By Fr. C-Y Kao, SJ
On May 17, 2025, members of St. Francis Xavier Church in New York City made a pilgrimage to the Cabrini Shrine to mark the 10th anniversary of “Laudato Si’.” As part of the celebration, we planted a tree together — a simple gesture filled with meaning. Reflecting afterward, I realized the day was about more than honoring an encyclical. It was about rediscovering our place in the larger whole of God’s creation.
I have to admit, I’m not the outdoorsy type. I grew up in cities and have spent most of my life surrounded by concrete, traffic and the constant hum of urban life. Drop me in a forest without GPS and I’d probably panic. So, when I first heard talk about “caring for our common home,” it felt abstract and distant, like someone else’s responsibility.
What changed for me was noticing that care for creation begins with belonging. It doesn’t require hiking boots or grand gestures. Small, intentional moments, such as pausing to feel a breeze, listening to birds or watching the seasons turn, remind us that we’re part of something bigger. That recognition has a quiet power to heal the scattered parts of life.
Caring for creation can’t be reduced to a checklist. We can recycle, reduce waste or track our carbon footprint, but if those actions are detached from lived awareness, they become chores.
We usually treat problems as separate. Stomach hurts? Fix the stomach. Toothache? Fix the tooth. Just last month I had a bad tooth problem. At the dentist, he casually asked, “Are you a little stressed these days?” I don’t know whether stress caused it, but his words stayed with me. Everything is connected. Our bodies, our relationships and the natural world form one intricate system. Try fixing one piece in isolation and you only get so far.
Creation works the same way. Break it into parts and you miss the whole. From the very beginning, Genesis 1:31 tells us, “God saw everything that God had made, and indeed, it was very good.” St. Paul echoes this when he writes, “In Christ all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17). And Jesus brings it close to home: “Look at the birds of the air … consider the lilies of the field” (Matthew 6:26–28). We aren’t standing outside creation; we live inside it, woven into its web of life. As “Laudato Si’” puts it, “everything is interconnected … genuine care for our own lives and our relationships with nature is inseparable from fraternity, justice and faithfulness to others” (LS 70).
That’s why caring for creation can’t be reduced to a checklist. We can recycle, reduce waste or track our carbon footprint, but if those actions are detached from lived awareness, they become chores. When we begin with belonging, care flows less from obligation and more from gratitude.
This is where Ignatian spirituality helps. We are called to discernment to understand not just what we do, but why. When we start from awareness of God’s presence in all things, even the smallest action becomes an act of praise.
Our pilgrimage showed this clearly. After a long, cold winter, many of us had slipped into a kind of hibernation, closing ourselves off from harsh weather, political turmoil and social tension just to get through the day. That instinct can numb our capacity to notice the world around us. Planting a tree on the grounds of the Cabrini Shrine broke through that numbness. It was simple, yet profoundly symbolic: a sign of new life and shared responsibility. It reminded us that we are part of a living system that needs our care and, in turn, cares for us.
The anniversary of “Laudato Si’” is more than a date on the calendar. It’s a call to reconciliation with neighbors, with the Earth, with God and with the neglected parts of our own lives. Presence restores what fragmentation breaks apart. When we pay attention — really notice a tree, a bird or the feel of our own breath — we begin to love what we notice. And love naturally leads to care.
That day, after Mass, we prayed in the garden. Surrounded by new leaves and spring air, it felt as if creation itself prayed with us. The experience drew us back to our senses, to gratitude and to a shared commitment. The pilgrimage reminded me that caring for our common home begins with presence: slowing down, looking closely and letting ourselves be amazed.
In the end, the journey was less about reaching the shrine and more about awakening to the truth that life, creation and faith are inseparable. By noticing the world around us, we discover that caring for the Earth and caring for one another are the same movement toward God. A single tree planted together stands as a sign of that truth: When we open our hearts, rooted love can grow, and with it, hope for our common home.
This pilgrimage was part of a year of creation-centered prayer and action. On September 17, about 250 Catholics across parishes in New York City gathered at Xavier for a Mass honoring the Metro NY Catholic Climate Movement (MNYCCM), which our parish helped found. Days later, many joined the Season of Creation pilgrimage to Thomas Berry Place, renewing our shared commitment to God and the Earth.
Want to learn more about Pilgrimages of Hope for Creation and plan your own? Visit catholicpilgrimsofhope.com.
And listen to Dan Misleh of Catholic Climate Covenant and Annie Fox from the Jesuits’ USA West Province talk about the importance of pilgrimage during this Season of Creation on “AMDG: A Jesuit Podcast.
