St. Francis of Assisi Today

Today is the Feast Day of St. Francis of Assisi.  As a child, I remember many stories of Francis as told from the pulpit- stories of Francis befriending wolves and embracing lepers. These are not the lovely images of a gentle man with birds perched on his fingertips that so many of us associate with the patron saint of animals and the environment. Francis blessed not only animals- but also the beast within, those dark and scary parts of ourselves.  At first appalled by lepers, he moved toward that which he feared and despised in order to know God more fully and to  work.  And so his life was one of radical transformation, and one of radical living of the gospel.

I have come to know Francis personally through my relationship with two teachers who have emulated him in their lives and work.  The first is the teller of those stories I heard growing up- my childhood priest, Father Jim. Early on, Jim rejected the opulence of a suburban rectory in order to live a call to poverty among the people of inner city Rochester. Like Francis, Jim chose to live with the poor, to serve his neighbors, and to seek God in each of these brothers and sisters.  Like Francis, Jim grew community who also served. And like Francis, Jim was not looked upon with favor by the hierarchy of his times (particularly when Father Jim also embraced the outcasts of our times- blessing the love between same-sex couples and honoring the call to priesthood in women). His disobedience with authority got him into trouble- and yet he has always been faithful to his call.

Perhaps it was a similar call that pulled at me to first contact my spiritual director, Rev. Steve, this past July. Originally I was resistant: I had in mind a female interfaith director. Plus, I had the thought that he would not really want to meet with me-- a woman from across the river who lives an ordinary life with a husband and two kids--as his call is to the homeless and the inner city streets. I even had the name and number of another director in the area who I was all set to contact. But...at the last minute...I thought again of Steve and his ministry, and something in me said call (or email, as is usually my way..).  And I am very glad I did!

Through Steve's work, I have seen again the work of St. Francis brought to life in the modern day.  I have seen it in the community that has gathered with him, in others who have sold their belongings in order to live their lives with the poor of Newburgh.  I have seen it in the faces of the homeless and the prisoner and the other outcasts society pushes aside who gather on a Sunday corner for worship.  And I have seen it in the small group of UU's who now join them... 

So how do we celebrate the Feast of St. Francis today? A blessing of animals is nice- and I honor that encounter with the sacred in our furry and feathered creatures too. But to walk in the footsteps of the saint might take more courage- it might mean embracing the lepers of our own times.   It might mean reaching out to the prisoner, the homeless man, the undocumented immigrant, or the transgender marine-  across the walls of society's non-acceptance.  And it might mean finally facing the anger and fears that have haunted our lives, looking inside at the demons and learning to embrace our own wolves. 

For me, the inner work of befriending my own wolf was necessary- and St. Francis was also present on a day in January when I picked up my father's Mass Card with the prayer- Make Me an Instrument of your Peace- printed on the back, and with the help of a friend began to pray. I have carried those words with me in my purse since that day.  While Francis may not have written the prayer attributed to his name, there is no doubt that he certainly lived it.

May the words inspire each of us to live and to walk the call... wherever it may lead: 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;

where there is hatred, let me sow love;

when there is injury, pardon;

where there is doubt, faith;

where there is despair, hope;

where there is darkness, light;

and where there is sadness, joy.

Grant that I may not so much seek

to be consoled as to console;

to be understood, as to understand,

to be loved as to love;

for it is in giving that we receive,

it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,

and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.