Sitting Down with St. Francis

 

Remember that when you leave this earth, you can take with you nothing that you have received ~ only what you have given: a full heart, enriched by honest service, love, sacrifice, and courage.  St. Francis of Assisi

 

Francis of Assisi was born in Italy to a wealthy family.  His father was a silk merchant, and his mother was a French noblewoman.  By most accounts, he was an affluent young adult who loved bright clothing and the pleasures of life.  The story goes that Francis’ world was turned upside down when, sitting at his father’s booth in the marketplace selling cloth, he saw a beggar asking for alms.  Francis is said to have abandoned his station at the shop and ran after the beggar, giving away all his money.  His friends mocked him, and his father was outraged by leaving valuable merchandise to thieves.  During a year of military service, he was taken prisoner and held captive.  In captivity, he fell ill, which caused him to think about his life.  Often our mortality reminds us of our vulnerability, opening us to God.  Francis continued to have spiritual experiences that led him to loosen his grip on wealth as material items lost their allure.  As the mystics say, all that glimmers is not gold.   This year, 2026, marks 800 years since St. Francis’ death.  This week, I will share a few of my favorite quotes from St. Francis, inviting you to let his wisdom sink and sing to your soul.

 

Like Francis, we all have a money autobiography.  Maybe you, like Francis, came from a family that was well-off, or maybe you came from a working-class family that barely had two dimes to rub together.  I came from a family where money was tight, hand-me-downs were normal, and going out to eat was a special occasion.  My material grandmother, a daughter of the Depression, would wash out bread bags to reuse (for what I don’t remember), and we had a collection of twist ties.  Why?  I don’t know.  Iowa frugality is an art form that has left an impression on my soul.  Moreover, being a pastor is not exactly the way to be featured on lifestyles of the rich and famous (there is a throwback to an old television show!).  Each of us has a story about money written in our hearts, and that guides our lives.  In our diverse church, those stories can sometimes come into conflict with each other, because we only know what we know.  If you have always had things work out financially, that leads you to one perspective.  If you have had to scratch and claw your way through life and worry about running out of money, that leads you to another.  Even more interesting is that two people can come from similar financial status, but land in differing, even conflicting, perspectives.  For some, not having money leads to clinging, or others to generosity.  Money contributes to the story we tell about ourselves to the world.

 

Yet, St. Francis is right, as the cliché goes, “You never see a hearse with a U-Haul trailer behind it.”  Life is not what we take with us, but what we can offer/share while we are here.  As someone who presides at a lot of funerals, I can tell you that the balance of someone’s bank account is rarely mentioned in the eulogy.  Yet, culture wants you to keep building your resume even after retirement.  Today, I invite you to think about the ways money has left an impression on your soul.  How do you see money?  Do you see it as a “necessary evil”?  As a tool?  As a fire that you need to tend but can burn you if not careful?  Where did that view come from?  Who else has contributed/edited the story you tell about money – could be your parents or a boss you had, or a class you took in college?  How does our current economic tension- where inflation, increasing cost of war, national debt, and the rollercoaster stock market all mix into an intoxicating drink we all sip from?  Listen to St. Francis’ wisdom to ponder what is in the cardboard boxes of your soul marked, “My Story with Money”.  Amen.

Prayer

 

Creator of all that is, of trees that tower, birds that soar, clouds that sail, and waves that rhythmically wash on the shore, connect me to the symphony of this world.  Open my ears to hear the wisdom You have woven into the beauty of earth.  Open my mind to explore and discuss the truths from brother sun and sister moon.  Open my heart to the waves and grass that laughingly tickle my toes with delight.  God of all seasons, even in Florida, where the changes are subtle and slight, where humidity still hangs in the air, as other parts of the country start to cool off, let me be open to You.  Help me connect to this plot and place I call home.  Help me be a good and loving partner to this land.  For the goodness of a carrot and apple, for the beauty of a sunset, for the reminder of storms that I am not in control of or in charge of, and for Your creation that reorders, refreshes, renews, and reminds me morning by morning of Your mercy, love, care, and presence.  God of all, to You we sing with creation our hymn of praise.  Alleluia and Amen. 

Creation is Preaching

 

Today, pray with me, slowly savoring each syllable of the beautiful Psalm 19 ~ a hymn of creation and our holy connection to all that is ~

 

The heavens are telling the glory of God,
    and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork.
² Day to day pours forth speech,
    and night to night declares knowledge.
³ There is no speech, nor are there words;
    their voice is not heard;
⁴ yet their voice goes out through all the earth
    and their words to the end of the world.

