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 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
September 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
Blessed are those who endure in peace
For by You, Most High, shall they be crowned.
Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no one living can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin.
Blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will,
For the second death shall do them no harm.
Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.
Thus ends the beautiful poem/hymn that St. Francis of Assisi composed shortly before he died. His journey to eternity through the experiences of his life was adventuresome. The personality of Francis did not allow half measures. It was all or nothing. He partied well and spent his father’s money lavishly. He prayed intensely, ultimately being so conformed to the Object of his Love and prayers as to bear visibly the signs of a Love beyond all love, beyond all imagining.
Yet, here we are, at the end of his beautiful hymn praising God and His creation, and we see words like “death”, “mortal sin”, “second death”. The depth of meaning and true spiritual beauty in this last part of the Canticle is not recognized at first. When taken in the context of the whole Canticle praising God for His goodness and attributes in various areas of creation, the “godliness” St. Francis indirectly implied helps one to enter the heart of Francis. His was sadness for those who as yet have not realized the joy, peace, love that they have deprived themselves.
The closing words of St. Francis of Assisi’s Canticle of the Creatures present a profound theology of human existence: the human person is called to endure suffering peacefully, to confront mortality without despair, to live according to the will of God, and ultimately to praise the Creator in humility. The lines, Blessed are those who endure in peace, By You Most High, they will be crowned, followed by the praise of Sister Bodily Death, should not be understood simply as a meditation on dying. Rather, they articulate a distinctly Christian vision in which suffering, death, moral responsibility, and praise are gathered into one spiritual drama. Francis transforms experiences that ordinarily provoke fear – conflict, suffering, and death – into opportunities for communion with God.
The first significant idea is the blessing of those who endure in peace. Peace in Franciscan spirituality is not merely the absence of external conflict. It is an interior disposition grounded in trust in God. To endure does not mean passively accepting injustice or refusing to acknowledge suffering. Endurance signifies the spiritual capacity to remain oriented toward the good even when circumstances are painful, uncertain, or apparently unjust. Francis understands peace as something received, a “gift”, by You Most High. Authentic peace is ultimately theological rather than psychological. It does not depend entirely upon human control over circumstances. It arises from confidence that just being alive – existence – possesses a meaning beyond immediate suffering.
The promise that such persons will be crowned urges us to reflect upon the fulfillment of creation when there will be a new heaven and a new earth. Human suffering is placed within the horizon of eternity. The crown symbolizes fulfillment, victory, and participation in divine life. The Christian understanding of endurance differs fundamentally from accepting what you cannot change. Stoicism, as it is called, can emphasize self-mastery and independence from external circumstances, but Franciscan spirituality emphasizes dependence upon God. The person does not conquer suffering through sheer strength but discovers, through grace, how suffering can become a place of fidelity. The crown is consequently not a prize earned through human perfection but the completion of God’s “gift” of a life ordered toward God.
This theological movement prepares for the remarkable phrase, Praised be You, my Lord through Sister Bodily Death. Francis does something intellectually and spiritually radical by calling bodily death Sister. Death is normally imagined as an enemy, an interruption, or the negation of life. Francis does not deny its terror; rather, he places death as another piece of the puzzle of creation. It is part of the vocabulary of creation. If the sun, moon, water, fire, earth, and animals can be understood as brothers and sisters because they belong to the one Creator, then even death can be addressed within the framework of relationship.
Calling death Sister does not mean that death is necessarily good. Christianity maintains a distinction between creation as willed by God and death as an expression of humanity’s fallen condition. Yet Francis refuses to allow death to have the final word. Why, because the Creator is greater than death. Death itself can be incorporated into the mystery of divine providence. The phrase therefore expresses neither romanticism about dying nor indifference toward life. Instead, it represents a profound act of theological reorientation: Francis places death inside the larger reality of God.
The statement that death is from whom no-one living can escape introduces a great truth. Mortality is one of the fundamental conditions of human existence. Regardless of wealth, social status, intellectual achievement, or physical strength, every human being eventually encounters bodily death. Francis therefore confronts the illusion of human total control in all aspects and times of life. The question is about autonomy. Death exposes the limits of possession and control. What a person owns cannot ultimately be taken beyond mortality. What matters is the manner in which one has lived before God.
