Tag: god

A Canticle of God’s Love

(Based on Auxiliary Bishop Roy Campbell Jr writings)

Let us sing of God, O people, for God is within us, And God’s name, Dei, is a light for all the world.

We praise you, O God of Diversity, For you called forth a people from every nation, An assembly of nations from Jacob’s loins. You are the one who makes us fruitful and multiplies our grace, Bringing together a rich tapestry of life and tongues, That we might know your face in every face.

We give thanks to you, O God of Equity, For your works are true and just and reliable are your decrees. You sent forth your Son, and his example is our way, To share what we have and not to hoard, That your truth and your justice may be applied with love to all, For your law is written on our hearts.

We worship you, O God of Inclusion, For you read your law to every single soul: To the elders, the women, the children, and the resident aliens among us. You call us to live your law as one, a single flock, a single people, To know that the love we have for one another Is how the world will know we are your own.

For the dignity of every human being is your will, O God.
You work among us and through us,
To make us fruitful and to bring us all home to you.

Glory to God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
The source of all diversity, equity, and inclusion,
Now and forever.

Amen

For many, the idea of a vow of obedience seems outdated, perhaps even restrictive. How can a Secular Franciscan, living in the world, embrace a concept that seems to run counter to our culture’s values of personal freedom?

The Franciscan View of Obedience

When we talk about obedience in the Franciscan context, we’re not talking about blind submission to an authority figure. We’re talking about a radical act of love and surrender, modeled on Jesus Christ himself. As Secular Franciscans, we don’t take a vow of obedience to a superior in the same way as our friar or sister counterparts. Instead, our obedience is directed toward God, the Church, and our Rule of Life.

Let’s look at Philippians 2:5-13, a passage foundational to our understanding of this topic: “Have among yourselves the same attitude of mind that is also yours in Christ Jesus…he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” This is the core of Franciscan obedience: a willingness to “empty oneself” for the sake of love, following the example of Christ’s ultimate act of humility.

For St. Francis, obedience was not about giving up his will to a person, but about aligning his will with God’s. He saw obedience as the path to true freedom, a way to shed the chains of his own ego and desires. In fact, he warned against the pride of those who would only obey “when they will and what they will.”

How this Applies to Secular Franciscans

As Secular Franciscans, our life of obedience is practical and lived out in our daily circumstances. Our Essential Documents of the Secular Franciscan Order guide us here, but it’s not a list of rigid rules. Instead, it’s a call to a certain way of life.

Our obedience is expressed in several key ways:

• Obedience to the Gospel: This is our primary call. We commit to living the Gospel in our secular state, which means we strive to live as Jesus did—in humility, poverty, and love. This requires an ongoing conversion of heart, a daily “yes” to God’s will.
• Obedience to the Church: We are called to be in full communion with the Church and to be obedient to its teachings. This is a sign of our love for the Body of Christ and a recognition that we are not lone spiritual agents, but part of a larger community.
• Obedience to the Rule and Fraternity: We promise to live according to our Rule and Constitutions. This includes actively participating in the life of our fraternity, which helps us to grow in community and to put aside our own will for the good of the group.

In this light, a vow of obedience isn’t about giving up your will to another person. It’s about a daily commitment to follow Christ, to live the Gospel, and to walk in the footsteps of St. Francis, trusting that this path leads to genuine freedom and joy. The freedom of the Christian is not in doing whatever one wants, but in doing what God wants. And in that, there is true peace.

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Psalm 1:

“Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in company with scoffers.

Rather, the law of the Lord is his joy; and on his law he meditates day and night.

He is like a tree planted near streams of water, that yields its fruit in season; its leaves never wither; whatever he does prospers.

But not so are the wicked, not so! They are like chaff driven by the wind.

Therefore the wicked will not arise at the judgment, nor will sinners in the assembly of the just.

Because the Lord knows the way of the just, but the way of the wicked leads to ruin.”

A Franciscan and Ruttenberg-Inspired Reflection on Psalm 1: Finding Roots in a Time of Fear

Verse 1: Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor sit in company with scoffers.
As a Franciscan, I hear Brother Francis whispering through these words: step away from the noise of power and pride.^1 Today, in the U.S., fear grips us—fear of the other, fear of losing what we know, fear stoked by voices shouting division on screens and streets. The “wicked” aren’t just cartoonish evildoers; they’re the systems of greed, the policies that widen gaps, the cynicism that mocks hope.^2 Rabbi Ruttenberg might call this the unrepentant path—refusing to repair harm, whether to immigrants at our borders or the earth groaning under neglect.^3 Blessedness, for us, is choosing a different way: walking with the lepers of our time, the disenfranchised, the afraid, refusing to sit with those who scoff at compassion.

Verse 2: Rather, the law of the Lord is his joy; and on his law he meditates day and night.
Francis found joy in Sister Poverty and Brother Sun, seeing God’s law etched in creation and the Gospel’s call to love.^4 For Rabbi Ruttenberg, Torah isn’t static—it’s a sacred text we wrestle with, a guide to nurture the wow of life even when fear looms.^5 In this trembling moment—elections tearing us apart, climate disasters looming, rights under threat—meditating on God’s law means more than quiet prayer.^6 It’s active, like Francis rebuilding the Church stone by stone, or Ruttenberg urging us to repair what’s broken. We turn to love, justice, and mercy, day and night, to steady our shaking hands and hearts against the chaos.