In the heavens he has set a tent for the sun,
⁵ which comes out like a bridegroom from his wedding canopy,
    and like a strong man runs its course with joy.
⁶ Its rising is from the end of the heavens
    and its circuit to the end of them,
    and nothing is hid from its heat.

⁷ The law of the Lord is perfect,
    reviving the soul;
the decrees of the Lord are sure,
    making wise the simple;
⁸ the precepts of the Lord are right,
    rejoicing the heart;
the commandment of the Lord is clear,
    enlightening the eyes;
⁹ the awe of the Lord is pure,
    enduring forever;
the ordinances of the Lord are true
    and righteous altogether.
¹⁰ More to be desired are they than gold,
    even much fine gold;
sweeter also than honey
    and drippings of the honeycomb.

¹¹ Moreover, by them is your servant warned;
    in keeping them there is great reward.
¹² But who can detect one’s own errors?
    Clear me from hidden faults.
¹³ Keep back your servant also from the insolent;
    do not let them have dominion over me.
Then I shall be blameless
    and innocent of great transgression.

¹⁴ Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
    be acceptable to you,
    O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.

 

Which word/phrase above leapt off the screen for you?  Is there a word/phrase above that confused or confounded you?  Was there a word/phrase that felt like sandpaper/fig leaf to your skin and soul?  What is the sunlight trying to teach you?  How might night be telling you something you need to hear?  How does creation reveal God’s wisdom?  I pray that as you ponder this psalm, you might sense God’s love enfolding and holding you.  May the words of your mouth and the meditations/thoughts/encounters of your heart this day be aligned and alive to God’s presence in/through/with all things ~ including your one wild and precious life.  Amen.

Creation is Preaching

 

Coming alive means that we are showing up.  We are awake to our own bodies and desires, to other people, to beauty, to grief, to joy, and to the ordinary altar of encountering God now. We are not numb and amused and only able to talk about shows or TikToks and settling for (ChatGPT’s) answers to our deepest questions.  Sarah Bessey

 

One of the many reasons we step outside the air-conditioned homes is to let all our senses come awake and alive.  Outside the walls of our homes, there are sights, sounds, smells, feels, textures, and tastes that our controlled environments mute or entirely block out.  Creation enlivens us because it awakens us.  We don’t need to climb Mount Everest to feel awake and alive.  We do need to be intentional.  When you stroll to your mailbox today, what is in the air you inhale?? What do you hear, see, sense?  A simple trip outside to collect what usually goes right in the recycle bin can be a spiritual practice.  A simple walk around the block can be a pilgrimage to another world if we notice the new color on our neighbors' plants or how the cloud above our heads looks like a sailboat.  We notice not only what is outside of us, but also what is inside.  How our body responds to the warmth of the sun, how a cool/cold cup of water after being outdoors is essential, how we feel more at home in ourselves when we soak in the symphony of the world around us ~ a symphony in which we are at once an audience member and active participant at the same time.  We both listen to and sing with creation, God’s music of the spheres.  We absorb and respond.  How might we encounter the altar of God’s world, the church/cathedral of creation, as one way to worship the Creator?  May you and I discover new ways to connect with birds, grass, soil, trees, and life that is evolving around and within today.  Amen.

Creation is Preaching

 

Creation is one giant symphony of mutual sympathy ~ John Duns Scotus

 

Creation is continually singing and serenading us, but when do we slow down to pay attention?  Creation is continually ministering to us, but when do we receive the offering openly?  And, before this starts to sound like I am waxing poetically, let’s admit that nature is messy, scary, uncontrollable ~ even as we pave over paradise or see creation only as a backdrop/scenery for our social media post.  Creation, like humans, is a mixture of beauty and brokenness.  To be in relationship with creation is to be connected to our Creator.  Genesis 3 tells us our initial home was in a garden where our ancestors were called/given the job to tend and till, be stewards of the soil as the way to steward their souls.  And because at the heart of any relationship is mutuality and free will, God gives us the power to decide how or if we will connect with creation.  Our ancestors chose to eat the fruit from the very tree God instructed to avoid.  This is less about “original sin” and more about our very human nature.  When left to our own agendas, we often select the option which promises us power, fame, or fortune rather than relationships.  Genesis didn’t have to literally happen to be true, because we keep plucking from the earth to feed our own agendas rather than live in relationship with the goodness of God.  We keep gathering more manna than we need, even though it spoils our very souls not to share with those who have not.  I love how our ancestors in Genesis 3, after they eat the fruit, put on fig leaves, which is like wearing sandpaper!  Ouch!  Yet, this is what we keep doing to ourselves.  We keep clothing ourselves with that which we think will protect or provide, even as it scratches our very souls.  And when God comes strolling in the garden, our ancestors hid. Hid from God, which I still do.  I hide from God through busyness and work and running around.  I am like a squirrel that drank 10 cups of coffee (there is an image for you).  And God asks, not with judgment or wagging an angry finger, but with genuine curiosity, “Where are you?”  Where are you today?  You can answer that literally/physically: where are you?  You can answer emotionally: where are you?  You can respond spiritually: where are you?  Where are you hiding, and where have you put on the metaphorical fig leaf that you think will shelter and shield you from the slings and arrows of this harsh/hard world?  Where are you?  Go outside under the shade of a tree, and ponder where you are…and how God, our Creator, meets you right there in that moment.  Amen.

