Nature’s Best Friend — A Blessing of the Animals

It is truly good to have so many visitors here with us today. In case any of our invited guests decide this really is their spiritual home, I want to say welcome, you are truly wanted here. And I also want to say that we have special pledge forms you can sign right after the service with paw prints.

But all joking aside, what our friends we have blessed here today offer in our lives is real, it is tangible. Whether we are talking about the actual affection we feel when our face is covered in slobber, better known as kisses, or whether it is the music and fluttering of our winged companions, or the silent stealth of some of our more skilled hunters, our fellow animals offer us love, comfort, and a little bit of awe, really, at the beauty and variety of life created in our world.

I recall feeling this awe pretty early on in life. Where I lived as a small child, there was a museum and nature center nearby. I don’t know if places like this exist now, but the way that the entire place was arranged was so that children could walk through and pens or enclosures would separate the human animals from some of the non-human animals. But, and this is what was a little different, along all of the pathways through the center and around the penned enclosures, the human and some of the non-human animals could interact.

And like a lot of us know, one of the primary ways our friends enjoy interacting is to get yummy food into their bellies, right? Well, one of the things we cold do was purchase a bag of feed for a dollar or two, and then feed any soul we wished with it. And I was doing just that, making my merry way as a tiny human animal among our non-human animal friends, when…WHAM!

I turned to see what had happened, and standing before me…was a goat. Now I don’t know exactly what I had done. I don’t remember pulling any beards. I don’t remember pinching, prodding, or teasing anybody. But something I did, or perhaps, something I was holding, caused this goat to lay me out flat. It was a more equal fight than it appeared, though. The goat got in one good butt. And I had one good ‘n’ sore butt. So we were even, I suppose.

I can’t say that I felt awe in that moment. I sure felt like crying. And like many young people taking a tumble, I might have been more upset by the shock of what occurred than any pain. In some small way, learning so painfully that something so cute and so cuddly was also more powerful than I was, inspired in me a kind of awe. Well, awe…and a healthy fear of goats.

Like many other faith communities around the world this week, we are participating in a blessing of the animals. Many of the members of our human and non-human family may well remember with fondness that favorite of the Christian Saints: St. Francis whose life was remembered this past week. Most images of St. Francis we see today have him talking with animals, caring for others, and praying with sincerity, ferocity, and dedication. But like many influential people of faith, Francis knew another life before his life of worship and nature.

In his early life, Francis was a man of wealth and power, seeking his fortune and fame in the crusades. Until one day, setting out for glory, Francis explained later that God spoke to him. And this conversation was really a conversion of sorts. Already a nominal person of faith, he was moved to live a life entirely dependent on his God.

Francis returned to his sumptuous home before ever arriving on the battlefield. And in the sight of all assembled, he removed all of the trappings of his wealth, privilege, and prestige. Yup, all he had left on was his undershirt. And he turned on his heel and left what he knew of safety to live in the hills of Assisi solely on what God provided through nature to him. And today, he is recognized not only as the patron saint of animals, but also as the patron saint of ecology.

The way many people think of St. Francis is sort of as an Obi-Wan-Kenobe character, a hermit. They believe he left the company of human animals in favor of his beloved non-human animals. But that is just not true.

He taught about the connection, the interconnection of all the natural world. As we heard in our responsive reading, this relationship was not only of reverence and awe. Brother, Sister—his relationship to the natural world was one of inclusion as a sibling, not seclusion. He recognized and worshiped that he shared his makeup, his very being with the stars, the sun, the moon, and the raging rivers. These were family to him.

And we get that, right? That’s why we’re here. These treasured members of our family, these beloved souls we have adopted into our lives, and those great souls no longer with us, they are more than mere amusements in our lives. We share so much, so much more than we realize with them sometimes. After all we share the same kingdom. And don’t mean a patriarchal interpretation of the idea of a kingdom popular in some religions. I’m talking about biology.

Kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species: these are the ways that biologists sort through different life forms on Earth, with each sequential division having fewer and fewer occupants. As I look around this room, as humans, we not only share the same kingdom with our guests today—the animal kingdom. Remember that if any of our guests have backbones and happen to be mammals, we also share the same phylum and class. Don’t ever let anyone tell you a person is in a class all by themselves. We share our class with every other hairy, lactating, childbearing animal on earth, or in the universe, for that matter.

Being reminded about this, remembering that I am an animal first, forces me to rethink some things. And one of the things that comes up over and over for me, is how painfully separated many humans are from the biological fact that we are animals. In our reading today, May Swenson makes so clear, that packed into our cars, packed into lanes on a highway, and herded into traffic jams, we are as much a migrating herd of animals as her bison are. Even in the ways we think we are so ingenious, so special, so different, we find ways right back to our animal nature. In our own building you don’t have to look farther than our front door and the sign prohibiting animals in the building to see how completely we can disassociate from our animal nature: “ANIMALS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THE CHURCH.” To be fair, it does allow for service animals, so as the minister I do get some joy in the idea that you can only come in if you’re being of service.

Because it might only be through service to nature, to all of our natural surroundings, including one another, that we shall overcome the false belief that humans and animals are so, so different. It might only be through embracing the kinship of all the lives that make up the interconnected web of existence, that we shall overcome the threats to our ecosystem that are products of human self-importance. It might only be through loving more fully, more completely, and more consciously every wonderful, awe-inspiring creature we meet, that we shall overcome the selfishness of wondering who is man’s best friend so that we can be the greatest blessing we can be to all of our friends.

A blessing is only a blessing if it is shared. The blessings that our non-human animal friends are in our lives are blessings that simply could not possibly be repaid in a lifetime. Francis of Assisi knew this. Because as important as his connection to non-human animals might have been, his teachings led to the founding of one of the most passionately beloved spiritual communities for men and women of faith the world has ever seen. Even the current pope selected his name to show his reverence for the way that caring for the entire ecology of all animals is truly the best way to love one another.

As we go forth today with our shared blessing of a life lived in the hope of caring for one another and for all of earth’s creations, perhaps we will not need to be struck like a charging goat to begin to break down those divisions, those enclosures, those fences in our paths between humans and animals, between us and them. For Friar Francis, who beheld the face of a loving God, nothing short of changing forever the way humans love one another and how they love all of the gifts the world offers would do.

Love without boundaries of us and them.

Love without concern for yesterday or tomorrow.

Love that looks into your soul like you are the only soul to be seen.

Unconditional love.

For so many, that is the love we know from our friends with us today. Our cats, our dogs, our birds, our oxen and all of the awe inspiring, love giving friends we have…even our goats…wait in the expectant hope that we together might worry less about who is man’s best friend and learn how it is that we might become nature’s best friend.

And may it ever be so. Blessed be and Amen.