The Feast of Saint Francis

Today—World Communion Sunday—left us with a dilemma: we determined that there is no completely safe way to share communion at the church, and we can’t do share it online either. Pondering this, I was reminded that today is also the Feast of Saint Francis. Francis, famous for preaching to the birds, is the inspiration behind “communion” for our avian friends—a liturgy and seed offering. Those worshiping in person will receive a small bag of bird seed (in a compostable plastic bag), while those at home are invited to gather seeds or some other food item that the birds might enjoy. You will find the liturgy near the end of this service. Thanks this week to Jenny, Cor, and Heather!

PRELUDE: “In the Evening” (Hofmann)

OPENING PRAYER

Loving God,
you speak to us in so many ways:
in the song of a bird,
in the babbling of a brook,
in the voices of our friends,
in the warmth of an embrace,
in the songs we sing,
and in the stories of the Bible.
Speak to us as we worship.
Help us to hear your voice
and follow the way of Jesus.
Amen.

HYMN OF PRAISE: “Come, we that love the Lord”

Come, we that love the Lord,
and let our joys be known,
join in a song with sweet accord,
and thus surround the throne.

Let those refuse to sing
who never knew our God;
but children of the heavenly King
may speak their joys abroad.

The hill of Zion yields
a thousand sacred sweets
before we reach the heavenly fields
or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound,
and every tear be dry;
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground,
to fairer worlds on high.

PRAYER OF CONFESSION

God of all creation,
we confess our inability to tread lightly on the earth.
Our use of resources,
the lives we live,
have done harm to our earthly home.
Help us, Lord, to repent,
and to find new ways to interact
with the world you gave us.
Lend us your mercy and show us your way:
that we may travel as lightly
as the birds of the air,
and dwell as effortlessly
and the flowers of the field.
Amen.

ASSURANCE OF PARDON

God will give us what we need:
strength for today,
hope for tomorrow,
and forgiveness
for all that is past.
Amen.

SPECIAL MUSIC: “Eternal Christ, you rule” (Damon)

FIRST READING: Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God;
and the vault of the sky reveals God’s handiwork.
One day speaks to another,
and night shares its knowledge with night,
and this without speech or language;
their voices are not heard.
But their sound goes out to all the lands,
their words to the ends of the earth.

In the heavens God has pitched a tent for the sun
which comes out like a bridegroom from under the canopy,
like an athlete eager to run the race.
Its rising is at one end of the sky,
it runs its course to the other,
and there is nothing that is hidden from its heat.

God’s law is perfect, refreshing the soul;
God’s instruction is sure,
giving wisdom to the simple;
God’s precepts are right, rejoicing the heart;
God’s commandment is pure
giving light to the eyes;
God’s fear is clean, enduring forever;
God’s judgements are true,
every one of them righteous;
more desirable than gold, even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey,
pure honey from the comb.

By them is your servant warned;
for in keeping them there is great reward.
But who can discern unwitting sins?
O cleanse me from my secret faults.
Keep your servant also from presumptuous sins,
lest they get the better of me.
Then shall I be clean and innocent of great offence.

SECOND READING: Philippians 3.4b-14

If someone else thinks they have reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: 5 circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; 6 as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.

7 But whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. 8 What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ 9 and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in[a] Christ—the righteousness that comes from God on the basis of faith. 10 I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 11 and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead.

12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

HYMN: “When I survey the wondrous cross”

When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ, my God:
all the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to his blood.

See from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were a present far too small:
love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all.

REFLECTION

He preached to the birds, he befriended a wolf, and he rebuilt ruined chapels.

Like many saints, he was a reformer, directing the church back to founding principles: repentance, care for the sick, and a call to poverty. His movement, the Friars Minor, grew from the strength of his personality and the compelling example he set. He was no revolutionary, and he never sought to break with the church—something that disappointed his critics. He is perhaps the best known saint after Mary herself, and certainly among the most loved.

