Good morning everyone!
I’m glad to be here with you this morning, to share a bit of the Franciscan tradition and my thoughts on today’s readings as a Third Order Franciscan Novice as we celebrate St Francis of Assisi.
But first, I’d like to start with a little confession:
I can be a real JERK some times.
I’m glad I’m not seeing everyone nodding their heads in agreement. But it’s true. I can be a jerk some times. And that is both ‘okay’ and ‘not okay’ at the same time.
We all know someone in our lives, whether it’s at work or in church or wherever, that is a jerk sometimes. Or a little passive aggressive. Territorial. Unreliable or untrustworthy. Maybe outright belligerent or hostile. But if we’re honest with ourselves, there’s a good chance each of us is one of those things to someone, too.
Fortunately, God loves us all. Even the ones with a bad temper.
No one is called to be perfect because no one can be. We should love ourselves and each other despite our flaws. But at the same time, recognizing human faults should not be met with apathy or accommodation of negative behaviour. That is not necessarily the loving thing to do. To use a human example, I think of my children. I would never want to tie my love for them to success in school. I love them regardless of their grades. But at the same time, I don’t want less for them than they are capable of. If I really believe they are capable of better, then the loving thing to do is to encourage and push them to do so. In much the same way, it may not be any more the loving thing to do in a community to simply accept poor behaviour, than it would be to expel someone. Suggesting they simply can’t do better is denying their potential. So, we love the person, but should not accommodate or enable a pattern of negative behaviour.
It’s also been said that life is a journey, and on that journey we will all fall down sometimes. But falling into a mud puddle is no excuse to stay in it, either. You get up and get going again. The good news is that many of the saints have experienced the mud puddles of life and gone on to do the work that God set before them. St Peter denied Christ and still became a pillar of the new church. St Paul persecuted the church horribly, but was called to turn and work for Christ as the Apostle to gentiles.
St Francis himself lived a life of excess, a brash and flamboyant playboy son of a wealthy cloth merchant. His position in society led him to war, seeking to become a knight, a title that would bring special prestige to his family. But over time, God called him from one extreme to the other. Francis would repent of his former way of life and commit himself to living a life so literally close to the Gospel that he renounced his family fortune and lived a life of voluntary poverty. His place in life was to be little, poor and vulnerable. And in this radical change of life, he would unintentionally become a force for renewal and change within the church.
Over time, others saw the change in Francis and joined him on his journey in radical love for God. What started as a handful of companions, quickly became a large religious order. And so, the man who sought to be the little one, without power or control, made a lasting impact on the church even to today.
His love for creation and animals, calling all things brother and sister, is reflected in our traditional blessing of animals as we did this morning.
In observance of another specifically Franciscan tradition, you may have noticed I have taken up the habit of wearing a rosary on my belt. In Francis’ time, there was a great deal of political unrest, and it was common practice for men to wear swords on their travels to defend themselves. The Franciscans, in their radical Gospel life, so fully embraced the non-violence taught by Jesus that they put a rosary on their belt where others wore a sword, as a statement of faith and principle.
One final church tradition that you may not realize has its origin with St Francis is our beloved annual Christmas Creche or Nativity Scene. St Bonaventure in his Life of St. Francis of Assisi tells the story of Francis arranging a manger scene. I’ll read you a portion of that story:
It happened in the third year before his death, that in order to excite the inhabitants of Grecio to commemorate the nativity of the Infant Jesus with great devotion, [St. Francis] determined to keep it with all possible solemnity; and lest he should be accused of lightness or novelty, he asked and obtained the permission of the [Pope]. Then he prepared a manger, and brought hay, and an ox and an ass to the place appointed. The brethren were summoned, the people ran together, the forest resounded with their voices, and that venerable night was made glorious by many and brilliant lights and sonorous psalms of praise.
St Bonaventure goes on in the narrative to tell of a miraculous appearance of a baby in the manger, witnessed by others present. It was from this story that the tradition of arranging a Nativity scene is said to have come.
Francis had a tremendous impact on the church of his day, and the Franciscan tradition remains to this day. And as I read today’s readings in the light of the Franciscan world view of littleness, four Rs come to mind: Repentance, Redemption, Relationship, Rest.
