In 2015, the summer that the document Laudato Si, the Encyclical on Care for our Common Home, was promulgated by Pope Francis, I was preparing to embark on my new appointment as the Pastor of a small community in Inuvik and its surrounding missions in the Western Canadian Arctic.

In Laudato Si, Pope Francis asks us to open our eyes and see what is happening to our common home. In the encyclical we read, 
“ a sober look at our world shows that the degree of human intervention, often in the service of business interests and consumerism, is actually making our earth less rich and beautiful, ever more limited and grey, even as technological advances and consumer goods continue to abound limitlessly.”

As I drove the 700 isolated kilometers of the Dempster Highway through the Yukon and Northwest Territories I was awestruck by the natural beauty. Following the course of river valleys and crossing two mountain ranges, not seeing a single other vehicle before or behind me for hours at a time I could have believed that the land I was driving through was pristine and untouched by human hands save for the ribbon of gravel road that stretched across the permafrost bed of the northern taiga and tundra landscapes.

I was soon to learn however that while the beauty of our northern lands is real, the idea that they have been untouched by our hand is an illusion.

While the traditional peoples of these lands have been present for thousands of years, living in a relatively harmonious relationship with the environment and God’s creation, the advent of towns, and mines and modern technologies are very new to the north and it is perhaps here that the contrast between the untouched and the recently spoiled is most clearly to be seen.

I saw this plainly written in the communities which had been built up and then left abandoned by the speculative interests of oil and gas companies. This was clear in the divisive rift that had grown between those who had access to wealth of the mines and those who were left to live in poverty,  off of government support. In a few short decades a traditional lifestyle that had been in tune with the seasons and the land, had turned to a consumer economy that left many people behind, scuttling the purpose of life for many elders and the hopes of so many young people.
Aside from toll on human health and relationships, the reality of climate change, which is still debated by some, could easily be put to rest in the minds of the doubtful by simply visiting the north. Melting permafrost and crumbling shorelines disrupt human habitation, floods and forest fires create havoc and fear as communities face mandatory evacuation notices year after year,  and dwindling migratory herds contribute to food scarcity. These are just a few of the stark indicators from the north that give notice our earth is on a path that we do not want to go down for the sake of the millions, or even billions of humans who will be adversely affected in a direct way not to mention the rest of the earth’s species which may not be able to adapt as quickly as we can. In the end we are all affected because we are all connected.

Despite drawing our attention to this bleak present reality and its causes, Laudato Si is, in fact, an encyclical about hope. It reminds us that, yes, we must change our course but also that we have what it takes to change. Again, from the encyclical we read,
 “Many things have to change course, but it is we human beings above all who need to change. We lack an awareness of our common origin, of our mutual belonging, and of a future to be shared with everyone. This basic awareness would enable the development of new convictions, attitudes and forms of life. A great cultural, spiritual and educational challenge stands before us, and it will demand that we set out on the long path of renewal”.

This is a challenging ask, but within our spiritual tradition lies an untapped source of wisdom and practical knowledge personified in the figure of St. Francis. Again, quoting from the document,
“In calling to mind the figure of Saint Francis of Assisi, we come to realize that a healthy relationship with creation is one dimension of overall personal conversion, which entails the recognition of our errors, sins, faults and failures, and leads to heartfelt repentance and desire to change”.

St. Francis spoke of the sun as “Brother Sun” and the moon as “Sister Moon.” He called the earth “Mother Earth, who sustains and governs us.” This language reminds us that creation is not a set of resources to exploit but a family of which we are a part. When we see creation this way, harming it feels like harming a loved one.

St. Francis chose a life of radical simplicity, freeing himself from greed and consumerism so he could rely entirely on God’s providence. His joy came not from possessions, but from relationships—with God, with others, and with creation.

Another source of wisdom comes from the ancient traditions of the Indigenous peoples of northern Canada. I am buoyed in hope by the crossover that I see between the work of Truth and Reconciliation with the Indigenous peoples of this land and the Call of Laudato Si. Within that window of intersection is an opportunity to learn from those who have been doing this the longest and who have the most immediate vested interest. From the encyclical we read,
“It is essential to show special care for indigenous communities and their cultural traditions. They are not merely one minority among others, but should be the principal dialogue partners, especially when large projects affecting their land are proposed. For them, land is not a commodity but rather a gift from God and from their ancestors who rest there, a sacred space with which they need to interact if they are to maintain their identity and their values. When they remain on their land, they themselves care for it best.”

Good relations with our brothers and sisters are an integral step to a good relationship with all of creation. We can learn so much if we just listen.

As we hold together the beauty of creation and the wounds it bears, we are reminded that our story in the North is bound up with the greater story of our common home across the Earth. The stillness of the tundra, the resilience of the caribou, the flowing rivers and vast skies—they all call us to humility and to responsibility. Laudato Si teaches us that creation is not simply a backdrop to our lives, but a gift entrusted to our care, woven into our identity, and essential to our future.

We go forward, then, not only as observers of this fragile beauty, but as stewards and companions, walking the long road of renewal with courage and hope. We are called to listen deeply—to the land, to one another, and to the Spirit who speaks in the silence of the northern wind. In this listening, we find strength, and in this shared journey, we discover a better future.
May our reflection today come to bear fruit in concrete action, so that generations to come may know the earth not as a land spoiled, but as a place of wonder and a home of relationship, and blessing.