Brother Fire

Author's Note:  Several years ago, I was asked by the Sisters of St. Francis of the Holy Cross, whose Motherhouse is in Bay Settlement on the eastern side of the Green Bay, to offer reflections on the Canticle of the Creatures by St. Francis.  I shared the reflections during an evening gathering that the good sisters call "Silence and Sunset".  After a recent call from the community for a copy of the talk, I decided that I would post them as a series in Embers over the next few weeks.  I highly encourage you to read St Francis' poem as a foundation, and consider these 'companion pieces' to help you reflect more deeply on what the good Saint has to tell us.    

Brother Fire

“The Lord proceeded them, in the day time by means of a column of cloud to show them the way, and at night by means of a column of fire, to give them light.” Exodus 13:21

Thirty plus years ago, when my wife and I were ready to build our home on 5 acres of land we had purchased west of Green Bay, we had a need list and a wish list.  Because our budget was tight, much of our wish list was eventually crossed out.  One wish that we were able to keep on the list was a wood-burning fireplace.  I know they can be messy; I know that they aren’t all that energy efficient.  But there is something compelling about having an honest wood fire in the hearth, especially on a cold winter night or a damp chilly day.  The flames, the crackle, and the occasional spray of sparks warms the heart as well as the home.

Fire, in flame and ember, reflects in a way the two natures of Christ.  The flame is the most visible as it flickers and dances.  In constant motion the flame is complex in blues and yellows that seem alive.  The embers are the deeper self.  They glow in reds that source the flames their heat and essence.  The flames catch the eye, but it is the embers that invite you into deep and deepening thought.

My father and I were not close – exactly why I am still not sure.  But the closest we came to each other was sitting near the campfire on summer nights.  The conversation always slowed down as the flames dwindled.  By the time the fire was just embers the conversation was hushed.  We gazed.  We sat quietly, and in peace in each other’s company.

Fire, calls us to contemplation.  Fire calls us to mission.  Acts 2:3: “Then there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and came to rest on each of them, and they were all filled with the Holy Spirit.”  

When St. Patrick had been sent on his mission to Ireland, he is said to have climbed a mountain – known now as Crough Patrick, where he had fasted and prayed for 40 days.  When he was ready to signal that the Kingdom of God was at hand to the Celts, he lit the Holy Fire, the Paschal Fire on Easter Vigil on the Hill of Slane.  The druids who were gathered on the next ridge over to light their own fire to the spring equinox saw to their surprise that the new, larger and more pure flame of faith in Christ Jesus was already burning.  I have been blessed to visit there and I wrote this poem:  

Fire on Slane

I lit the holy fire on the Hill of Slane; and placed the Cross against the sun. 

I came not to conquer land for gain; nor this people as so many have done.

I prayed, I preached, I healed, I baptized; this whole land I trod.

I became the holy fire on the Hill of Slane,

So, all could see not me, but through me, to the loving face of God.

Now Christ looks to you to be his holy fire.

Be bold in faith, loving of heart, Christ’s face through yours to show all your years.

For it is God’s tender loving touch I wish all to know; they have already felt his tears.      

 

His Peace <><

Deacon Dan    

Photo by Hayden Scott on Unsplash