Genesis 2: 18-25 Canticle of the Sun Rev 5: 11-14 Matt 6: 25-29
Today we come to the end of our Season of Creation, and we celebrate the life and witness of St Francis of Assisi; the patron saint of animals, ecology and the environment. We began the season with John’s sermon on the Earth. He concluded that sermon with a beautiful quote from Pope Francis, so it seems fitting to begin this sermon with an equally wonderful quote from the same. In his encyclical on the environment, thePope writes this tribute to St Francis:
I do not want to write this encyclical without turning to that attractive and compelling figure whose name I took as my guide and inspiration… I believe St Francis is the example par excellence of care for the vulnerable, and of an integral ecology lived out joyfully and authentically … He was particularly concerned for God’s creation and for the poor and outcast… He shows us how inseparable the bond is between concern for nature, justice for the poor, commitment to society and inner peace.
This is the third consecutive year we have celebrated the feast of this Saint, often described as being the most popular and admired…but probably the least imitated.
When we have celebrated this great saint in previous years, I have told you about his upbringing and his refusal of the family wealth. I have spoken about his hearing from God in a rundown chapel in San Damiano, where he received the call to ‘repair my church which is falling into ruins’…and the building projects that ensued. I have explained how he rejected his inheritance, publicly, nakedly and even violently at the hands of his rich father, and then went on to unintentionally form a monastic community of followers around him. And these are remarkable and admirable things about this saint. If these things pique your interest do go and read about them for yourself because this time around, I am captured by an account written by Dr Frances MacKay in her article entitled, Saint Francis; Saint as Holy Fool.
I think she would’ve liked Christabel’s explorations of humanity, because she writes, ‘I find myself wondering about the man behind the saint’, and I do too. And she goes on to explore his humanity and his rise (or stumble) towards sainthood.
She explains how grounded Francis was in his own humanity, how one of his brothers overheard him in prayer one night, asking over and over, ‘Who are you O God, and who am I?’ She says, ‘Like other mystics, he understood that the search for God and the search for his deepest self are two sides to the one coin.’
Who are you, O God, and who am I?
This was a question Francis asked his God throughout his life. It held answers that shaped his life and ministry and religious order. It is the basis upon which he penned that glorious canticle we just read together and that beautiful poetry of becoming a channel of God’s peace. This question, and his exploration of the answers, seeped into his bones. It meant he could see his place in all of creation; that God is all powerful, all good, worthy of all praise. And that we – the entire cosmos – belong to God and are siblings together in that huge family of creation; the sun is his brother; the moon is our sister; wind, air, clouds, storms, water, fire – they are all our siblings and we, and they, reflect something of God’s glory.
Who are you O God? You are the creator, the source of divinity, worthy of service.
And who am I? I am part of your family; your child, one another’s sibling. I am one who praises and worships. I enjoy creation. I revel in the beauty and power and strength and value and colour of all you have made, and I am sustained by it.
Who are you O God? You are the one who is Love
And who am I? I am one who forgives for love
Who are you O God? You are most high
And who am I? I am peaceful, I am happy, I am following you. I am thankful.
Francis’ two-fold question was everything. It was all he needed to go through life. Knowing God, and knowing himself in relation to God directed all he did. It was these two questions that took him from his lofty ambition of being a knight and a troubadour, carried him through sickness that brought him near to death. These questions took him to the feet of lepers who he kissed and motivated him to embrace the marginalised – they were his siblings too.
And then, on 4th October 1226, he embraced the one he called Sister Bodily Death, dying, naked and on the rubbish tip outside the town walls, just as he requested. He had lived with those questions – who are you, O God, and who am I – throughout his life. He allowed them to mould and inspire and shape him. And then, just as he took the hand of Sister Death, he told his brothers, ‘I have done what is mine to do, now you must do yours’. And so left behind this legacy for others to consider and act upon.
Who are you O God?
Who am i?
I have done what is mine – now you must do yours
Those words are challenging. And I hope they speak to our next new venture that begins today, as we take Church to the Beach, as we extend hands of blessing – just like Francis did – to animals and humans and as we pray together for peace in the world.
Who are you O God? You are the creator of the cosmos and all created things, the King of peace.
Who am I? who are we? We are God’s children, created to praise and worship.
I have done what is mine – now you must do yours. What is ours to do?
Dr MacKay describes Francis as a holy fool, quoting Francis himself who said ‘The Lord told me what he wanted. He wanted me to be a new fool for the world’.
As we consider what is ours to do, those words spoke to me so clearly.
‘Holy fools’, she says, ‘tear down illusions, illuminate what is new, are subversive, at one with ourselves and the cosmos, being unselfconsciously who we are, not trying to conceal it under some persona designed to impress. The holy fool is single-minded and wholehearted’.
Who are you O God? You are good.
And who are we? We are holy fools, ready to follow you whatever the cost. And wherever it takes us.
Francis did what was his to do. Now it is our turn. Amen.
Holy Adventures 