A famous painting by Giotto portrays Francis humbly admiring birds on the ground, his hand raised in blessing. In popular images of Francis today, we see birds circling his head or perched on his shoulders. And let’s not forget the countless admirers of St. Francis who are happy to place him on their birdbaths!

In reading St. Bonaventure’s Life of St. Francis recently, I was surprised by where Bonaventure positioned what was Francis’ most famous story of preaching to birds. He has the story occurring right at the point in Francis’ life where Francis is struggling with a deep personal dilemma: Should he retire from the world and devote himself entirely to prayer or should he continue traveling about as a preacher of the gospel?

To answer this question, St. Francis sends brothers to seek the advice of two of his most trusted colleagues: Brother Sylvester and the holy virgin Clare and her sisters.

The word comes back very quickly from both Sylvester and Clare that it is their clear judgment that God wants Francis to keep proclaiming the good news of God’s saving love.

No sooner does Francis hear their response than he immediately stands up, and in the words of St. Bonaventure, “without the slightest delay he takes to the roads, to carry out the divine command with great fervor.”

Francis’ Sermon to the Birds

The typical reader at this juncture, I believe, would expect St. Bonaventure to portray Francis as rushing off to the nearest village or marketplace to begin preaching the gospel to the people gathered there. But where does Francis actually go? Francis’ very next stop, according to Bonaventure, is this: “He came to a spot where a large flock of birds of various kinds had come together. When God’s saint saw them, he quickly ran to the spot and greeted them as if they were endowed with reason….

“He went right up to them and solicitously urged them to listen to the word of God, saying,  ‘Oh birds, my brothers and sisters, you have a great obligation to praise your Creator, who clothed you in feathers and gave you wings to fly with, provided you with pure air and cares for you without any worry on your part.’…The birds showed their joy in a remarkable fashion: They began to stretch their necks, extend their wings, open their beaks and gaze at him attentively.

“He went through their midst with amazing fervor of spirit, brushing against them with his tunic. Yet none of them moved from the spot until the man of God made the sign of the cross and gave them permission to leave; then they all flew away together. His companions waiting on the road saw all these things. When he returned to them, that pure and simple man began to accuse himself of negligence because he had not preached to the birds before.”

Thomas of Celano, who wrote an earlier biography of St. Francis, told this same story of Francis’ sermon to the birds, including Francis’ admission of “negligence,” but Celano adds this sentence: “From that day on, [Francis] carefully exhorted all birds, all animals, all reptiles, and also insensible creatures, to praise and love the creator…” (see I Celano XXI).

All Creatures Form One Family

Bonaventure’s story of Francis preaching to birds was a minor shock to me and perhaps to you also. Had Francis not just learned from his special advisors Brother Sylvester and Lady Clare that God wanted him to continue his preaching ministry? And should we not assume that the primary audience of his preaching should be other human beings—and not bunches of birds? I believe that Bonaventure is trying to shock us into widening our horizons, and into learning with St. Francis that the whole family of creation deserves more respect and ought to be invited to praise God along with us human beings. Maybe just as Francis accused himself of negligence for not inviting the birds—and other animals, reptiles, and so forth—to praise God with him, so we need to admit the same kind of negligence, too.

The more St. Francis grew in wisdom and in his understanding that God’s love goes out to all creatures, the more he began to see that all creatures make up one family. The most important key to Francis’ understanding that all creatures form one family is the Incarnation.

Francis had a great fascination for the feast of Christmas. He was deeply aware of that one moment in history in which God entered creation and the Word became flesh. In his mind, this awesome event sent shockwaves through the whole fabric of creation. The Divine Word not only became human. The Word of God became flesh, entering not only the family of humanity but the whole family of creation, becoming one in a sense with the very dust out of which all things were made.

Francis had a keen sense that all creatures—not just humans—must be included in the celebration of Christmas. Francis’ biographers tell us that he wanted the emperor to ask all citizens to scatter grain along the roads on Christmas Day so that the birds and other animals would have plenty to eat. Walls, too, should be rubbed with food, Francis said, and the beasts in the stable should receive a bounteous meal on Christmas Day. He believed that all creatures had a right to participate in the celebration of Christmas.

More and more, Francis harbored within himself a profound instinct that the saving plan of God, as revealed by the child-Savior born in Bethlehem, was to touch every part of the created world. Given this vision, it was natural for Francis to take literally Jesus’ command in Mark’s Gospel to “proclaim the gospel to every creature”—to birds and fish, rabbits and wolves, as well as to humans. St. Francis refused to be a human chauvinist—presuming that he was to be saved apart from the rest of creation.

Will Other Creatures Join Us in Heaven?

Will we see our pets and other creatures in the next life? Only God can answer a question like this. But because of his preaching to the birds and his growing respect for other creatures, St. Francis seemed to be developing the insight that God’s plan of salvation is perhaps larger than most of us have imagined. Near the end of his life, Francis composed his Canticle of the Creatures in which he invites all creatures to praise God—Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Brother Fire, Sister Water, and our Sister Mother Earth and so forth.

He seems to see more clearly than ever that all creatures make up one family of creation. And this leads to the question: If we, like Francis, are expected to invite all creatures to praise God with us during our life here on earth, shouldn’t they also be invited to praise God in heaven, as well?

Read: Will I See My Pet in Heaven?