Francis began his life with wealth and position. His father was a successful cloth merchant in Assisi, his mother a French noblewoman. And Francis lived into this wealth. He had a reputation as a wild young man, a rogue with deep pockets and easy charm, which made him very popular.

The first change to this life of ease began in war. Enlisting to fight—some say to demonstrate his love for luxurious costumes—he was captured in battle and held for a year. Finally ransomed by his father, he returned a changed person. He began to spend less time at business and more time in prayer, mostly outside Assisi in small chapels. He developed an affinity for the poor, and when he went on pilgrimage to Rome, he spent much of his time around St. Peter’s with local beggars.

Returning to Assisi, he continued to pray in remote chapels. On one occasion, Christ spoke to him and said “Francis, Francis, go and repair My house which, as you can see, is falling into ruins.” He took this direction literally, rebuilding ruined chapels and gathering fellow-minded followers.

His father, you can imagine, was not impressed. Fearing that all this wealth would one day be spent on these projects, his father sued to disinherit Francis. The climax of the case saw Francis renounce his father, and famously disrobe, returning his clothing. As his local fame increased, so did his followers.

And Francis soon understood the command to rebuild the church as metaphor. He directed his followers to care for the poor, tend to lepers, and share a message of repentance, brotherly love, and peace. He and his followers rejected possessions, survived (in the early days) by begging, and saw themselves as standing against the surrounding culture.

Perhaps this is at the heart of his lasting appeal. Like the hippies of the 1960s, Francis and his group defied the dominant culture. They wore simple tunics, and went barefoot—earning them the name pazzo, meaning madmen. Labelled fools, Francis called himself “a new kind of fool.” He spoke about himself and his followers as Jongleurs de Dieu (which means something like “jesters for God”). And together they were also referred to as poverello (little poor ones) for their refusal to accumulate possessions.*

All of this points to a departure, a turn from one life to another life altogether. It defines the life of Francis, and it defines the life of St. Paul. We hear this in our reading from Philippians: Paul’s recitation at the beginning, his former c.v., and then the conversion that follows. Listen once more to the source of his early confidence: “circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for righteousness based on the law, faultless.”

But his confident recounting of the past is then transformed into new confidence in the present:

But whatever were gains to me, I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I now consider them garbage…

In both Francis and Paul we see the same pattern: renunciation, redirection, and rededication. They discard comfort (Francis) and confidence (Paul) for the sake of Christ. They redirect their effort to care for the poor (Francis) and the poor at heart (Francis and Paul). And they rededicate themselves to the gospel of Jesus Christ, building a church (Paul) or rebuilding a church (Francis) to reflect God’s glory. Whatever was gain is now considered loss for Christ Jesus.

About now you may be wondering how this tiny temple to Methodism (Central) ended up marking a feast day on the Catholic calendar and engaging in so much hagiography—recalling the lives of the saints. It turns out that Francis is also venerated by Anglicans—our ecclesiastical forebears—and most other traditions too. Oddly, scholars can find no mention of Francis in the writings of John Wesley, strange because they had much in common. They shared the same concern for the poor, the same desire to preach Christ in the open air—directly to the people—and the same desire to rebuild the church. They even shared a love for God’s creatures, Wesley preaching against cruelty to animals.**

What these reformers share is a desire to return to the primitive church. Reading scripture, considering the relationship between Christ and his disciples, and trying to find the heart of the message—these are the hallmarks of the reformer’s project. Time and trouble create a complicated church, and the task of the reformer is to return the church to first principles: forgiveness, care for the vulnerable, and peace—peace between people, and between people and the earth.

And this last point, perhaps, explains Francis’ lasting appeal. Each generation can find in Francis the simple and unifying message they need in troubled times. In the 60s it was an end to war, and the sense of sisterhood and brotherhood of all peoples. Today, it’s the environment, and a saint that can bless our need to care for creation, to guide us back to a peaceful relationship with the one Francis called Sister Mother Earth. To this end, I want to conclude with the story of the Wolf of Gubbio.

