Faith in the Midst of Ruins
How Lonely Sits the City
“How lonely sits the city that once was full of people.”
Those opening words from Lamentations pierce the heart. The city of Jerusalem, once alive with music, prayer, and laughter, lies in ruins.
Traditionally, this book is linked to the prophet Jeremiah — the “weeping prophet.” Whether he penned it himself or it came from a poet of his school, the author speaks from deep personal and communal grief.
He walks through the ashes of a broken city, and instead of turning away, he prays. He doesn’t hide his sorrow. His lament becomes an act of faith — a way of saying, “God, I still believe You are listening.”
Lament is not the opposite of faith.
Lament is faith — faith that dares to speak honestly, to cry out, to grieve, and still to hope.
When Faith Feels Small
Fast forward centuries later to Paul’s words to Timothy.
Paul writes from prison, facing suffering and uncertainty. Yet his tone is full of courage and tenderness:
“Rekindle the gift of God that is within you, for God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-discipline.”
Paul knows that fear and discouragement can dim our spiritual flame. Life’s ruins — personal losses, injustices, global suffering — can make faith feel small or fragile.
But Paul reminds Timothy (and us): the flame still burns. Even if it’s only an ember, it can be rekindled.
Faith doesn’t have to roar. Sometimes it flickers quietly — yet it still carries light enough to guide the next step.
Faith the Size of a Mustard Seed
In Luke 17, the disciples cry out, “Increase our faith!” They sound like many of us who wish for more certainty or strength.
Jesus surprises them with His answer:
“If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.”
In other words: you already have what you need.
Faith isn’t about size; it’s about trust. It’s living faithfully, doing what God calls you to do — even when you feel unsure or tired.
Sometimes faith is simply showing up — praying, forgiving, caring, believing — one small act at a time.
A Song from the Ruins: St. Francis and the World of Creation
On this same weekend, we remember St. Francis of Assisi — and celebrate World Animal Day.
Francis lived during a time of social and spiritual decay — a kind of “ruined city” of his own. Yet instead of despairing, he chose simplicity, compassion, and love for all creation. He rebuilt small chapels stone by stone, but more importantly, he rebuilt hearts through his humility and joy.
Francis saw every creature — birds, wolves, sun, moon, and water — as brothers and sisters. He sang of them in his Canticle of the Creatures, praising God through the beauty of creation.
He teaches us that faith is not just belief in God; it’s living in harmony with everything God made.
When we bless animals or care for the earth, we honor the Creator who made all life sacred.
Every act of kindness — feeding a stray cat, planting a tree, conserving water, comforting the suffering — becomes a mustard seed of faith planted in the soil of creation.
Threads That Hold Together
- Jeremiah’s lament teaches us to bring our sorrow to God honestly.
- Paul’s courage reminds us to rekindle our inner flame.
- Jesus’ parable shows us that even the smallest faith matters.
- Francis’ joy reveals that all creation joins in God’s redemptive work.
These threads weave one great truth:
God is present not only in victory but also in loss, not only in temples but in prisons, fields, and forests.
Even when everything feels broken, God is still creating something new.
Faith in the Midst of Ruins
If your faith feels small today — if you’re standing among the “ruins” of plans, relationships, or dreams — remember this:
The God who heard Jeremiah’s lament, who gave Paul courage, and who inspired Francis to sing among the sparrows is the same God walking with you now.
The ruins are never the end.
The flame still burns.
The mustard seed still grows.
And creation still sings.
A Prayer for This Day
God of compassion and Creator of all,
You wept through Jeremiah and sang through Francis.
Teach us to lament with honesty,
To rekindle the flame of faith within us,
And to walk gently upon this earth.
Bless every creature — great and small —
That together we may join in your song of peace.
Amen.
