Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

Lectionary: 457

Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.


I entered the Franciscan seminary in 1962, a month before my fourteenth birthday. I knew Saint Francis as the man on the birdbath, the lover of flowers and nature. Though I have always loved to read I saw myself as an outdoors person and Francis seemed like all-outdoors. In time I would come to know him much better, even as I spent more time indoors.
Pope Paul VI nominated Saint Francis of Assisi as the patron saint of ecology but long before he was given that title the world knew the Italian as il poverello, "the little poor man."
Francis wanted to walk in the footsteps of Jesus, especially by disowning every property and disavowing every claim to privilege, status or merit. If the Son of Man had nowhere to lay his head, Francis would sleep on the bare ground under the open sky or, if necessary, under a bridge. If Jesus suffered the contempt of men, Francis would not curry favor with anyone. He sought only God's mercy.
He was fascinated by Jesus, not by "nature." (There was no such word in any European language at that time.) As he lived that radically simple "life style" (and there was no word for that either) he noticed how God provided for the creatures who lived beyond the world of man. Foxes had dens and birds have nests but only at God's behest. We might remark at how well adapted these animals are to their environment but the 13th century friar knew nothing of "environment." He saw only what the Lord commanded him to see, "Behold the birds of the air...." and "Behold the lilies of the field..." They neither sow nor reap but their heavenly father provides for them. 
The Father had provided for Jesus and his disciples as they roamed Galilee and journeyed to Jerusalem, Francis wanted to live in that same manner, relying totally on the Father's love.
If he was cold in the winter and hot in the summer, if he was hungry or thirsty and no one gave him anything  -- these too were God's gifts. As the wise man Job had said, 
"We accept good things from the Lord, and should we not accept the bad? The Lord gives. The Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord!" 
Why should he expect any kinder treatment than the world gave Jesus? Later in life he set out for Egypt and the front line of the Crusades, hoping to be martyred. He came home disappointed that God had not favored him with that crown. 
Francis heard and accepted a particular invitation from the Lord. Many people, hearing his story, might think him insane. They might react defensively, thinking that no one should be expected to imitate Jesus so slavishly. They miss the point.
Francis was appointed by a particular grace to live as he did and he followed that blessing remarkably well. At the end of his life he reassured his disciples, "I have done what is mine, may God show you what is yours." 
If imitating Francis and Jesus seems difficult, it is more difficult to discern and follow one's own particular vocation. Early in life we ask God, "What do you want me to do with my life?" Later we ask, "What shall I do today?" And each day we ask, "Lord, did I follow your lead today?" 
We hope the life we have chosen is that given us by God. But we also know the Lord  is a master artisan willing to work with whatever materials are at hand. If he had, at one time, wanted me to preach in Africa and I failed to hear that call, the Lord will accept me where I am and direct me from there. He surely directs no one to a life of drug abuse or alcoholism but he makes marvelous use of men and women in recovery. 
Saint Francis of Assisi was a thirteenth-century Italian who challenged and changed the world by listening to the voice of God. During these troubled times we pray that God will speak to us and use us as instruments of his peace

No comments:

Post a Comment

I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.

Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.

I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.

You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.