Matthew 6:25-34
March 29, 2009
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, "What will we eat?” or "What will we drink?” or "What will we wear?” For it is the Gentiles who strive for all these things; and indeed your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But strive first for the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today's trouble is enough for today.
Francis was two years away from death. He was in terrible pain and terrible health. He suffered from tuberculosis, malaria, possibly hepatitis, and he could barely see because of his trachoma—an eye infection that inflames the underside of the eyelids, causing tremendous pain and sensitivity when opened. He had devoted his life to serving God, and this was the thanks he got—to be in constant pain, an old man at only age 42. How would you respond if you were he? Would you be happy or bitter? He responded the only way he knew how. He started to write a song of praise to God.
You are probably familiar with the thoughts he wrote down, since his words were the basis of one of our best-known hymns, “All Creatures of Our God and King:”
All creatures of our God and King
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!
O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
Lift up your voice and with us sing,
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Thou burning sun with golden beam,
Thou silver moon with softer gleam!
O praise Him! O praise Him!
Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!
This famous song, which Francis called “Canticle to Brother Son,” expressed perfectly his faith. He wasn’t bitter. He was awe-struck. Despite his pain, illness, and suffering, he found joy throughout his life. His condition didn’t deter him. He was going to find God in everything, everywhere, and at every time.
When Francis died two years later, it became apparent that in twenty short years he had transformed Christianity. He died in his favorite little church, Santa Maria degli Angeli, which was only two miles from the little church where his mission all began, the church of San Damiano. After he died, thousands came to see his body, where they saw for the first time the marks that Francis had first received two years earlier, marks that he had tried desperately to hide from others—the stigmata.
Two years earlier he had awoken one morning to find holes pierced in his feet, hands, and side, just like Jesus. And these were wounds that never quite healed or went away. He was embarrassed by them, thinking that people would interpret them as signs of pride that he had given to himself to make himself seem special. To hide them he began to wear shoes rather than sandals, and wrapped bands of cloth around his hands. Soon after his death hundreds reported miracles and healings after praying in Francis’ name. Within two years, the pope, Gregory IX canonized Francis and made him saint, which was a rarity in a process that typically takes decades, generations, or even centuries to happen.
St. Francis was a remarkable man. He was born rich and strove to be poor so that he could serve the poor. He gave up life in grand house to live under the stars. He was a nobody who ended up transforming everybody, including bishops and three popes: innocent III, Honorius, & Gregory IX. He changed Christianity forever. This is not what anyone had expected of Francesco di Bernardone as a child, teen, or young adult. Let me tell you a bit about St. Francis.
Francis was born of a wealthy Italian merchant, Pietro di Bernardone and his French wife, Pica. He was born as Europe was beginning to emerge out of the Dark Ages. For almost 400 years Europe had been in a fugue. Then, as the beginnings of the Renaissance emerged, the feudal system started breaking down, and a middle class of merchants and craftsmen was emerging. Francis’ father was one of these merchants who was becoming very wealthy from the trade of cloth. The result was the Francis received one of the best educations of the time, learning to speak French and Latin, in addition to the medieval Italian and dialect of Assisi he already knew. Also, Francis was accustomed to traveling with his father around Europe purchasing fine fabrics, so he was becoming worldly for that age.
Francis was accustomed to a life of wealth. As he grew through his teenage years, he became best known for being a partier, spending much of his time drinking, playing cards, and chasing women. He was being groomed by his father to also become a cloth merchant. And Francis wasn’t half-bad at it, although his heart was only half in it.
His life changed as events in Europe changed. With the death of the emperor of Germany, who was also the emperor over most of Italy, a power vacuum arose. The small cities of Italy began to vie for power. Perugia, a small city fifteen miles from Assisi, and its traditional enemy, wanted to subdue Assisi under their authority. So the men of Assisi prepared for battle. The idea of battle for a valiant cause inspired Francis. He had heard wonderful tales of King Arthur and the knights of the round table, and Francis wanted to become one of these chivalrous knights. So off he rode to war, dressed from head-to-toe in mail-link armor, shield, sword, and adorned with a red tunic. From all accounts, Francis fought well but was eventually captured and thrown into the dungeons of Perugia, which were crafted from the dank, sewage-filled ancient catacombs of that city—a remnant of Roman times. Francis languished in prison for over a year. It was probably there that he caught tuberculosis. Normally the Perugians would have killed him along with the other captives, but his armor and tunic saved his life. The Perugians looked at its quality and realized that he was from wealth. They decided to ransom him to the Assisians, along with about fifteen other prisoners. It took almost a year to negotiate terms for their release.
