Blessed Ecology: The Feast of St. Francis, Robin Wall Kimmerer, and the Wholeness of Creation (Sermon 10.19.25)
- highlandspcwy
- Oct 23
- 7 min read
Updated: Oct 30
Two weeks ago, today, I was sitting in the pews of a very different church. The Feast of St. Francis at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine is a New York City icon. Thousands of people come from across all five boroughs and beyond to have their pets blessed in honor of Saint Francis, the patron saint of animals, and to experience all the wild joy of this spectacular event.
At the service’s midpoint, the crowd of nearly 3,000 people fell silent, eagerly awaiting what we’re all here to see—the Procession of the Animals. This is why St. John’s service is so special,
This was also when the dogs in the crowd got really loud… as down the aisle came first a tiny snake and a giant boa—both hitching a ride in the arms of their human companions.
There is some poetic justice that these creatures, who have been so maligned in theology, take pride of place in the procession.
Following the reptiles were the birds—parakeets, owls, and ducks! Then sheep, goats, a calf, a towering draft horse—and one surprisingly small camel.
Once they had all gathered at the front, the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of New York spoke words of blessing over all the animals... and over all the earth.
I was struck by how, in the middle of New York City—this soaring metropolis that so clearly represents the ambition and creativity of humans, this service was not just a celebration of our beloved pets—but a celebration of the whole of Creation!
And it wasn’t just the blessing over these special guests who communicated this message.
The voices of Creation were incorporated throughout the service. During the performances of liturgical dance, this vast stone sanctuary was filled with the music of Blue whales, Arctic wolves, and tropical birds; beautiful but bittersweet songs which reminded us of rising sea levels, melting ice caps, and stripped rainforests. The groans of Creation were clear—but so too was the joy.
The Feast of St. Francis service at St. John the Divine is in equal parts a celebration of the innumerable joys and gifts of God’s Creatures, and a prophetic reminder of our urgent responsibilities to care for this world.
The whole experience reminded me of the words of the Potawatami botanist Robin Wall Kimmerer. She writes,
“Even a wounded world feeds us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair. Not because I have my head in the sand, but because joy is what the earth gives me daily and I must return the gift.”
I think Kimmerer and St. Francis would have gotten along.
Centuries before modern science spoke of ecosystems and interdependence, St. Francis already knew what Indigenous wisdom keepers like Robin Wall Kimmerer remind us today: all life is connected. Francis saw himself not as master over nature—one of the great lies of Western Christianity—but as part of an ecosystem.
Part of the earth.
Part of the whole of Creation.
He understood that our lives are bound up with the lives of trees and rivers, animals and air. That each of us has a part to play in the healing and wholeness of God’s Creation. This includes human communities that were wounded by war and greed. For each of us, humans are part of that whole.
This is why Francis is today regarded as not just the patron saint of animals, but also ecology—the scientific study of nature’s relationships.
A story I love about Francis was that he was known to have addressed the sun, moon, and every creature as “brother” and “sister.” Many of us consider our pets members of our own family—but how often do we regard the sun and the moon, worms and squirrels, pine trees and sagebrush—as our siblings? As family members with whom we share God’s good creation?
This 12th-century monk came to understand that peace and justice are not just God’s hope for humanity, but God’s plan for the whole of Creation. And it was this faith in God which transformed his life—inspiring him to leave military service and renounce his family’s wealth, to devote himself to a humble life of service.
He cared for the poor. He tended the sick. And he preached a radical message—that all creatures, human and otherwise, are equal in the eyes of God. It was said that Francis even preached directly to the birds!
I like to imagine that it was stories like Jesus’ parable of the mustard seed that nourished Francis’s reverence for the natural world, awakened his eye to ecology, and attuned his mind to the miracles found in the small and ordinary things of this world.
This Parable of the Mustard Seed is one of Jesus' shortest. And like all parables, at times we can domesticate its provocative message.
Biblical scholar Amy-Jill Levine is always a good partners to resist these domesticating urges. In her book, Short Stories by Jesus, she points out that the Parable of the Mustard Seed isn’t a sweet story about personal growth and humble beginnings as it is so often preached. Rather, it’s a story about wild, untamable growth.
In the ancient world, mustard was a weed—wild, unruly, impossible to control. So when Jesus compares God’s kingdom to a mustard seed, he is conjuring an unusual image in the mind of his listeners. He’s describing something that spreads where it’s not supposed to—something that resists containment, or respectability.
How might this help us to see this kingdom Jesus describes as something that is not neat or domesticated—like a manicured garden—but wild and ecological.
