In 2024, the world quietly crossed a threshold we had long hoped to avoid. The global average temperature rose beyond 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels: the symbolic boundary meant to protect life from the worst effects of climate change. It happened without fanfare, but the Earth felt it deeply. Forests burned more fiercely, oceans warmed more rapidly, and the most vulnerable once again bore the greatest weight of our collective neglect.
For Franciscans, this moment cannot be one of despair. It must be a moment of renewed conversion: of turning our gaze once more toward the poor Christ who walks among us, and toward the fragile beauty of the world that mirrors His wounded face. In this year when we celebrate the 800th anniversary of the Canticle of the Creatures and the 10th anniversary of Laudato Si’, we are reminded that creation itself is part of our family. Every creature, every gust of wind, every drop of rain sings its own hymn of praise to the Creator.
But creation is groaning, and her song has become one of lament. The rivers that once danced are now choked with waste. The fields that once nourished life grow weary from misuse. The cry of the Earth and the cry of the poor are one and the same: and they call us not just to care, but to repent. To walk more gently. To live more simply. To speak more boldly.
The journey toward the upcoming UN Climate Conference in Belém, Brazil (COP30) offers us a mirror: what kind of presence will we bring to this global conversation? Will we come as people of fear, or as people of faith? The Franciscan response has always been grounded in hope: not a naïve optimism, but a hope that is courageous, humble, and ready to act. It is the hope that St Francis embodied when he sang praise even to Sister Death, trusting that love ultimately has the final word.
At the heart of this journey is the call to relationship. We cannot heal what we do not love, and we cannot love what we do not see. The work of Franciscans International and our brothers and sisters across the world; whether standing with migrants at the border, coastal communities facing displacement, or Indigenous peoples defending their land; is not only advocacy. It is relationship lived out as Gospel.
To walk the road to COP30 is to walk the way of the Cross and the way of the Canticle, side by side. The Cross shows us the cost of indifference; the Canticle shows us the joy of communion. Between the two lies our vocation — to rebuild what has been broken, to speak peace into a wounded world, and to live with reverence for all that God has made.
May our prayer and our action be one.
May our love be wide enough to include all creation.
And may we, as children of Francis, keep singing; even now; the song of life and praise that renews the Earth.
“Praise be to You, my Lord, through all Your creatures…”
