Feast of St. Francis
October 7, 2007
The Rev. Kristin Krantz
Associate Rector

Gracious God, take our minds and think through them;
take our hands and work through them;
take our hearts and set them on fire.
Amen.

In the summer of 1996 after I graduated from college and about a year before the earthquakes that badly damaged the Basilica of St. Francis, I traveled abroad to Europe for the first time and one of my stops was Assisi. I was only there for an afternoon, but it was long enough to be suitably impressed with the town and sacred buildings. My strongest memory of Assisi, however, was of walking past two Franciscan Friars and overhearing their conversation. I was far enough into my trip that my ears pricked up upon hearing English – and as it turned out I went all the way to Assisi to hear one American Friar complain to another that his sandals were uncomfortable and that his feet were killing him. I laughed a bit then, and I still chuckle today thinking of it because it was one of those moments when the curtain was pulled aside and the divine and humanity were fully present for me. I think Francis would appreciate this because his life and preaching were at their heart, about the interconnectedness of God and creation.

And so today we celebrate one of our cheekiest Saints, Francis of Assisi. Born into a wealthy merchant family in the Italian town of Assisi in the 12th century, Francis led a frivolous life until sickness and disappointing military service led him to reflect on the purpose of life. Sitting in the church of San Damiano, he heard Christ saying to him, “Francis, repair my falling house.” Taking the experience literally, he sold a bale of his father’s silk to pay for repairs to the church. That’s cheeky.

When his outraged father confronted him in public, he disowned and disinherited him – and Francis in turn renounced his father’s wealth. One account holds that he not only handed his father his purse, but also took off his expensive clothes, laid them at his father’s feet, and walked away naked. That’s cheeky.

And in a time when the church proclaimed Jesus as King, dressed in fine robes and wearing a jeweled crown, Francis proclaimed the poverty of Christ and formed the Order of Friars Minor whose rule was one of strict and absolute poverty. That’s cheeky.

But the cheekiest thing about St. Francis is that he truly believed in the Incarnation – the holy mystery of the word made flesh. He held sacred that moment when God entered creation in human form. It is no surprise then, that he held a special place for the feast of Christmas. Not only was he the first person recorded to have staged a nativity scene, but he also believed that all creatures should be included in the celebration of Christmas.

And this was because he believed the Incarnation to be more than an extraordinary, one-time event in the birth of Jesus – though it was. But Francis also believed that the Incarnation was a sign of God entering all of creation. His biographers tell us that he wanted the emperor to ask all citizens to scatter grain along the roads on Christmas day so that the birds and animals would have plenty to eat, and also the beasts in the stable should receive extra rations on Christmas Day so that all creatures could join in the joyous feast.

One story that epitomizes Francis’ lived understanding of Incarnation is his sermon to the birds. There can be no more ubiquitous image of St. Francis than that of him surrounded by birds – whether it is paintings, statues or birdbaths – Francis seems to always be in the company of a bird or two. This image is rooted in St. Bonaventure’s Life of St. Francis. At one point in his life Francis struggled with his vocation – should devote his life fully to prayer or continue traveling and preaching the gospel? He asked his two most trusted colleagues, Brother Sylvester and St. Clare. Both responded that they believed God wanted Francis to continue proclaiming the gospel. Upon hearing their advice, Bonaventure reports that Francis immediately took to the roads.

What comes next is the interesting part. According to Bonaventure, Francis soon “came to a spot where a large flock of birds of various kinds had come together. When God’s saint saw the, he quickly ran to the spot and greeted them as if they were endowed with reason… He went right up to them and solicitously urged them to listen to the word of God, saying, ‘Oh birds, my brothers and sisters, you have a great obligation to praise your Creator, who clothed you in feathers and gave you wings to fly with, provided you with pure air and cares for you without any worry on your part.’…The birds showed their joy in a remarkable fashion: They began to stretch their necks, extend their wings, open their beaks and gaze at him attentively. He went through their midst with amazing fervor of spirit, brushing against them with his tunic. Yet none of them moved from the spot until the man of God made the sign of the cross and gave them permission to leave; then they all flew away together.’

What St. Francis teaches us in this story is that the whole of creation deserves respect and that all created beings ought to be invited to praise God along with us humans. He addressed the birds as brothers and sisters – as equals, not as subjects to be dominated. In this, Francis has given us a theology that invites us to be servants and caretakers of creation, rather than a theology of domination and exploitation. I believe this to be the biggest blessing of St. Francis day. That a voice of faith and wisdom has traveled down through the centuries to lead us in right paths of action as we face the environmental crises of global warming and overconsumption.

In a few minutes Nancy Snow will present on behalf of the All Souls Environmental Committee the results of the pledges to reduce our environmental footprint and change our habits and consumption patterns.

It is my fervent prayer that we will all find inspiration not only in the life and example of St. Francis, but also in our own accomplishments – and that our inspiration once kindled will lead us to live simply and incarnationally, and dare I say – cheekily.

AMEN