St Francis of Assisi – Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity
4 October 2020

Today is the feast-day, or festival, of St Francis of Assisi. We celebrate this very popular saint whose simplicity of life and infectious joy in God's world have inspired millions of Christians over the centuries. When Jorge Bergoglio was elected Pope in 2013 he took the name 'Francis' to indicate his love for this saint and his desire to follow his example.

Before we think a bit more about Francis and what we have to learn from him today, a few words about saints' days and their place in the life of the Church. We are a wonderfully mixed church from many parts of the world and from many different Christian backgrounds. Some of us have been formed as Anglicans, but others have grown up as Catholics, or in Reformed churches, or in some other part of the Christian family. Some of us will feel familiar and at ease with the idea of saints' days, others maybe less so.

We are an Anglican church here at St Ursula's, and Anglicanism is often described as an attempt to blend together in one church both Catholic and Reformed Christianity, to be a 'both/and' rather than 'either/or' sort of Christianity, if you like, or a kind of middle way. Observing saints' days is a part of Catholic Christianity which some forms of Reformed or Protestant Christianity threw out when they broke away from the Roman Catholic Church in the 16th century, but the Church of England – the beginning of Anglicanism – held on to saints' days (in a reformed way) as part of its approach to the Christian year. In the course of a year, Anglicans above all celebrate the great events of the story of Jesus at Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, Ascension, and the coming of the Spirit at Pentecost. But we also have in our calendar many days that mark particular saints, the 'cloud of witnesses' from the time of the first Christians, like Mary, Peter and Paul, through saints of every century down to saints of the modern age, for whom we thank God and from whom we hope to learn to be better Christians ourselves.

Not all Christians would think about saints in the same way, but I think most of us should at least be able to say that there are many Christians from the past, like Francis, whom it's good for us to learn about and learn from. A simple way to think about saints is that they show us in a rich variety of ways how to say 'yes' to Jesus; how to say 'yes' wholeheartedly to the love of God in Jesus Christ and to the way he calls us to live.

Coming back to Francis: how does he teach us to say 'yes' to Jesus? If he were among us here today, living among us, teaching us, what would we learn from him?

Firstly, his simplicity of life would particularly strike us. Francis was a rich young man, but he turned from a wealthy life and embraced poverty for the sake of Christ. Many were drawn by his example to join him, and so there arose communities of followers of Francis, or Franciscans. Their lives of radical simplicity spoke powerfully at a time when the Church had huge power, status and wealth, but the spiritual riches of the Christian faith were in danger of being lost. However, the way of Francis was not grim self-denial or smug condemnation of others. He forbade his companions, the friars, to look down on those living lives of wealth and luxury. This is a way of joyful simplicity, liberation from anxiety and possessiveness to be open to enjoy all God's creatures. A letting go in order to have hands and hearts open to receive; then 'all things are yours'. The stories of Francis speak of joy in all things, people, animals, birds; and with that joy, compassion for all people, all creatures, in their suffering.

Francis demonstrated radical obedience to the teaching in today's Gospel, where Jesus calls his disciples to trust God and live in joyful freedom from anxiety, the worries that clog our lives up. Do not worry, do not be afraid, says Jesus. Seek God's kingdom and God will look after your needs; sell your possessions and give alms; for where your treasure is, there you heart will be also.

Addressing fellow-preachers, Karl Barth writes: 'If we ever take the risk (and it is a risk) of preaching [on these words of Jesus] we at once meet with all kinds of sullen ... reprimands ... and most of all, if we are honest, from our own hearts and minds. For how can we help taking care for our life? How can we model ourselves [as Jesus calls us to here] on the birds of the air and the lilies of the field? – How is all this possible?' (Church Dogmatics, IV/2, 470)

