Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

Lectionary: 651

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ,

through which the world has been crucified to me,

and I to the world.

For neither does circumcision mean anything, nor does uncircumcision,

but only a new creation.

That fellow who often stands over birdbaths in butterfly gardens was once a real human being. When he decided to follow in the footsteps of Jesus  as closely as possible, he discovered the simplest, easiest, quickest and purist method would be to disavow ownership of everything. He claimed neither possessions, titles, connections, achievements nor virtues. He did kind deeds for others but they owed him nothing. People offered him help -- food, clothing, shelter, endorsement, etc -- but he accepted only what he needed in the moment. Because he saw Jesus making no provision for tomorrow, Francis eschewed planning. "Tomorrow will take care of itself."  He approached the future like birds of the air, who neither sow nor reap, but their heavenly father provides for them. Even when he set out for Rome, Egypt or Spain, he trusted the Lord would provide along the way. Why worry when God is in charge?

And when he suffered the cold of winter, the heat of summer, severe hunger, vermin, and disease he thanked God for allowing him to share in the suffering of Christ.

He certainly never supposed that, because he relied on God, God should make his life free of pain. That would not resemble the life of Jesus. Not even close!

When he experienced "success" he hoped it was for God's purposes and God's greater glory.  In fact, his family, friends and neighbors at first greeted his imitation of Christ with contempt, mockery and deep skepticism. But they came around when he welcomed their hostility and continued to sing and laugh with the freedom of a man who has no debts and no obligations. Eventually, the world embraced him as bishops, kings, emperors and popes laid a red carpet before him.

But always he walked in the poverty of Christ, keeping his gaze upon the "cross of our Lord Jesus." No sooner would he leave the royal dining table than he would sleep on the bare ground, remembering how Jesus "slept" on a wooden cross. Rather than recounting in his mind the powerful words he had just spoken to rapt audiences, he dwelt upon the bitter disappointment of God. "My people, my people, what have I done to you? Or in what have I offended you?"

Saint Francis is rightly remembered as the happiest of saints. He discovered joyous, ecstatic freedom in owning, claiming, and expecting nothing. Everything was gift for him. But there were also many moments of deep confusion as the gospel he trusted encountered the resistance of his flesh. He sometimes retired to a cave, a hole in the ground, where he seemed to be mining laboriously for some hidden treasure. He sought joy in discomfort, and delight in disappointment. These jewels didn't always gleam in the dark. He sometimes had to wait in deep distress as grace worked its miracle in him. "Love is not loved!" he would grieve. "Love is not loved!" He wasn't complaining about others when he made that prayer, but about his own resistance.

Eight centuries later, the world is going through another set of convulsions not unlike those of the thirteenth century. Nations and corporation are amassing enormous power; they are building a death star to destroy our own planet. 

Some of us turn to Jesus, as Francis did, for guidance. We remember the new direction the Poor Man of Assisi gave to the world. The spirituality of the middle class eventually developed from his spirit and teachings. Banks forswore usury to create a new, capitalist system. Insurance companies created communities of support to mitigate the effects of catastrophe. A "service sector" would be born to support worker/consumers and their dependents. 

Francis speaks to us today, especially as we address climate change. No one imagined until quite recently that humans might have the power to destroy life on our planet. We now realize that we are heading pell-mell in that direction. Saint Francis teaches us to stop, give glory to God the Father, wait on the guiding Holy Spirit, and follow in the footsteps of Jesus. If it's not easy, it's infinitely easier than living on a contaminated planet with several billion unhappy earthlings.