 

Creation is Preaching

 

Here is the vast, savage, hovering mother of ours, Nature, lying all around, with such beauty, and such affection for her children, as the leopard, and yet we are so early weaned from her breast to society, to that culture which is exclusively an interaction of (hu)man to (hu)man.  Henry David Thoreau, 1862.

 

September is Creation Justice Month, when we honor that the etymology of the word human is from humus ~ or earthling/earth being.  Genesis 2 tells of how God forms, fashions a mud being and breathes the breath of life into the soil ~ this is our first ancestor.  Creation itself was God’s first act/testimony/witness of goodness and creativity.  Creation is central in scripture.  Think of God’s guidance in Psalm 23 ~ God leading us beside the still/refreshing/renew waters to the deepest valleys to the lush green fields where a picnic has been set up.  Or Psalm 8 that says, “When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have established, what are humans (mud/dust beings) that you are mindful of them (us), mortals that you care for them (us)?”  Creation is central to Elijah on Mount Horeb (1 Kings 19), where God comes in the stillness/whisper of a breeze after the fire and windstorms.  Creation was woven into Jesus’ ministry when he pointed to lilies of the field.  Jesus preached in the open-air cathedral of creation.  Jesus was transfigured on a mountain.  I don’t think it is a coincidence that Jesus appeared to Mary in a garden on Easter morning, echoing the Garden of Eden.

 

And yet, as Thoreau says, we have become disconnected (weaned) from our relationship with the earth.  We hover/huddle in our homes with electric lights buzzing.  We are glued to our devices, trying to get one more level in whatever game we are playing.  To go outside is an act of resistance and reconnection to the source of life and to the One who creates all that was/is/will be.  Today, I invite you to go outside.  You don’t have to do this for hours; you don’t have to go for a hike on a mountain (which is hard to do in Florida).  You don’t have to stay outside all day.  A few minutes of standing alongside creation as the sun rises or sets today.  Two minutes of closing your eyes and listening to the birds’ squawking and singing.  One minute to reach out and touch a tree or leaf, which reminds us of our own slow ripening of our soul.  Photosynthesis happens in our bodies, like plants, when we absorb vitamin D.  Even if you go to the window and gaze out, this is a holy/prayerful moment.  Disconnecting from our devices and from other humans for a while reminds us that humans are not at the center of the world; there is a whole creation that is spinning, scurrying, and surviving without you.  Mysteriously, when we gaze/absorb creation, we realize deep in our bones/souls/with every breath that we are connected.  What we do impacts the wildlife around us.  Connect with creation today and, in doing so, connect back to who and whose you are.  Amen.

Prayer for Today

 O God, our help in ages past and our hope for this day and countless days to come.  We sing with the ancestors that we’ve come this far by faith.  We know that the road can be rough, rugged, and dangerous.  We’ve twisted ankles and souls; we've encountered hurting people in the ditches of life like the Good Samaritan, and we are constantly questioning, “What are you up to, God, and what would You have me do?”  Thank you that the call to ministry is not just for those with framed pieces of paper; we are all called, blessed, and sent into the world through baptism.  We are all partners, co-laborers, and singers in the choir of Your composition.  Yet, God, honestly, we like the spotlight and want to be picked for the solo.  We want to be needed and necessary.  We hold in our hearts today all who were impacted on this day, especially those in the Twin Towers, Pentagon, fields of PA, and on planes.  Those in New York City, DC, and across our country, for the sting of pain is real today.  Too often, remembering can be conflated with not forgetting, rather than an active way to see how the past shapes the present.  How violence begets violence, even among us who claim Your love as central.  How we stand divided by politics in addition to economics, gender, race, identity, sexual orientation, where we live, and how we show up.  God, we are not the “we” You call/craft/create us to be.  Help us, God not just claim our faith, but live the light of Your presence each day.  Surround, support, sustain, and send us into our neighbors and communities to be Your people here and now.  Amen.