The mustard shrub grows because someone planted its tiny seed. But it also had to receive nourishment from the soil, sun, and rain. And it did! And so it grew… tall enough and wide enough for the birds to nest in its branches.
This small story powerfully portrays the Kingdom of God as a living network where God, humans, plants, and animals all share in the work of renewal. The Kingdom of God, then, is not built from the top down—it’s grown from the ground up, through the wild cooperation of all Creation. It’s a partnership, a holy ecosystem where every living thing belongs by the power of God’s grace.
This is the God who breathes life into this delightfully complex, awe-inspiring, majestic tapestry that we call the world.
A world that makes room for buffalo and butterflies.
For coneflower and chickadees.
For dogs and dandelions.
And for us too— all woven together by the same loving breath.
St. Francis’ legacy calls us to live with that same reverence, compassion, and care for every part of Creation—for every animal and every person, every watershed, seed, and patch of soil.
And that is the very call we at Highlands are answering through our Earth Care Ministry.
Earth Care Congregations within the Presbyterian Church (USA) are responding to God's call to act as careful and humble stewards of the earth. And to protect and restore it for its own sake, and for the future use and enjoyment of the human family.
Earth Care Congregations commit to action in these areas:
Education: We seek to understand the threats to creation and support one another in faithful stewardship.
Facilities: We will care for our buildings and grounds with respect for all creation—using energy wisely, conserving resources, and ensuring sustainability for future generations.
Outreach: We will advocate for environmental justice and community action that protects both the earth and its most vulnerable people.
Worship: We celebrate God’s grace in creation and affirm our call to cherish, protect, and restore the earth.
Highlands first took the Earth Care pledge back in 2017.
Since then, we have put our faith into action through:
Committing to reduce, reuse, and recycle whenever possible.
Using reusable cups, plates, and utensils in fellowship.
Planting a pollinator garden and new trees on our south lawn.
Regularly seeking opportunities to increase the water and energy efficiency in our buildings. We had an energy audit this spring and confirmed that we are doing well!
Limiting the use of pesticides on our grounds, following guidelines set by the University of Wyoming.
There are probably more things I don’t even know about… Does anyone want to celebrate something else?
And this past spring, at our annual Earth Day service, Highlands celebrated our recertification as an Earth Care congregation. This is evidence that we have, and we continue to put our faith into action!
And right now, our Earth Care team is in the process of starting some new exciting projects.
This month, they will break ground on a new pollinator garden!
We are cooking up ways we might better tend to one another's needs—through a chore swap, library, resource board… We're not sure yet, but it will be something!
And we are also discerning if we might be called to partner with our neighbors to revitalize our retired community garden.
The most exciting update to me from our Earth Care team has been the recent discovery, or possibly rediscovery, of some very cool native plants growing on our land.
Recently, our Earth Care team welcomed some local plant experts for a walk on our land.
These were the same folks who transformed the library’s rainwater detention pond from a lawn to a large rain garden planted with regionally native forbs, grasses, and shrubs. If you’ve seen that garden, you know how it now bursts with life!
During their visit, we learned that the southwest part of our lawn, the area by our sign, is some of the most intact native prairie these experts have ever come across in town.
Now there is some desire to make that space look a little beautiful from the road, and to make our community look as inviting from the outside as we are on the inside—and Earth Care is working on some plans for how to do that. Lynea has already planted some native yucca that will hopefully make it through the winter!
But I also urge all of us to go down and visit those plants. They may look super small, humble, even unimpressive, but I wonder if we might learn to see them through God’s own loving eyes?
What if we greeted them as neighbors? As siblings?
As fellow members of God’s groaning, growing Creation, who, by some miracle, have persisted in a patch of dirt we too often overlook?
What if we learned to treasure them?
To nurture the soil so that they not only survive, but flourish.
To care for them, as Christ taught us to care for the least of these.
The Parable of the Mustard Seed shows us that God’s Kingdom grows in relationships. And not just in relationships between humans, but in ecological relationships between animals, plants, and place. As this community knows, God’s mission for the world is peace and right relationships for the whole of the Earth. God seeks the wholeness of all Creation.
This is how we are invited to partner with God: to join in that holy work of tending to, protecting, and renewing the wounded Earth. Each reusable cup used, each pollinator garden planted, each prayer given for the planet—these are seeds of peace taking root right here among us.
Let us tend this holy ground together. Amen.
Sermon preached by Rev. Delaney Piper on 10/19/25.


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