Donkeys and Dogs

Learning to read the two books that God has written

07/09/2023

Mt 11:25-30 At that time Jesus exclaimed: "I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to little ones. Yes, Father, such has been your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father. No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son wishes to reveal him." "Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for yourselves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light."

Last week someone sent me a cartoon of Denis the Menace. The single-square scene showed Denis walking out of church on Sunday morning, holding his mother’s hand, and his father walking along behind them. As Denis walked by, the minister was greeting people at the doors after Sunday services. Denis looked up at him and remarked: “For a preacher…you sure know a lot about sin!”

Evidently, the sermon that Sunday was on sin and little Denis was shocked a preacher would know so much about sin. Denis’ observation was a really brilliant one – and a funny one – because he was suggesting the preacher knew about sin not just from reading books like the Bible, but also from personal experience. That is, we are all sinners, even Protestant preachers, and even us Catholic priests. That was Denis’ real point: we all know a lot about sin, especially Denis himself.

Now, the hard part is admitting we are sinners. We like to believe we are saints rather than sinners. Archbishop Fulton Sheen once quipped: “It used to be that only Catholics believed in the Immaculate Conception. Now everyone thinks he is immaculately conceived!” And sometimes it takes a little child, like Denis the Menace, to point out our sinfulness. Do you remember how it was a small boy who pointed out to the townsfolk, “The emperor has no clothes!” in Hans Christian Andersen’s famous folktale? To the innocent eyes of small children, the nakedness of our sins is hard to miss.

In the gospel today, Jesus notices how perceptive these “little ones” can be about sin and salvation. Our Lord exclaims: “I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, you have revealed them to little ones.” Now, clearly one group Jesus has in mind when he refers to “little ones” is undoubtedly small children, like Denis the Menace and the little boy from Hans Christian Andersen’s tale.

But I believe there is another group of “little ones,” namely, Nature, the animals, trees, rocks, and sun and sky. We find some proof for this in the first reading from Zechariah, who prophesies: “See, your king shall come to you, a just savior is he, meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass.” In other words, the “little ones” like a little donkey, intuitively get who the Messiah is because they are innocent of sin; their apprehension of reality is unclouded. When Jesus rode triumphantly into Jerusalem on a donkey (fulfilling Zechariah's prophesy), the Pharisees told him to tell his disciples to be quiet. But Jesus replied: “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out” (Lk 19:40). Peter, the prince of the apostles, would deny his Lord three times, but a donkey did not deny Jesus even once.

Back in the fifth century, St. Augustine developed the idea that God had written two books. The first book was Sacred Scripture, and the second was the Book of Nature. Fr. John has written three books, but God has written only two. In other words, God reveals himself not only through the Bible, but also through his creation and his creatures. St. Paul wrote about this to the Romans: “[God’s] invisible attributes of eternal power and divinity have been able to be understood and perceived in what he has made” (Rm 1:20). We see the invisible Creator in his visible creation.

I am beginning to learn about this Book of Nature through my dog, Apollo. His needs are simple and straight-forward. He only barks when he wants to play, or pee, or poop. Otherwise, he is completely content; he’s a pretty uncomplicated guy. That is, there is an honesty and authenticity in his dog nature that sadly sin has corrupted in me and you, the “wise and learned.” People read the Book of Nature in loving and understanding their pets. We see the hand of the Creator through his creation.

Let me share a quotation from Pope Francis, where he noticed how St. Francis also assiduously studied the Book of Nature. The Holy Father wrote: “Saint Francis, faithful to Scriptures, invites us to see nature as a magnificent book in which God speaks to us and grants us a glimpse of his beauty and goodness.” Did you catch that? Francis, like Augustine, noticed how God had written two books, not one.

The pope continues (and this is my favorite part): “For this reason Francis asked that part of the friary garden always be left untouched, so that wild flowers and herbs could grow there, and those who saw them could raise their minds to God, the Creator of such beauty.” And then the pope concludes with his take-home message: “Rather than a problem to be solved, the world is a joyful mystery to be contemplated with gladness and praise” (Laudato Si, 12). Nature is not a problem we have to solve, on the contrary, the natural order (natural law) presents the solutions to virtually all our manmade problems. We are the problem, and nature is the solution.

My friends, what kinds of books are you diving into this summer? A history, or romance, a mystery, or a beach book? But could I suggest another book for this summer? Instead of books we had to chop down beautiful green trees to make paper for, crack open the Book of Nature, and listen to God’s little ones, the donkeys, the dogs, the birds, the trees, and the oceans. Put down your smart phones, and turns off your air-pods, and open your eyes and unplug ears to hear the symphony of Nature all around you.

Perhaps Joyce Kilmer said it best in his marvelous little poem called “Trees.” He wrote about God’s little ones: “I think that I shall never see, / A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest / Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; / A tree that looks at God all day / And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in Summer wear / A nest of robins in her hair; / Upon whose bosom snow has lain; / Who intimately lives with rain. / Poems are made by fools like me, / But only God can make a tree.”

Praised be Jesus Christ!