St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 email: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
September, 2025
Brothers and Sisters in St. Francis,
May the Lord grant us all the gift of His peace.
We are quickly approaching the end of the jubilee year of the Canticle of the Creatures. The fifth Franciscan jubilee completes the journey of St. Francis from Discovery to Fulfillment and Glory. We will celebrate the Paschal Mystery of our Seraphic Father. In St. Francis it is the celebration of life’s fulfillment to be nothing else than conformed to Christ in His Passion and Death, crucified in, with, for Love, so to be conformed with Christ in His Resurrection and Glory
St. Francis sang his Love in the Canticle of Brother Sun not as he saw God in all creatures but as he saw all creation in God. His song was a simply expressed but mystically experienced of his proximate return to the source of all being, God! The fulfillment of a life lived in Christ for God totally giving himself for others. The sentiments expressed came from the depth of his heart so enamored of God that he saw God in every aspects of Creation. He had encountered the God of Creation and saw all things, time itself, in the Creator calling him home.
He composed this beautiful hymn of praise, Laudato Si!, as he lay awaiting Sister Bodily Death from whom no one can escape. This testament to the saint’s spiritual clarity and his unwavering commitment to humility, peace, and divine love can be felt so profoundly in the last part of the Canticle. The last stanzas that address forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise, are filled with a depth of faith and feeling. These words, the Canticle itself, speak volumes.
Francis’s invocation of forgiveness is not a casual mention but a deliberate and sacred act of spiritual elevation. In the stanza, “Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation,” Francis links the act of forgiveness directly to divine love. Forgiveness is not framed as a moral obligation or a social necessity but as a sacred participation in God’s own nature. Those who forgive are not merely virtuous—they are blessed. They are the ones who “endure in peace,” and it is by this endurance that they “shall be crowned.” To forgive is to align oneself with the eternal will of God, to participate in the God’s life of grace.
Francis’s emphasis on bearing infirmity and tribulation alongside forgiveness suggests that true pardon is not born of ease but of suffering. It is in the crucible of pain that the soul is refined, and it is through this refinement that one becomes capable of divine love. This stanza is a spiritual mirror of Francis’s own life, marked by illness, rejection, and hardship, yet filled with joy and peace. Forgiveness, in this context, is not weakness but strength. It is the crown of the soul that has chosen love over vengeance, peace over resentment.
The stanza on Sister Death is perhaps the most startling and countercultural element of the canticle. “Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no one living can escape.” Here, Francis does not fear death, nor does he curse it. He embraces it as a sister, a companion on the journey of life. Francis is not romanticizing mortality, but affirming that death has its place in the divine order. Death is not the enemy; it is the threshold. Francis’s calls death “Sister”. In a world that often views death with terror and denial, Francis offers intimacy and reverence.
He warns, however, that “woe to those who die in mortal sin,” and suggests that death is not neutral. It unveils the soul’s true state and ushers it into the presence of God. But for those “whom death will find in Your most holy will,” there is no harm. The “second death,” a reference to eternal separation from God, shall not touch them. It reflects Francis’s deep trust in divine mercy and his acceptance of life’s final passage. His own death occurred shortly after the canticle’s composition. It was marked by peace and joy, and embodied the words he had written.
By calling the elements “Brother” and “Sister,” Francis dismantles the hierarchy that places humanity above creation. He is centuries ahead of his time. His canticle calls for reverence, humility, and gratitude. In this communion, forgiveness is the glue, death is the gateway, and praise is the song. The canticle is not merely a poem, it is a spiritual map. It guides the soul from the illusion of separation to the truth of unity. It teaches that to live is to praise, to suffer is to forgive, and to die is to be embraced.
The historical context of the canticle adds further depth to its message. Francis wrote it while suffering from a debilitating eye disease, living in a darkened cell, surrounded by physical pain and existential uncertainty. Yet his words are luminous. They do not reflect despair but transcendence. Francis does not deny his suffering; he transforms it. He does not flee from death; he welcomes it. He does not withhold forgiveness; he offers it freely. The canticle is the fruit of a soul that has been purified by fire and has emerged radiant. It is the testament of a man who has seen God not in visions but in the faces of lepers, in the warmth of the sun, in the silence of the moon, and in the final breath of life.
In emphasizing forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise, the canticle brings together the human experience with divine grace. It sanctifies all aspects of life. It invites us to be persons of humility, gratitude, and joy. It challenges the ego and comforts the soul. It is a song of liberation, not from suffering, but through it. It is a hymn of hope, not in avoidance of death, but in its embrace. It is a prayer of love, not in isolation, but in communion.
The “Canticle of the Creatures” speaks across centuries, cultures, and conditions. It is as relevant today as it was in the thirteenth century. In a world marked by division, violence, and ecological crisis, Francis’s vision offers a path of peace, reconciliation, and reverence. It reminds us that forgiveness is divine, that death is sacred, and that praise is our highest calling. It invites us to see the world not as a resource to be exploited but as a family to be cherished. It calls us to live not in fear but in love, not in isolation but in communion, not in silence but in song.
Francis’s canticle is not a relic; it is a revelation. It reveals the heart of a man who saw God in all things and responded with joy. It reveals a theology that is not abstract but embodied, not distant but near. It reveals a spirituality that is not passive but active, not resigned but radiant. It is a canticle not only of creatures but of creation, not only of nature but of grace, not only of life but of love. And in its final lines, it calls us to “praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.” This is the essence of Francis’s vision. This is the invitation of the canticle. This is the song that never ends.
Francis did not cloak his wisdom in theology nor his devotion in flowery language. He spoke in the plain language of the fields and the villages, naming each element as brother or sister and each human act of mercy as supreme worship. In so doing, he modeled a spirituality that is both accessible and profound, rooted in the everyday yet lifting the soul beyond itself. The stanzas on forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise form the canticle’s heart, but they pulse only because the bloodstream of radical poverty, joyful community, and incarnational love courses through them. Each paragraph of his poem invites the reader into a sacramental imagination, to see the sun as a song of God’s light, the water as a vessel of cleansing grace, the wind as a whisper of the Spirit’s breath. And among these chords of nature, forgiveness restores harmony, death becomes transformation, and praise rings out as the soul’s perpetual offering.
To live Francis’s canticle is to recognize that every gust of wind, every sunset, every human encounter bears within it the echo of the Creator’s voice. It is to find in forgiveness not a concession but a crowning virtue, in death not an end but a sacred passage, in praise not an obligation but the soul’s natural song. The Canticle of the Creatures stands as a testimony that the path to God is not necessarily in solitude and theological theorems, but can be found in solidarity with birds and beasts, in the acceptance of our mortality, and in the humble offering of every breath as a blessing. Even now, the melody of the Canticle invites us each to forgive as we are forgiven, to embrace death as a sister who brings us home. We are encouraged to praise with such humility that our gratitude will resound through all creation.
Praise be You, my Lord, for all my sisters and brothers. You have called us to the Gospel Life living in society. Your Spirit empowers us to be Pilgrims of Hope in an often confused world.
God bless all of you. Our Holy Mother and good St. Joseph guide, guard, and protect you. Our Holy parents of Assisi intercede for us all and our loved ones, as we strive to Live Jesus in the spirit of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, OFM Cap
Regional Spiritual Assistant
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