Feast of St. Francis of Assisi
- Oct 4, 2015
- 7 min read
We usually think of St. Francis of Assisi in connection with our pets.
After all, he is the patron saint of animals.
And indeed, there are many wonderful stories about him
interacting with feathered and furry creatures.
In one story, perhaps one you’ve heard before, Francis preaches to the birds.
In another, he pacifies a wolf that is menacing a village.
These are stories about a man who embraced the whole creation,
who saw the world as God sees it: as good.
But there was more to the story of Francis of Assisi than his love for animals.
Francis was born into a wealthy family.
The son of a successful merchant, he lived a carefree childhood,
and as he grew into adulthood,
he came to enjoy the finer things in life:
money, beautiful clothes, lavish food.
It is said that Francis had a charming personality,
and that he used to live his life on the wild side,
enjoying rich friends and all night parties.
More than anything, he wanted to be a noble,
a knight who had been decorated in battle.
So when war broke out, he grabbed his chance, and went.
Unfortunately, things didn’t quite work out as he’d planned.
He was captured, and spent a year in prison,
apparently chained to a wall in a harsh, dark dungeon.
After he left prison, he got sick, and endured a long illness.
And it was during this time,
this time of weakness and recovery,
that things began to change for Francis.
His outlook on life began to change.
Perhaps in his state of vulnerability,
God was able to get through to him,
to chip away at him.
There’s another story about an encounter that Francis had around this time,
an encounter with a leper.
Lepers during Francis’ day were total outcasts.
Leprosy caused people to become hideously deformed,
and people believed that leprosy was caused by sin.
Lepers were only allowed to come into towns at night,
and they had to ring a bell to warn people of their presence.
Like most people, Francis had always been afraid of lepers,
repulsed by them.
But one day, he sees the leper passing by,
ringing his bell,
and he kisses his hand.
There’s a wonderful movie about Francis called The Flowers of St. Francis.
And in this scene in the movie,
Francis runs after the leper, and tenderly embraces him.
And then he falls down in the grass and weeps.
God was working on him.
Softening him.
Opening his heart more and more.
Forming him more and more to be the person God desired him to be.
Then one day, something happened to Francis that would change the course of his life.
He had a habit of praying in a run-down, abandoned church just outside Assisi.
And inside this church was a large fresco of Jesus crucified on the wall.
And one day, as he was praying in the church,
he heard the voice of Jesus speaking to him.
And it said,
“Francis, go and repair my house,
which as you can see, is falling into ruin.”
Repair my house, Francis heard.
At first, that is literally what he did.
He looked at the crumbling church building around him,
and he gathered some friends together,
and they rebuilt it.
And then they started rebuilding other church buildings around Assisi in need of repair.
Only gradually, as God worked on him more and more,
did Francis come to realize that when Jesus had called him to repair the church,
he hadn’t just meant bricks and mortar.
He had meant something more.
Something bigger.
During Francis’ lifetime,
the church had strayed far away from the teachings of Jesus.
It was plagued by corruption, greed, and scandal.
It had largely forgotten the poor
and instead, privileged power and wealth.
Little about it resembled the kind of community
that Jesus had called into being in the Gospels.
It has lost its credibility and its integrity.
Francis came to realize that this was what needed repairing.
And so, he decided to take action.
To start something new in the church, a new movement.
Much to his family’s disapproval,
he renounced his wealth and inheritance
so that he would be totally free for the work to which God was calling him.
A legend says that Francis dramatically stripped naked,
placed his clothes at his father’s feet,
and said that from then on it was God who would be his father.
From then on, he began to preach about repentance and God’s mercy,
and to spend time with those who were poor or had been abandoned.
He also invited others to join him in this way of life.
Francis accepted anyone who wanted to follow him.
The only rule about joining was that they had to sell all of their possessions
and give the money to the poor.
At first only a couple of people joined him.
Then a dozen.
They came to call themselves the Friars Minor.
After just a couple years, though,
thousands of people had joined Francis in his quest to
repair the church.
I’ve been thinking this week about how this happened.
About why the Franciscan movement spread like wildfire.
I mean, what would inspire literally thousands of people
to give up their material possessions
and run after a man many people today might say was crazy.
It’s said that when Francis was preaching,
he would sometimes dance,
weep,
make animals sounds,
strip to his underwear,
and play the zither.
I will not be doing any of these, I assure you!
What but what was it about Francis that made him so compelling for people?
Well, here’s what I think it might have been.
What I think what people who encountered Francis saw
was the same thing the people who had encountered Jesus had seen:
and that is, someone who was authentic.
A little eccentric perhaps, but authentic.
Someone whose way of life actually embodied their words.
Someone who spoke passionately about God,
and whose actions made his words real.
Someone who preached the Gospel with conviction and love,
not just by the things he said, but by the way he lived.
Someone once said that Francis had a way of “making his whole body a tongue.”
Making his whole body a tongue.
And I think when people saw him,
they saw someone who had integrity.
And they were compelled by it.
And inspired to live their lives like he did.
I think this might be why so many people around the world
find the “other” Francis, Pope Francis, so compelling.
By his own admission, Pope Francis isn’t perfect.
But so often, he has gone about his ministry as Pope
in ways that have brought his words to life:
His emphasis on God’s love and mercy,
and on solidarity with those who are poor,
and on not being afraid to encounter others who are different,
and on not judging people,
has so often been embodied in his actions:
his choice to live as simply as possible,
kissing a man with leprosy,
housing refugee families within the walls of the Vatican,
speaking with transgendered man,
embracing the young daughter of immigrants who jumped over a barricade to meet him on his recent trip the U.S.
meeting a gay couple.
I think what people saw in Francis of Assisi,
and what people see in Pope Francis
are people who preach the Gospel with their actions and their words
Just as Francis said we should.
This morning, we certainly remember and give thanks for the love Francis of Assisi had for animals.
But we also remember the call he accepted from God to repair the church.
This call is not a distant call, nor is it one than just belongs to Francis.
If you haven’t noticed, the church is still in need of repairing.
Not just our church buildings,
but like in Francis’ day, in bigger ways.
Repairing from the fears of shrinking and dying that have plagued it for too long.
Repairing from apathy and timidness
about sharing the Good News that God has come to us in Jesus Christ.
Repairing from scandals and infighting about human sexuality and property.
Repairing from racism,
from sexism and mistreatment of women, LGBTQ people and others.
Repairing from still forgetting those who are poor,
and privileging those with power and wealth.
Just like the church in Francis’ time,
the church today is crumbling from a loss in credibility,
one that has too often driven people further from God instead of closer.
And just like in Francis’ time, the solution to this problem
isn’t to be found just in bricks and mortar.
The solution is to be found within us.
We are the bricks and mortar of God’s church.
You and me.
And the way we repair the church is the same way Francis did:
By being authentic.
By letting our whole lives speak about God with love and conviction.
By living in such a way that our words about God
take on flesh and blood in our actions.
Living in such a way that when people encounter us,
They’ll take notice.
They’ll be compelled.
They’ll say, I want to be part of that!
Not all of us are called to sell all of our material possessions like Francis did.
Or to start a new order within the church.
Just as not all preachers are called to dance,
and make animals sounds,
and strip to their underwear.
(Thank God).
We can only follow Jesus in our lives, not Francis’.
We can only live our lives with love and conviction and integrity.
We can only make the church more authentic and more credible
in the ways we can,
in the time we’ve been given.
Now may we,
inspired and challenged by Francis’ example,
and aided by his prayers,
be given wisdom, strength, and courage for this work.
Amen.
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