But Francis shows us that it is possible, because he took Jesus literally, becoming the poorest of the poor, and yet at the same time incomparably rich, and also making millions of others spiritually rich. How do we make sense of this part of the message of Jesus, lived out so compellingly by Francis? Many of us, myself included, would perhaps say that we are caught up in patterns of relationships and responsibilities, so it would be simply foolish on our parts to give up our jobs and give away all we own. Maybe so: but how, then, do we live in the joyful freedom to which Jesus calls us and which Francis lived out? We should probably recognise that, in all honesty, we will not be handing over our credit cards and the keys of our houses and cars to Abbess Helen at the end of this service, so that we can form a radical new Christian community here in Bern – just to give you a heads-up, I think she's planning to launch that idea next Lent. Nevertheless, let us still rejoice in the witness of Francis, and thank God for all who follow his way closely today; and let us pray for ourselves and seek to discern honestly among ourselves what the teaching of Jesus and the witness of Francis mean for us, so that something more of God's gift of joyful simplicity may break into our complex and burdened lives.

What else do we learn from Francis? I regret there isn't time today to talk about his unusual approach to Muslims, reaching out to them in a Christ-like way at a time of crusades and inter-religious conflict. His example certainly calls Christians to cross the battle-lines in today's world, praying with him that we would be instruments of God's peace. But on this day which is also the last Sunday of Creation season, and aware of the environmental crisis that surrounds us, we really must mention the joyful love of Francis for God's whole creation. Mentioning Pope Francis again, in 2015 he published Laudato Si': On Care for Our Common Home, the most significant Christian contribution in this field. Those Italian words 'Laudato Si'' are the opening of the 'Canticle of the Creatures', composed by Francis, of which we sang an English version at the start of this service. Pope Francis holds up St Francis as a major inspiration for Christians as they seek to get stuck into this challenge. Francis is truly the patron saint of the environmental movement.

And he gives us one huge and essential gift as we approach this crisis. Francis gives us a compelling positive vision. He invites us to love all God's creatures and to take our place as human beings alongside them all in a joyful chorus of grateful praise to God. That's what we are doing when we sing that hymn, the Canticle of St Francis, where he draws on similar material in the Psalms that he said every day. Notice that in the opening lines we are not addressing God but all other creatures, and calling them to join us in the worship of God: 'All creatures of our God and King, lift up your voice and with us sing....' And as the canticle goes on, we address more and more of the things God has created, as if we are summoning an expanding chorus of singers: the sun and moon, the wind and clouds, the morning and evening, the earth, flowers and fruits. We address them all and call on them to do, with us, what they were created for – to praise God. Everything has been created to praise God, to glorify God: not just us human beings with our hymnbooks but the whole of God's creation – trees and rivers, mountains and oceans, birds, fish, all animals. By just being what God created them to be, they praise and glorify God.

When parents bring up children they seek to teach them to live well, by relating to other people and their wider environment with the respect due to them; and we can give children both negative and positive reasons for why they should live well. Negatively, we sometimes have to teach children that if they don't treat other people with respect, they will get in trouble and will end up regretting it. That has its place in the moral formation of a child. But ultimately we want to give children positive reasons for why they should live well; we want to draw children into a compelling, beautiful, positive vision of life as a wonderful gift of God which flourishes for us all when we learn to love our neighbours as ourselves. Negative and positive motivations for living well, for doing the right thing.

With the environmental crisis, we have no end of negative motivation to start to live well, do the right thing, and treat what is around us with greater respect. We know there's all kinds of bad stuff going to happen to us or our children if we don't change the way we live. Responding to those negative messages, responding to the crisis out of negative motivation, is a lot better than nothing, and that may be all we can hope for in terms of policies and laws. But as Christians we have a positive motivation to inspire us and to share with others: we were created by God to share in God's joy by living in grateful interdependence with all other creatures. So we don't go to St Francis for negative motivation, for the latest bleak forecast of what is coming to us. He gives us the positive motivation of a God-centred vision of the creation. He does not see nature as divine; rather, he teaches us to rejoice in all things as given by God and as existing to glorify God. So with Francis we learn to look with love and respect on the world around us as existing to glorify God, not just to satisfy our needs, and we are reminded of our responsibility, as wise and loving stewards, to care for all God's creatures.

So today we thank God for his faithful servant Francis, who through his life and message touches us, challenges us, but above all encourages us to believe that just as he did, we may learn to say 'yes' to Jesus and so 'yes' to God's love for us and for all God's creatures.

Revd David Marshall