In honor of All Saints’ Day, I want to share two stories about wolves. In the first story, a 13-year old boy from the Sheshoni nation prepares for his vision quest. This is the time he goes apart from his tribe to mark his passage from childhood to adulthood. As the boy sets out, he takes a small bit of food and water and a bear skin to sleep on. Eight days later he returns to the village and his father asks, “Running Fox, what did you see?” The boy answers, “I can’t say!” The boy’s mother finds him and asks, “Running Fox, what did you see?” “I can’t say,” the boy replies. Later, his grandfather approaches and says, “Running Fox, tell me your dream!” The boy answers “Grandfather, every night I saw the same thing and every night it frightened me! There were two wolves in a terrible fight. The first wolf was full of anger and false pride. The littlest thing set him off in a fit of temper. He snarled and foamed and raged. The other wolf was calm and steady. He lived in harmony with everything around him. He did not take offense when no offense was intended. He fought only when it was necessary and only in the right way. But in the end, the two wolves charged each other. It was loud and bloody and awful. What does this mean, Grandfather?”

“Running Fox, the two wolves live inside you. They are both part of you. One is evil. He is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority and lies. The other wolf is goodness.  He is joy, peace, love, hope, humility, kindness, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The two wolves are fighting for your spirit. They are fighting to see what kind of man you will become.” The grandson was very quiet for a while and then he asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?” The grandfather answered, “The one you feed.”

This Native American parable is very much like our Christian understanding of human nature. We, too, believe in dual forces at work within us, battling for supremacy.   We understand that we are created in the image of God. We carry the Almighty’s DNA deep within us. We were made good and powerful, sure and noble. We have huge spirits and the capacity to do deeds of honor and compassion. We were built with mighty hearts and strong minds. We can operate in the world with patience, restraint, wisdom and valor. God is in us. God beats in our heartbeats. God courses through our veins as our blood circulates over and over. God in us makes us a force for good.

But we also carry another force. Since the proverbial fall, since the time we first exercised our free will in a stupid, prideful, short-sighted way, we’ve also carried an angry, uncontrollable, broken nature inside of us. In our minds, hearts and spirits, there resides doubt and guilt, suspension and anxiety. We mistrust and overreact. We fear and hold on to hurts. We can easily move in the world in small, unappealing ways.

The image of God and the fallen man are at war within us. They fight for our souls. And like the wolves, the nature that wins is the one we feed.

The Christian faith teaches us that god gave humanity the strength and the will to decide who we will become. God says claim the divine image that lives within you or claim fragile, mortal limitations. Aspire to the heavenly, eternal ideal or settle for brokenness and discord. The decision is in your hands. 

If we decide that we prefer to feed our holy nature, if we determine it’s better to locate and stoke up the divine spark glowing within us, there are several healthy practices to engage. First, people growing into their divine image learn to exercise restraint.

Because…Earth is not heaven. Earth is a place populated by fools and recovering fools. While all God’s children are made in his image, we aren’t made in his complete image and, therefore, we make mistakes and bad judgments. Everyday of our lives we are likely to encounter frustrations. We are sure to run up against someone who doesn’t have our best interests at heart – they will have their own interest uppermost in their mind. We will fall victim to carelessness and aggravation and we will have a choice to make. We can either react with irritation, smugness, anger, hurt feelings or we can breathe in God’s abiding peace and rise above the presenting temporal issue. Made in the image of God means we have the capacity to take the eternal view, which is a really, really long view, which means we don’t have to get caught up in someone else’s momentary drama or even our own. We can pause and reflect and ask, in God’s economy, in God’s time, is this incident worth my anger or my angst? Claiming our better nature means exercising patience, wisdom and restraint.

Secondly, when we want to feed the good force within us, we learn to speak the truth – always – even in uncomfortable places. God is the ultimate truth teller and, if we’re made in his image, we do carry the desire and the talent for speaking what is real. When we’re living into our best selves, we stand up for what is right. We are confident that the truth is more powerful and ultimately more comforting than keeping secrets or pretending under the guise of protecting someone’s feelings. God doesn’t lie or gloss over cracks and problems. God stands beside the mess, then goes with us through the hurt and fear to the other side. He comes with us to healing and reconciliation. God made us strong enough to do this work. 

Another core strategy for nurturing the good side and making it stronger and stronger is to follow Christ’s command in the beatitudes. “Blessed are you, blessed are you who do to others as you would have them do to you!” This is no small charge. This directive is not a sentimental, easy axiom for cooperative living. Jesus isn’t talking about waiting your turn in line or holding doors open for strangers. Jesus is commending radical hospitality. 