Fear of wolves lived in the hearts of many in the middle ages, and none more than rural people. Wolves were a threat to livestock, and a threat to the lone traveller, particularly at night. While Francis was living near Gubbio, the townspeople were contending with one such wolf. The town, in effect, was under siege. Attempts were made to kill the wolf, but to no avail.

Francis, deciding on a new approach, departed the town walls, and found the wolf near its lair. Making the sign of the cross, he spoke to the wolf, offering a simple exchange. Past wrongs would be forgiven, and food shared, if the wolf left the people and their animals alone. The wolf extended a paw and Francis took it. It is said that the people befriended the wolf, and mourned when it died, even (according to tradition) burying the wolf in the churchyard. All of this, of course, was regarded as legend, until 1872, when the skeleton of a large wolf was discovered near the outer wall of the church.

Knowing Christ Jesus, understanding his way, we can live new lives of love and mercy. Knowing Christ Jesus, understanding his way, we can live differently on the earth. And knowing Christ Jesus, understanding his way, we can rebuild the church for each new generation.

May God bless us and the world God made. Amen.

A LITURGY FOR THE FEAST OF SAINT FRANCIS

God be with you.
And also with you.
Lift up your hearts.
We lift them up to God.
Let us give thanks to the God Most High.
It is right to give thanks and praise.

Today we mark the feast of St. Francis,
beloved of God, and worthy of praise.
He followed God’s command to rebuild the church,
to bless the poor, and become poor—
that the riches of God might extend to all.

Holy One, you inspired Francis
to walk in the way of Christ:
to love others,
and to care for the least of your children.
He saw Christ in others,
and he saw divinity in the natural world.

In this way he praised you, as we praise you:

Holy, holy, holy Lord,
God of power and might,
heaven and earth are full of your glory.
Hosanna in the highest.

Embracing heaven and earth,
he named them family,
praising the God he saw all around:
Brother Sun and Sister Moon,
Brother Wind and Sister Water,
Brother Fire and Sister Earth.

Surrounded, as he was, by your glory,
Francis preached to the birds,
befriended the wolf,
and gave voice to earth.
He found you, God, in glade and forest,
on crashing waves, and on the pilgrims’ path.

In time, he developed the wounds of Christ,
a sacred mystery we struggle to comprehend.
Yet in his very being,
Francis proclaimed the Good News:

Dying, Christ destroyed our death,
rising, Christ restored our life:
reassuring, Christ will come again.

Send your Spirit on these seeds, O God,
that like Francis we might preach to the birds,
embrace all creatures, and find in them your kingdom.
Bless our homes and families,
Strengthen our fellowship,
and teach us, like Francis,
to live with love and mercy.
Amen.

THE LORD’S PRAYER

Our Father who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread;
and forgive us our trespasses
as we forgive those who trespass against us;
and lead us not into temptation
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
and the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever. Amen.

HYMN: “I feel the winds of God today”

I feel the winds of God today;
today my sail I lift,
though heavy oft with drenching spray
and torn with many a rift;
if hope but light the water’s crest,
and Christ my bark will use,
I’ll seek the seas at his behest,
and brave another cruise.

It is the wind of God that dries
my vain regretful tears,
until with braver thoughts shall rise
the purer, brighter years;
if cast on shores of selfish ease
or pleasure I should be,
O let me feel your freshening breeze,
and I’ll put back to sea.

If ever I forget your love
and how that love was shown,
lift high the blood-red flag above;
it bears your name alone.
Great pilot of my onward way,
you will not let me drift.
I feel the winds of God today;
today my sail I lift.

BLESSING

Now may the God of peace make you holy in every way,
and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless
until our Lord Jesus Christ comes again. Amen.
—1 Thessalonians 5:23

God be with you till we meet again;
loving counsels guide, uphold you,
with a shepherd’s care enfold you;
God be with you till we meet again.