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A Reflection on St. Francis at the Blessing of the Animals Celebration by The Rev. Hartshorn Murphy St. Francis was born in 1181 or 82, the son of Pietro di Bernardone, a wealthy cloth merchant and Pica, a French maiden. His father was away on business when Francis was born and his mother baptized him Giovanni, naming him after John the Baptist because she hoped he would become a great religious leader. His father, returning home, was furious because this was not the life he wanted for his son and he called his newborn child Francesco because of his admiration for all things French. As a youth, Francesco - or Francis in English - was a carouser who spent his life in harmless revelry. His goal was to become a troubadour and a writer of French poetry. In 1201, he went forth to war in a fruitless attempt to win military glory. Held captive for a year, his fate was to become just another ransomed prisoner of war. Returning home, he sought to return to his carefree life but suffered from ill health which in turn led him to a spiritual crisis. Withdrawing from his former love of sports and partying, Francis spent hours in lonely places asking God for direction for his life. In the Church of San Damiano, Francis had a mystical vision in which the Icon of the Crucified Christ came alive and said three times: "Francis, Francis, go and repair my house which, as you can see, is falling into ruin." Taking the message literally, Francis sold his horse and some of his father's best cloth to raise money to help in the rebuilding of the dilapidated sanctuary. Furious, Francis' father beat him and hauled him before the Bishop to be chastised. Unrepentant, Francis renounced his father and his station in life, stripped off the clothes his father had given him and donned the rough garments worn by the poor and became a vagabond preacher. In 1209, Francis heard a sermon on the text from Matthew in which Jesus sends forth his disciples on a missionary journey. "Take no gold, nor silver, nor copper in your belts, no bag for your journey, nor two tunics, nor sandals, nor a staff; for the laborer deserves his food." Convicted by these words, Francis dedicated himself to a life of poverty; traveling without encumbrance and preaching peace and repentance. The most significant event in the life of Francis came when he encountered the Crucified Christ in a leper on the road. The disfigured man, eyes cast down, rang the bell he wore around his neck and shouted out, as required, "unclean!" We are told that after throwing alms at the leper, as was his custom, that on this particular day he suddenly stopped, jumped off his horse, ran to the leper and embraced him and, St. Bonaventure adds, kissed him full on the lips. He did this because he saw Jesus present in the stinking, rotting flesh of the leper. Francis wrote in his testament that once he became acquainted with lepers, that what had previously nauseated him became a source of spiritual and physical consolation for him; that which he had despised became a source of blessing. What did Francis really see in the leper? Perhaps it was himself - that part of himself that he usually tried to avoid recognizing. By embracing that darkness, he discovered that it had lost its power and became a means of grace. Within a year, Francis had attracted 11 followers whom he called the "lesser brothers" or Friars Minor in acknowledgement that they were the least of God's servants. They traveled together along the roads, singing God's praises and calling people to a new life. Three stories about Francis. In 1220, Francis used real animals to create a living Nativity scene by which worshippers could make use of all their senses - esp. sight - to contemplate the birth of Christ. The manger - the straw filled feeding trough which sat between an ox and a donkey - was used as the altar for the Christmas Mass. Our use of Christmas créches in our homes today comes from Francis. On one occasion, while traveling down the road, he noticed that the trees along the way were filled with birds. He halted the procession and preached to them saying: "My sister birds, you owe much to God, and you must always and in everyplace give praise to Him; for He has given you freedom to wing through the sky and He has clothed you…you neither sow nor reap, and God feeds you and gives you rivers and fountains for your thirst, and mountains and valleys for shelter, and tall trees for your nests. And although you neither know how to spin or weave, God dresses you and your children, for the Creator loves you greatly and He blesses you abundantly. Therefore… always seek to praise God." We honor this story with garden statuary of Francis with receptacles for birdseed. On another occasion, he learned of a wolf terrorizing the village of Gubbio. Francis ascended the hills and found the vicious animal, made the sign of the cross over him and commanded the wolf to come to him and to hurt no one any longer. He said: "Brother Wolf, you do much harm in these parts and you have done great evil. All these people accuse you and curse you. But brother wolf, I would like to make peace between you and the people." Francis led the wolf into town and told the townspeople that the wolf has "done evil out of hunger" and made the people agree to feed the wolf regularly and in return, the wolf would no longer prey upon their flocks. It was said that Francis, to show the townspeople that the wolf would no longer bother them, baptized the wolf. We honor this story by blessing, with holy water, our pets today. Two years before his death, on Holy Cross Day, during a 40 day fast, Francis had another vision. His biographer wrote: "Suddenly, he saw a vision of a seraph, a 6-winged angel on a cross. This angel gave him the gift of the five wounds of Christ." Francis tried to hide the stigmata, but the wounds never healed until his death on Oct. 3, 1226. Legend says that on his deathbed, Francis thanked his donkey for carrying him throughout his life and his donkey wept. Francis is the most admired but least imitated of all the saints. His life was one dedicated to an embrace of simplicity and radical poverty in order to exercise greater charity. It was a life which saw the glory of God reflected in the beauty of creation and its creatures. His message was simple and direct: God created the world good - indeed, very good - and it is the duty and joy of all Gods' creatures to praise God and it is our joy, as humans, to be the blessed recipients of creation's bounty and to be stewards of its riches. But most provocatively, this wild vagabond who walked through life with a light step and who, like Jesus, incarnated God's love, showed us that it is possible to be happy without things. And the presence of a happy pauper in our midst is a bold attack on everything we, in our consumerist culture, hold dear. We are convicted by his life. Let us pray. Heavenly Father, you gave your servant Francis insight and courage to cherish every human being. We feel too weak and uncertain - too self absorbed - to follow in his footsteps. Yet we pray that you might help us to respond to the challenge of creating peace in your world and to celebrate all persons - and all created things - with compassion and love. We ask this in Jesus' name. Amen. Copyright © 2008 St. Augustine by-the-Sea
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