When Francis was released, he was very ill, but also changed, although it took another year or more for the change in his soul to really take effect in his mind and body. On the outside he looked like he always had, and he acted like he always had, but away from everyone else he cultivated a secret life of devotion to God. It started with prayer. He began to pray, and even secreted away to some caves on Mt. Subasio, outside of Assisi, where, in solitude and silence, he sought God’s guidance.
Also, his attitude toward the poor, and especially toward lepers, changed. He had always feared the poor and been repulsed by lepers. The lepers of his day were secluded and were forced to wear gray rags from head-to-toe. When they begged, they could not come within 20 feet of another person, and would have to leave their bowls on the ground and step away. In addition, if they were traveling, they had to carry wooden clappers to clap as they walked, warning others that lepers were approaching. Francis was revolted at the sight of them, yet he now became fascinated with them.
On a particular trip to Rome, he decided that he wanted to know what it was like to be poor. So he traded clothes with a beggar, and spent three days in Rome begging on the street. When he returned home, he secretly took money and food and gave it to the lepers. Also, he spent time visiting a small, run-down church in the hills named San Damiano.
Still, on the outside Francis looked and acted like the old Francis. He was still the life of the party, dressed in fine clothes, surrounded by men and women. When another battle was ready to be waged between Assisi and Perugia, Francis signed on. On the eve of battle, Francis heard God’s voice in a dream saying to him, “Re-build my church.” He thought the voice was referring to San Damiano, so he promised to give to the church when he returned. The day the army was to set out, Francis heard the voice again while he was awake, asking him which is more important to serve, the master or the servant. Francis responded, “the master.” The voice responded, “Then why do you go out to serve the servants.” Francis interpreted this to mean that he was not to go battle, but was rebuild the church of San Damiano.
A few weeks later, while his father was traveling, Francis stole the inventory of cloth from his father’s warehouse, sold it, and took the gold to the priest of San Damiano. The priest didn’t trust that Francis was serious, so he refused the gold. Francis, not knowing what else to do, threw the sack of gold up onto a high windowsill, where it remained for months.
When his father returned, he was furious, and demanded that Francis return the money. Francis refused. His father then locked him into the basement for a month or more. His mother finally released him, and Francis returned to San Damiano to continue working on the church. Pietro, looking for help to recover his money and drive sense into his son, went to the local bishop, Bishop Guido (bishops at the time also had the authority act as judges where church and local issues intersected), asking for a trial to get his son to return the gold. Francis showed up for the trial and did something startling. He walked into the courtyard naked, put down his clothes in a pile before the bishop, placed the sack of gold atop it, and declared that he was no longer Francis, child of Pietro de Bernardone, but Francis, child of God. Despite the crowd’s shock, the bishop sensed that he was witnessing something special. He decided at that moment to support Francis in whatever he was planning to do. He recognized that this young man had become a man of deep faith and willingness to serve God.
From that moment onward, Francis lived life as a beggar. He begged each day for his food, trusting in God’s providence for his life. He devoted himself to the work of rebuilding the church of San Damiano. He also began to preach about God’s presence and love in the world. There was something different, something authentic, about Francis’ preaching. He not only preached a simple faith of trust in God and God’s love in the world, but he used everyday examples culled from everyday life. People felt like they were really hearing God’s word when Francis spoke.
Soon others were coming to him, asking if they could join him. Some were his partying friends, recognizing a call in their lives to join Francis, ome were strangers. Francis and his followers completed their work on San Damiano, and set about rebuilding another church, Santa Maria degli Angeli, about two miles away. In the meantime, Francis also dedicated himself to a ministry of caring for lepers, not only finding food for them, but tending to their wounds.
Slowly Francis’ fame spread. More and more men asked to be his followers, and even women approached him about starting an order based on his ministry. Francis approached the bishop and the pope, and asked if he could start an order based on his vision of living according to God’s providence and caring for the poor. He was granted permission, and so he created an order of friars for men, sisters for the women (under the guidance of Clare, who eventually became St. Clare of Assisi after her death), and a lay order for those committed to work and family life, but seeking to contribute to the work of Francis and his followers.