This insight gives particular significance to the warning, Woe to those who die in mortal sin! Francis immediately distinguishes between two ways of encountering death. The issue is not simply whether one dies, because everyone dies. The deeper question concerns the moral and spiritual condition in which one encounters death. Death reveals the orientation of the human person. A life fundamentally turned away from God cannot be reconciled with the vision of divine communion expressed throughout the Canticle. How sad for one to live in a state that deprives them of the serenity and joy of a deep relationship with Life Himself. Here we understand more the words: Woe to those who die in mortal sin. How sad! How unfortunate! These persons have deprived themselves, until they receive the grace of full forgiveness, of the joy of literally feeling the closeness of the soul with God. Such an intimacy can never be explained or even described completely. It can only be lived. It envelops the person with an inexplicable Presence. Francis’ “woe” is a sadly felt lament for those who failed to recognize the joy just within their reach. He prays they will hear and understand the joy just within reach. This joy would be a sign of the joy that is within the reach of every person.
The phrase Blessed are they whom Death will find in Your Will provides the positive counterpart. The blessed person is not described primarily as intellectually accomplished, materially successful, or socially powerful. The criterion is fidelity to divine will. This is central to Franciscan spirituality. The human person finds freedom not through absolute self-determination but through loving union with God. To do God’s will is to discover one’s proper relationship to the Creator, creation, other people, and oneself.
So it follows that No second death can do them harm, and the phrase deepens this distinction. Physical death is universal, but spiritual death is not inevitable. The language recalls the Christian conviction that separation from God is more serious than biological mortality. A person who dies physically while remaining oriented toward God does not experience death as ultimate destruction. The resurrection of Christ transforms the meaning of death: what appears to be an ending can become passage into fuller life.
St. Francis concludes not with fear but with praise: Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks, and serve Him with great humility. These last words summarize the entire spiritual logic of the Canticle. Praise, thanksgiving, service, and humility are inseparable. The proper response to life in this world is not domination but gratitude. The world is not merely an object available for human use, or worse, exploitation; it is a gift received from the Creator. Likewise, human life is not self-generated possession but a gift whose ultimate meaning lies in relationship with God.
We see then why humility is especially important. Francis does not conclude by claiming that human beings have mastered the mystery of life. Instead, they are called to serve. Humility recognizes both human dignity and human limitation. The human person is valuable because he or she is loved and created by God, yet is not God. Such humility liberates the individual from the illusion that everything must be controlled, possessed, or understood.
Taken together, these verses form a logical and consistent spiritual understanding that the human being is a mortal creature who nevertheless possesses an eternal vocation. Suffering tests fidelity; peace expresses trust; death reveals human dependence; moral action expresses orientation toward God; and humility becomes the appropriate response to the mystery of creation. Francis does not escape the realities of suffering and death by denying them. He transforms their meaning through faith.
The deepest message of the last words of the Canticle is therefore that Christian hope does not consist in avoiding mortality but in learning how to live faithfully within mortality. To endure in peace, to accept Sister Bodily Death, to reject mortal sin, to do God’s Will, and to serve with humility are dimensions of a single spiritual vocation. Francis ultimately teaches that the meaning of life is not found in conquering death but in living so completely in relationship with God that death itself cannot destroy that relationship. The final word is consequently praise: not because suffering and death are insignificant, but because neither possesses the power to overcome the love and life of the Creator.
Surrendering life to the Creator opens the heart view to a panorama of light, beauty, love, grace that otherwise would be in the cloudy oblivion of uncertainty and fear. Every prayer of trust is a little surrender. Every time we place another person’s needs before our own, we are learning the freedom of love. In this sense, Francis’s final words in the Canticle are a meditation not on death but really a meditation on discipleship. And that carries a promise that: No second death can do them harm, pointing beyond physical death toward the deeper spiritual reality of eternal life.
This is where the entire Canticle reaches its climax. Francis has been praising creation, but creation itself is not God. Everything points beyond itself. Creation is a sign. The created world teaches us gratitude, humility, dependence, wonder, and praise. But ultimately all created things are passing. The sun rises and sets. Flowers bloom and wither. Seasons change. Our bodies grow old. Relationships change. Life moves toward death. And still God remains.
Therefore, the final lesson of the Canticle is not simply to appreciate creation. It is to pass through creation toward the Creator. Francis’s vision is profoundly incarnational. He does not despise the material world. He loves it because it reveals God’s generosity. Yet he never confuses the gift with the Giver. This is perhaps why the last words are so simple: Praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks, and serve Him with great humility.
For the beginning and the end of everything is God. And in God, even death cannot have the final word. Amen.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
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