This afternoon, we have the blessing of animals at St. Raphael in honor of Francis
of Assisi. So, if you have a pet, bring it to the field at 1 pm.
The
word of God takes us back to the beginnings
of the human family. The author of the Book of Genesis tells a story about
how God created man and woman to be in relationship as partners, best friends,
soulmates. The first human family later became our first dysfunctional family
in “the fall from grace.” But from a religious view, Genesis highlights our common bond as human beings.
The Letter to the Hebrews describes our spiritual family. God became
human in Jesus. Through his death and resurrection, God gifts us with his divine life; so, we
are all brothers and sisters to one another and sons and daughters of God. Our
faith proclaims that one day, God will transfigure us into a new heavenly life,
as God already transfigured Jesus.
In the Gospel, Jesus
explains, among other things, the sacred
relationship between a man and a woman in marriage. Jesus reaffirms that
marriage is a commitment of a husband to a wife and vice versa in love for life and in service of further
life. Today, as in Jesus's day, it is more a hope than a sure thing. Like anything, it takes prayer and hard work. It demands love, understanding, patience, compassion, humor,
forgiveness, faithfulness and generosity.
In light of Monday’s Feast of St. Francis, I would like to speak about this
extraordinary person of faith, a model
for us all.
This
thirteenth-century founder of the worldwide Franciscan movement has been
described as a lover of animals, an environmentalist, a peacemaker, a mystic, a
poet, a reformer.
Francis
came from a middle-class Italian family. Twice he went off to the wars in that
region and failed miserably. Back in Assisi he began to wrestle with the
fundamental questions of life: Who am I? What is the ultimate purpose of my life? He yearned for something greater than
himself. In silence and in prayer, Francis began his search, asking “Who are you, oh Lord, and who am I?”
Eventually,
Francis gave up every “thing” he had. He experienced his own creaturehood with
an awesome Creator. An all-good and compassionate God; a God who became one of
us in Jesus; a God alive in our midst by the power of the Spirit. Francis began to pursue the Gospel in a literal
fashion, and eventually men and women began to gather to form what we know
today as the world-wide Franciscan family.
Does
the thirteenth-century Francis have anything to say to us in the twenty-first
century? I believe we can capture his message in three incidents.
One
took place at La Verna, near Florence, Italy. Francis was praying, and he
experienced the stigmata or marks of the crucified Jesus in his hands, feet and
side. This incident captures the depth of his relationship with God. He spoke to God as one close friend to another.
Francis
encourages us to deepen our relationship
with God.
Another
incident occurred as Francis prayed before the crucifix in the tumbledown
chapel of San Damiano. He heard the crucified Jesus tell him, “Francis, rebuild my house which you see is
falling into ruins.”
Francis
at San Damiano challenges us to build up
our family life. Jesus “sanctified” family life in the Mary/Joseph
household. Holiness in families comes from learning to forgive and ask for
forgiveness, learning to face challenges and do something about them. Time together as a family is important.
The
third incident that captures Francis' message was this: As he rode on
horseback, out stepped a man with so-called leprosy. Francis started to ride
away. But no! Francis slowly dismounted and embraced the leper. Francis saw in him the brokenness of human beings. A leper can be described as someone who
lacks wholeness. We experience this
in our lives. We cry out for a
healer, a reconciler.
This
planet, in some ways, hasn’t changed much since the times of Francis. But first
and foremost, he was able to focus upon the essentials: life with God and one another.
May
Francis inspire us to intensify our life of prayer, to build up one another,
especially in family, and to reach out with a healing hand to those whose lives
have been broken.
I close with an African proverb. “If you think you’re too small to
make a difference, you haven’t spent the night with a mosquito.” The mosquito
makes a difference in an annoying way, but the principle is universal. One
person can stop an injustice. One person can be a voice for truth. One person’s
kindness can save a life. Each life matters. God made us for a purpose.