Francis lived a life of miracles. For example, there is a report that Francis, when dealing with a leper who had lost all hope in God, took water filled with herbs, and bathed the hands and body of the leper, while kissing the leper all over. Afterwards, the leper’s hands, feet, and face healed, and the disease no longer spread throughout his body. Francis is also said to have been able to talk with animals, especially birds, who followed him as he travelled. It is also said that at his death, a particular raven, which had become Francis’ companion, had followed the procession of Francis’ dead body from Santa Maria degli Angeli to San Damiano, before dying itself.
Francis was a man of peace, who believed that God wanted peace among all people. Thus, Francis sought to be a knight of peace, substituting faith for fighting. For instance, while Francis remained captivated with the vision of the Crusades his whole life, he sought a new Crusade of peace. Looking historically at his age, he was born around the time that Jerusalem fell back into the hands of the Muslims. Early in the 12th century, the Christians had captured the Holy Lands and held onto it for about eighty years. Then the Muslim sultan, Saladin, recaptured the Holy Lands. After he died, his brother, Al-Kamil, became sultan and ruler of the Muslim empire gathered under Saladin.
During the fifth Crusade of 1221,in which the Christians tried to recapture the Holy Lands through Egypt, Francis felt the call to join the forces. Being God’s knight, he believed in the power of conversion, and that he was called to convert the sultan of the Muslims, Al-Kamil. Francis landed in Egypt, joining the troops as they laid siege to the Egyptian city of Damietta, a city in the Nile Delta.
Francis tended to the hurt, sick, and wounded, and when the Crusader army suffered a massive defeat, saw his opportunity to convert the sultan. Accompanied by one of his followers, he walked out of the Crusader camp, across the battlefield, and toward the Muslim camp. He was immediately captured and almost killed on the spot. Looking at him more closely, the soldiers finally concluded that a man so simple, so prayerful, and so filthy was no threat to the Muslim army. They took him to Al-Kamil. For three days, Al-Kamil spoke with Francis, and even summoned his own theologians to engage in talks. Apparently he was much taken with Francis, and told Francis that he was inspired by his apparent holiness and faith. He also told Francis that despite Francis’ inspiring talk, that he could not become a Christian because he would lose both is position as sultan and his life. Francis was returned to the Crusader camp, but before he was, Al-Kamir gave Francis the right to walk through any Muslim lands to preach, without threat of beating, imprisonment, or execution.
After wandering the Holy Lands for a while, Francis returned to Assisi, where he returned to his ministry to the poor and sick. By this time Francis himself was terribly sick, and the tachoma, the disease of the eye that he probably got while in Egypt, progressed to the point that he could hardly see. Still, his infirmity did not prevent him from ministering. He became an inspired example not only for the Christians of his time, but even for us today. Francis helped Christianity recover its core and foundation of love of God and of God’s creation, the need to care for the poor and hurting, and the need to serve God in everything.
So what was it, specifically, that Francis emphasized. First, Francis rejected materialism, and emphasized a concern for the poor and creation. I’m not sure how Francis would consider our culture today. He would certainly look at our excesses and ask why we cared so little for the poor and the environment. Francis believed that we should care for all creation: animals, plants, and people. He did not see a distinction between them. He believed that God had blessed us all, and that we had an obligation to return thanks to God by caring for all creation.
Second, Francis believed in constant prayer, faith, and humility. He believed that God created us for a relationship with God, and that relationship of love could only be manifested through out constant prayer, willingness to act in faith in everything, and a humility that recognized the greatness of God and the smallness of us.
Finally, Francis believed that we all had a constant calling to restore the church, and the primacy of faith, to life. He believed that neglect of faith and the church destroyed the soul of the individual and of the world. He saw faith and worship as intricately linked. I believe that he would look at those today who say that they are spiritual but not religious as fooling themselves. He would say that a spirituality that is not practiced in worship and a community is self-indulgent and selfish. He believed that a thriving church could give rise to a thriving faith, and that at thriving faith could give rise to a thriving church.
Few people have had the impact Francis had in such a short life. Francis influenced thousands to put God first in an age of growing materialism. He restored the emphasis on concern for the poor by becoming poor. He restored an emphasis on prayer and service by living a life of prayer and service.
The question I’d like to leave you with is this: what can you learn from the life of St. Francis?
Amen.
