St Francis faces the end of the world...
‘Can I have a word
please?’
Francis had known there
would be repercussions. He swallowed the rising feeling of trepidation.
But hadn't God
delegated his authority – left the entire matter in Francis hands?
It was all very well
observing things from afar in Paradise. It was also all very well having 800
years of experience and the title of Patron Saint of Ecology and Animals but
that didn't prepare anyone for a visit to Earth. Glasgow 2021 to be precise. Taking
on the climate crisis that could end the world - with a bunch of overworked, tired world
leaders reeling from the shock of COVID, hosted in the country that voted for
BREXIT to boot ( although Scots might disagree). God just hadn't realised the
enormity of the task they'd assigned to him.
Francis tightened the
rope around his waist and hitched up his habit - mentally preparing himself for God 's disappointment
and the inevitable dressing down. He silently listed arguments about how fast the Earth was heating up; the extinction
of millions of animals, birds, insects and plants; the environment breaking
down; weather extremes - forests burning, floods, sea levels rising, the Arctic
melting; economic disruption, food and water scarcity, conflict, terrorism....
When his chance to
speak at COP 26 had come up he had been impassioned. He had gone to town citing
the greed and selfishness of modern society; moral corruption; neglect of and
disrespect to God's beautiful planet, the finite resources, the need to live
sustainably alongside nature. He had even got in his trump card mention of
Sister Bodily Death....
It had gone well - even
if Francis did say so himself. The plights of walruses fatally jumping off
cliffs, lonely sad orang-utans in disappearing forests and of course polar
bears stranded on melting ice islands floating helplessly away.... He had the
audience in the palm of his hand.
He'd received a lot of
praise from several of the other delegates. He enjoyed the banter - the irony
of being a Franciscan monk called Francis etc etc... He'd felt like he was an
accepted part of the movement for change, respected and, crucially, that
he'd made some headway.
So, it came as rather a
shock on the final day when the votes hadn't gone the way he'd anticipated. In
fact, the commitments were just not there - it was patently all talk. Just like
one of his new contacts Greta had predicted - blah, blah, blah....
And well, since there
was clearly no getting through to these people, Francis decided to take drastic
action. He was a revered saint in whom God had vested the ultimate power. (God
had made that very clear by the way - '..whatever it takes Francis, I give you
my full authority and the power that comes with that. You will have my full
support....’). Francis felt completely vindicated.
As Francis headed over
to the soft seating area that God reserved for his most ‘special’ chats, he
peered into the courtyard behind St Peter's Gate.
St Peter and his team
were extremely harassed - the processing of new arrivals had grown exponentially.
Francis had to admit that there was an awfully long queue of surprised,
indignant, pompous world leaders. He conceded to himself that, despite feeling
justified in his actions, he really hadn't thought through the consequences for Heaven's
administrative system or the paperwork involved.
Sarah
Tickle
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