Being neither Catholic in the specific nor religious in the general, I’m surprised to find my farmer’s mind wandering along these paths while watching the sunrise:
It is early Saturday morning and the mists congregate in the holler near our farm. An ancestor might have thought them in quiet conversation before lifting slowly in the predawn light. Perhaps it was an act of praise as the sun approached: all rise and disperse.
Brother Sun … he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendor.
Would our world be different, better, if we had stayed closer to our animist past? Not usually given to speculation on matters theological, I have wondered if Francis of Assisi was moved by that longing when he wrote Canticle of the Sun. The 13th century composition is one of the few pieces of that heritage that celebrates the natural world less for the resources to be exploited than for the connectedness of wind, air, moon, sun, earth, and fire.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars; in the heavens you have made them bright, precious, and beautiful.
One imagines that echoes of the old world were still present in the Italy of his time, relics and practices from before the advent of monotheism. Hints that much of human history had not been built on the concept of man as the pinnacle achievement. Instead, a world in which water or stone was as connected with life as child or hawk.
Be praised, my Lord, through Sister Water; she is very useful, and humble, and precious, and pure.
The power of Assisi’s vision of interconnectedness provides an opportunity for reverence in the use of this world. That an incomprehensible vastness of the universe, springing from a single explosive act, gives us a bond with all that is animate and inanimate. We have traveled far from that sense of belonging.
Be praised, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you brighten the night. He is beautiful and cheerful, and powerful and strong.
What would the world look like if that had been our path? Better, worse? I do know that there is a hint of vanished possibilities in these lines from the old saint. And perhaps a draft for future actions.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Mother Earth, who feeds us and rules us, and produces various fruits and colored flowers and herbs.
An outlook of one connected to the land, to the rhythms of the world, one we disdain from the vantage point of our disconnected lives. We, who even in death, strive to be apart from the world that gave us birth.
Be praised, my Lord, through our sister Bodily Death, from whose embrace no living person can escape.
A knowledge that in spite of the destruction we wield and the damage inflicted to this world that the act of creation continues across a universe indifferent to our poor choices and sense of importance.
And that the next act for this farmer may be as a speck of dust, adrift …
He closes his canticle: With great humility.
you wrote: “Would our world be different, better, if we had stayed closer to our animist past?” I ponder that question from time to time, knowing full well that it’s purely hypothetical owing to our inability to turn back the clock and undo history. However, a lot of social criticism explores our lost animism with a high level of dissatisfaction over the desultory state of the world. Discontent seems to be a normal enough result of awareness of possibilities different from actuality. Return to a humble, grateful position within all of creation (rather than astride it) has its appeal.
“undo history” – certainly not something we could do… but we can change the future. So it is not hypothetical that we might choose to ‘re-imbue’ some spiritual nature to aspects of the world around us. History is not a linear track, and our present actions needn’t force a specific future.
From some of your other writings I sense a fatalist turn. And you have plenty of reason to accept certain evidence as conclusive in shaping what awaits us. But I think there is also sufficient evidence to imagine it not too late for us or for the planet.
“Would our world be different, better, if we had stayed closer to our animist past?” – for me the question can be dissected… would it be different, very likely. Would it be better? To whom?, as measured in what way?
Can our world be better in the future? Can former ways inform a possible improvement? St Francis of Assisi has had an immense impression on at least one of our current travelers – as the pope chose his name. And the pope’s encyclical Laudete Se is full of inspiration imbued with a philosophy of care for environment.
So I do appreciate the way you close your comment:
“Return to a humble, grateful position within all of creation (rather than astride it) has its appeal.” Agreed. There is hope. It becomes incumbent upon us to discern a better path, to explore options, and build a better future. Looking at and considering animism is one idea.
Clem, you bring an awful lot to bear on the question, and I could write an entire book about it. You know from my website that different styles of consciousness are very much at the center of my thinking. Unfortunately, we can’t simply decide to reenter animism or even point ourselves in that direction. It may happen, but not as a guided path. Many writers explore what was lost when we shifted from animism to materialism. This quote of Benjamin Franklin is typical:
The question of “better” inevitable goes back to better for humans, but wizened folks might recognize that we are reliant on everything around us, so even if we position ourselves in the center, we’re hardly alone or independent in the world. So we need to extend our consideration beyond ourselves, which we’re pretty poor at doing.
Clem,
I always appreciate your sunny outlook. And every time I listen to a cantata by Bach I pretend for a while that we aren’t all bad.
Brutus,
The anarchists use to have a line to oppose the bomb throwers in their midst, “you can’t blow-up a social relationship.” The same holds in reverse. We can’t wish into being, as you say, other than what we are as a species. Not to say we can’t try individually. I’m just not betting the bank.
Always good to hear from you. I just wish I had had something clever to say about the nature of irony.