The Lizard Whisperer: Why We’re Still Learning from St. Francis of Assisi

When I saw this photo, taken in Mexico by the talented daughter of one of my college roommates, I knew I had to blog about it. I wasn’t sure what to say, though. In fact, I wasn’t sure I needed to say anything. Because, really, when you have a photo of a lizard engaging in conversation with St. Francis of Assisi, patron saint of animals, what else do you need?

You may have to look carefully at first to see the lizard against the foliage. But there it is—a living, long-tailed testimony to St. Francis and his reputed acceptance of all creatures great and small.

St. Francis clearly had a special connection with animals, according to written records. One story recounts a time when he preached an impromptu sermon to a large flock of birds. The monks who recorded the event said the birds listened to him intently, stretching their necks and spreading their wings in appreciation. After St. Francis thanked God for the birds’ attention and beauty, they flew off in different directions, like messengers carrying his divine blessing.

Birds, yes. But lizards?

I think that’s what delights me most about this photo. If it had been a bird talking to St. Francis, or a rabbit or a butterfly, it would have been just another lovely but expected image. But a lizard going nose to nose with the saint? That says something.

Aside from the wise-cracking gecko in insurance ads, lizards aren’t high on most people’s list of favorite animals. They skitter and surprise. They climb up walls and dart into bushes. While birds are all heavenly and inspiring, lizards can make your skin crawl.

Yet St. Francis didn’t judge. In fact, he said this:

“If you have men who will exclude any of God’s creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.”

So maybe that’s what this photo and its young photographer are reminding us of: That there is no less than or greater than in lizards, birds or the entire two-legged species of often confounding humans. All of us deserve to go nose to nose with the Divine and ask questions, be heard and engage in a conversation of respect and curiosity and wonder.

If we judge any creature as lowly, we judge all creatures as lowly. And most of all, we judge ourselves.

That’s why I’m taking this photo to heart. Next time I engage in meditation or prayer, I’ll bring this image to mind, remembering that God, like St. Francis, is thanking me for my attention, and returning it in more than equal measure. That’s a divine blessing we can all take to the world, using the legs or wings we’ve been given.

P.S. A photo like this deserves a proper caption. I’d love to read yours in the Comments section.