Much of Scripture has to do with failure, all the way from Genesis to Revelation. But it never seems to just dwell on our failure – there is always a call back, a call to repentance and renewal of faith and relationship with God. In today’s reading from Isaiah, the prophet calls: “let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the LORD, that he may have mercy on them, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.”
One of the challenges we face is that this call can lead to legalistic responses, such as with the Pharisees who tried to be perfect enough for God’s love and blessing, in a sort of transactional if-we’re-good-enough-then-God-will-bless-us religion. This is the worldly response to sin and failure: be better than others, do better at following the rules, and get rid of those who can’t. This perspective too easily leads to a self-righteous sense of perfection that kills relationship rather than fostering it.
I think a big part of Jesus’ message was to show just how far off the mark this was. No, on the contrary, he provided a new way of seeing religion, indeed so opposite to the world’s understanding that he declares that God has ‘hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and revealed them to infants’. The good and righteous religious folk of his day couldn’t comprehend why he would eat with ‘sinners and tax collectors’, because they refused to see their own weakness and acknowledge they too had failings. It was unpalatable to their sense of religious purpose and accomplishment. And so his ministry to the bottom of society seemed a waste of time to them.
As for redemption, the world wants very much to succeed on its own, even at this. Because we want to win, not to be redeemed. We do it ourselves without relying on anyone else. And when it comes to electing our government, no one wants a weak and vulnerable person to lead them, they want a strong person. A person of power. But the Cross turns everything on its head. Our salvation is not in a king leading an army to victory, but in one little man from Nazareth. The one rejected as powerless and crucified, the one in whom no one in their right mind would boast.
But as Paul puts it in his letter to the Galatians, the new creation is everything, and we can ultimately boast in nothing but the Cross of Jesus, being crucified to the ways of the world and the world crucified to us.
Good Friday saw the disciples frightened and feeling lost, but Easter Sunday would tell the truth. Victory and redemption are not ours to take by strength.
They belong to God.
In that sacrifice of the cross, we are exposed to the truth of God’s love that so wants to redeem us that He would suffer for us, asking nothing of us but our return to relationship with him.
And of course, as much as Scripture deals with the regular failure of humanity, another underlying theme is relationship. God relates to us as both individuals and as community. I find it interesting that in today’s passage from Isaiah, the everlasting covenant to be made with the people is immediately tied to God’s love for David.
God’s redemption is ultimately about relationship.
I’ve always said ‘right religion is right relationship’, and this is perhaps best reflected in two Great Commandments – love God, love your neighbour. According to Jesus, those two commandments summarize the entire Law and message from all the prophets. It’s not about being perfect. It’s about good relationship.
The word religion itself may find its origin in the Latin religare. To re-bind, or essentially to put back together. Thus “religion is restoration” is a truth reflected in the word itself. With that meaning in mind, one might boldly suggest that religion that does not focus on bringing together may be batting into foul territory, to use a baseball analogy. And if that is so, then religion that creates separation and hate would be in the wrong ball park altogether.
No, in contrast to the world view that likes to separate, label and distinguish, St Paul declares that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, neither slave nor free, no male or female. Two thousand years later, we still struggle with this radical non-dualistic form of relationship.
And finally, we are called to rest. In our Gospel reading, we finish with Jesus calling us to take on his yoke, for his yoke is easy and his burden light. We are called to take off the burden of guilt and religion that judges and condemns us for failure. To cease the struggle to be perfect and take on the lighter burden of relationship and love. To seek God and his purpose stated in Isaiah: to go out in joy and be led back in peace; with the mountains and hills before us bursting into song, and all the trees of the field clapping their hands.
The “burden” of Christ is only to be who we are called to be: imperfect people doing our best to live together in unity, but relying always on His Grace and Mercy, never a misguided sense of perfection.
Brothers and sisters, let us always repent humbly of our mistakes, accepting redemption in the Cross, building good relationship within our community, and resting secure in the knowledge of God’s love for us.
Even if we are jerks now and then.
Let us pray.
Heavenly God, you are always pleased to show yourself to those who are childlike and humble in spirit: help us to follow the example of your blessed servant Francis, to look upon the wisdom of this world as foolishness, and set our minds only on Christ and him crucified; to whom with you and the Holy Spirit be all glory for ever. Amen.
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