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Feast of Francis

 

            A title like this one for this inspirational reflection is about a non-Quaker as I could image.  When I was young, if you told me yesterday was the Feast of St. Francis, I would have responded with a blank stare.  It would have meant nothing to me.  In my tradition we did not have “feast days.”  And we never talked about saints, except maybe the authors of the New Testament.  I might have connected with St. John, the gospel writer, or St. Paul, the other New Testament guy!  But there were no Quaker saints.

            But then my education began.  God keeps putting into my life good Catholics and Episcopalians and the others who regularly use saints.  Gradually, the saints became known to me.  As I studied some about the monks of the early centuries, I encountered some weird, but holy women and men.  I studied enough Greek and Latin to learn that the word, “saint,” really means “holy.”  A saint was a holy person.  It does not mean he or she is god, but he or she routinely hangs out with God and somehow that influences him or her.

            I began to realize there really were Quaker saints.  We just never recognized them with that language.  Surely John Woolman, the famous 18th century American Quaker who was so instrumental in the anti-slavery movement, deserved to be seen as St. John, even if we never talked about him as such.  And surely, countless old Quaker ladies, as we called them, were saintly in their work and their ministry---often in unseen and quiet ways.  They will never be canonized, but they should be emulated.  They knew what hanging out with the Holy One meant.

            Yesterday was the Feast Day for St. Francis.  By now I know a fair amount about Francis and I like him.  Francis was a 13th century Italian who began his teenage years as the life of the party.  He loved having fun and had little interest in following his father as a merchant.  He went out with some of his fellows as a soldier and was promptly taken captive.  He mind turned to more serious things and the story of a saint begins.

            Francis felt called by God to rebuild an old, dilapidated church.  His father got mad at him for squandering so much money on a useless task.  So Francis repaid his father the loaned money and, then, set out on his own chosen lifetime of “evangelical poverty.”  Poverty became the hallmark of the Franciscans.

            The Franciscans, along with the Dominicans, were not actually monks.  Instead they were what were called mendicants.  Now I know if I used the word, “mendicant,” in my class, they students would have no clue what I meant.  A mendicant is literally a beggar.  But the beggar would be one that should not be seen as a panhandler.  The beggar is one who has committed to a life of evangelical poverty---following rather literally the model of Jesus.  Stay poor and be unattached to material things. 

            Of course, those of us with some means have to share with these mendicants---these Franciscans and the like.  But I am ok with this.  If they are committed to a life of holy poverty, I am more than willing to share what I have in order that they can share what they have, namely, their saintly presence.

            If they are hanging out with the Holy One, then I can join them on the edges of holiness.  I am not sure I have the call nor the will to become a mendicant.  To use poor English, I prefer to be a “haver” than a “beggar.”  I am not able to live without my possessions and my attachments.  I applaud the Franciscans and all those who can go all the way.  So far, I am a partway-spiritual person.  And I think God is ok with that.  Or it is a rationalization to make me feel better.

            Instead of poverty the way Francis talked about, Quakers traditionally have focused on what we call simplicity.  Simplicity seems less radical than poverty.  Simplicity seems doable, even though I am not doing too well.  Simplicity asks, “how much is enough?”  If you have more than enough, perhaps you have not chosen a simple life. 

            Francis is a kind of hero for me---a spiritual hero.  His life is both witness and challenge.  He is a witness to what is possible.  It is a life free from attachments and free for service in God’s world to God’s people.  My heart wants this.  But when I am honest, I realize my heart does not want it bad enough to hang out with the Holy One too much.  God knows what might be asked of me, if I did!

            So honestly I hang back as much, or more, than I hang out.  I appreciate the challenge of Francis because he keeps reappearing in my life urging me to walk the saints’ path.  I know I can’t do it with poverty.  So I try to live more simply.  If I can hang out more with St. Francis, then I likely am going to be drawn more deeply into the sphere of the Holy One.

            I’m not a saint.  But I am a beginner.  St. Francis’ Feast Day is now past.  But I am going to keep on.

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