Made in the image of God means we’re created with the capacity for expansive generosity. We’re made to care for others with a gracious, self-sacrificing heart. So, when we need help, would we want someone to toss us a bandage, or would we want someone, anyone to drive us to the hospital, help us navigate the emergency room, wait by our side, go with us to our hospital room and stay with us through the night? If that’s what we’d really want, if that’s what would make us feel safe and loved, then that’s what we do for others when the occasion arises. That’s the full measure of doing to others as we would have them do to us.

The final feeding practice is to ask the question in everyday events, what would God do in this situation? Knowing what I know about God’s wisdom, his grace and love, justice and restraint, what would he do here? And as I’m made in his likeness, how must I respond? When we’re faced with a belligerent co-worker or a friend who’s betrayed our trust or a civic injustice or loved one who’s disappointed us, thinking about God’s response and way of maintaining relationship before reacting is a sign of our divine spark burning bright.

So, when we take on these practices, when we exercise restraint and patience, when we speak the truth even in hard circumstances and treat one another with radical hospitality, when we ask, answer and live into the question, what would God do, what would Jesus do in these circumstances – our better nature wins!

And what does our life look like then? When the good side beats down the pitiful, puny, angry, selfish side, what emerges? What do we look like? How are we remembered?

Well, dear ones, when we feed the image of God and starve the angry wolf, the saint emerges. This is the very definition and essence of saints. They are everyday men and women, boys and girls who fight the good fight of their two natures and commit themselves to feeding the one poured into their being by God. As I said last week, saints are not born, they are formed through living and deciding. They make themselves saints through the choices they make. And each of us is a potential saint in formation! Any day, our crown of glory, our halo of light and goodness may appear. Often our sainthood is not universally celebrated, but our deep connection with God is understood and appreciated by our creator and by people we touch with our lives. 

When we continue to nurture and nourish our good spirit, our actions in the world change. We see things differently. We see new possibilities and miraculous solutions.

An example of saintly action comes in our second story about a wolf. In the middle of his life, St. Francis, a Catholic friar from Assisi, went to visit the town of Gubbio. While he was there, he learned of a wolf so ravenous that it was not only killing and eating livestock, but people, too. The villagers took up arms and went to kill the wolf but, those that met the wolf, perished at its sharp teeth.  The people became afraid to leave the city walls.

Francis decided to go to the wolf. Villagers warned him not to, but he insisted God would watch over him. Some townspeople started out with him but, at the city gate, they lost heart and turned back.  Outside the city, Francis walked on when suddenly, the wolf, jaws opened, charged out of the woods right for Francis’ neck. The small man made the sign of the cross towards the wolf and the wolf slowed down and closed its mouth. Francis called out, “Come to me, Brother Wolf. In the name of Christ, I order you not to hurt anyone.” Francis continued speaking to the subdued animal. “Brother Wolf, I want to make peace between you and people of Gubbio. They will harm you no more and you must no longer harm them. All past crimes are forgiven.” The wolf followed Francis back to the town square. There, the man from Assisi gave a sermon on the wondrous and fearful love of God and enacted a pact between the people and the wolf. They would feed the wolf and the wolf would not attack either their animals or the citizens. The wolf lived for two years among the townspeople, going door to door for food. When it died of old age, the people of Gubbio remarked that the wolf’s peaceful ways had been a reminder to them of the wonders, patience, virtues and holiness of St. Francis and a living symbol of the power and providence of the living God. 

Because Francis grew stronger and stronger into his image of God, he acted in the world in transformed ways. He didn’t see life’s problems from a place of fear or brokenness. He was willing to try audacious, miraculous solutions. He had hope and a divine imagination! This is consistent behavior of saints. They tend to take on big dilemmas. They tend to trust God to answer prayers and needs. They believe all things are possible in God’s dominion. And, at the end of their very blessed and satisfying lives, they die in peaceful, easy assurance that they will see God face to face.

Today we honor the saints. We remember all those in every generation who fought the good fight of their two natures. We remember and commend their fortitude and courage. We appreciate their willingness to strive for the impress of God on their souls.

For their struggle, for their ultimate victory, for their good deeds and deep faith, for the legacy they left behind for us to follow and emulate, we give thanks. 

For saints we’ve admired from afar, for saints we’ve loved in our own lives, we give thanks. For the saints still being formed, for the saints we hope to become, we give thanks.

For all the saints, we say thanks be to God.