Verse 3: He is like a tree planted near streams of water, that yields its fruit in season; its leaves never wither; whatever he does prospers.
Oh, how Francis would dance to this! A tree by the water—rooted in God’s grace, mirroring the Canticle’s praise for creation’s harmony.^7 Ruttenberg might see this as the fruit of ethical living, yielding repair in a fractured world.^8 But today, we feel uprooted—floods and fires threaten our homes, economic instability withers dreams, and fear whispers that nothing will prosper.^9 Yet, as Franciscans, we plant ourselves by the streams of solidarity: with the poor, the earth, each other. As Ruttenberg teaches, we nurture resilience, bearing fruit not for ourselves but for a hungry nation. Our leaves—our hope—won’t wither if we stay connected to the Source.

Verses 4-5: But not so are the wicked, not so! They are like chaff driven by the wind. Therefore the wicked will not arise at the judgment, nor will sinners in the assembly of the just.
Francis wept for sin’s emptiness, not to condemn but to call back.^10 The “wicked” here are like chaff—rootless, blown by fear’s gusts: the profiteers of division, the deniers of truth, the ones who’d rather burn bridges than build them.^11 Ruttenberg’s lens sharpens this: those who refuse repair drift away, unmoored from community.^12 In our fear—gun violence spiking, democracy wobbling, hate rising—we see this wind tearing at us. But judgment isn’t ours to wield; it’s God’s, and we pray, as Francis did, for conversion over collapse, trusting the just will stand together when the storm passes.

Verse 6: Because the Lord knows the way of the just, but the way of the wicked leads to ruin.
God knows us—intimately, as Francis knew the sparrows and the wolf.^13 Rabbi Ruttenberg might say God’s knowing is an invitation to align with Torah’s justice, to repair our way out of ruin.^14 Fear tells us ruin is near—cultural decay, ecological tipping points, a nation unraveling.^15 But the Franciscan heart clings to trust: God walks with the just, the peacemakers, the ones planting seeds in scorched soil. The wicked’s ruin isn’t our glee—it’s a warning to turn back, to choose life, to mend what fear has torn.

Tying It Together: A Prayer for Today
In this America of 2025, Psalm 1 is our lifeline.^16 As Franciscans, we stand with Francis, barefoot on the earth, refusing fear’s counsel—greed, hate, despair—and rooting ourselves in God’s law of love.^17 With Rabbi Ruttenberg’s wisdom, we see Torah and Gospel as tools to repair, to nurture, to flourish like trees even now.^18 Our fear—of loss, of violence, of an uncertain tomorrow—becomes a call: to meditate on what heals, to bear fruit for the weary, to trust God knows our trembling way. Together, we rebuild, not with walls but with bridges, singing peace to a frightened land.

Footnotes

1. Regis J. Armstrong, et al., Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (New York: New City Press, 1999) – Historical accounts of St. Francis’ life, informing the Franciscan lens on simplicity and solidarity.
2. Psalm 1:1, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – The scriptural text quoted, from the official Catholic translation.
3. Danya Ruttenberg, On Repentance and Repair: Making Amends in an Unapologetic World (Boston: Beacon Press, 2022) – Ruttenberg’s work on ethical repair, applied to the wicked as unrepentant.
4. Francis of Assisi, The Canticle of the Creatures, ca. 1225 – St. Francis’ praise of creation, resonating with God’s law in nature.
5. Danya Ruttenberg, Nurture the Wow: Finding Spirituality in the Frustration, Boredom, Tears, Poop, Desperation, Wonder, and Radical Amazement of Parenting (New York: Flatiron Books, 2016) – Her reflections on Torah as a nurturing guide.
6. Psalm 1:2, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – Specific verse cited for meditation on God’s law.
7. Francis of Assisi, The Canticle of the Creatures, ca. 1225 – Cited for its harmony with the tree imagery.
8. Danya Ruttenberg, On Repentance and Repair (Boston: Beacon Press, 2022) – Ethical living yielding repair, tied to the tree’s fruit.
9. Psalm 1:3, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – Specific verse for the tree imagery.
10. Bonaventure, The Life of St. Francis (1263) – Biography highlighting Francis’ compassion and approach to sin.
11. Psalm 1:4-5, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – Verses cited for the chaff and judgment imagery.
12. Danya Ruttenberg, On Repentance and Repair (Boston: Beacon Press, 2022) – Those who refuse repair drift away, sharpening the chaff metaphor.
13. Francis of Assisi, The Little Flowers of St. Francis, ca. 14th century – Stories of Francis’ intimacy with creation (e.g., sparrows, wolf).
14. Danya Ruttenberg, Life is a Sacred Text, Substack, ongoing – Her writings on aligning with Torah’s justice and repair.
15. Psalm 1:6, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – Verse cited for God’s knowing and the wicked’s ruin.
16. Psalm 1, New American Bible Revised Edition (NABRE) (Washington, DC: USCCB, 2011) – Full psalm as the reflection’s lifeline.
17. Regis J. Armstrong, et al., Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (New York: New City Press, 1999) – Francis’ barefoot simplicity and love as a model.
18. Danya Ruttenberg, On Repentance and Repair (Boston: Beacon Press, 2022) – Torah and Gospel as tools for repair and flourishing.