thoughts as the feast of st. francis approaches...(revised)

My precious grandson, Louie, was born on the Feast Day of St. Francis. He has opened my heart in ways long forgotten and I cherish him. In a vastly different but no less profound manner, our sweet but totally neurotic dog, Lucie, has brought another layer of love to my surface. She came into our world roughly seven years ago on the feast of Francis, too. In so many ways, this feast day matters to me more than most. A prayer attributed to Francis that is probably more the work of tradition always hits me in the right way. Anne Heaton's contemplative arrangement gets the spirituality of Francis right. Appropriately, it was one of of the last choral pieces our band shared together before my movement into retirement.
 

This morning my companion, Lucie, ministered to me when I slipped and fell on

the back porch. I landed on a stair smashing into my lower back. Lucie, who is the working definition of skittish, didn't run away. She stayed close, licking me, and nudging me to get up again. I was stunned at her presence. She knew something wasn't right and let me hold on to her for support when the first spasms passed. We sat looking at one another in silence for a minute: "It's shitty sometimes getting old, Luce" I said. She nuzzled me again before pushing me with her snout to get up. To everything there is a season, right? A time to fall, a time for comfort - and then its time to get on with the morning. Sharing life with Lucie is always about being real.

Later this week our family with gather together to mark Louie's fifth birthday - another reminder that life goes on. We will be at M and W's place in the hills for supper, cake and presents one day. The next day will take us to Ioka Farm's harvest festival. I can't wait to ride the hay wagon with him and wander through the fields picking out our favorite pumpkins. What a feast! I am also quietly aware that my dad died about this time four years ago. He was able to celebrate Louie's first birthday - and then it was time to let go. He is close in my prayers these days calling to memory another great hymn attributed to Francis.
Today I give thanks to God for all the ways love has been shared with me - by all creatures - great and small. Interestingly,at least to me, is the appointed Gospel reading for remembering Francis: Matthew 11: 25-30. This has been one of my all time favorite Bible passages and shaped most of my call into ministry:

Jesus said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him. “Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

While sharing ministry in Tucson, I came upon Eugene Peterson's marvelous reworking of this text and made it my own. I think it is brilliant. Not only did it resonate with my heart, but the experiences of so many friends and colleagues: "Jesus broke into prayer: “Thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth. You’ve concealed your ways from sophisticates and know-it-alls, but spelled them out clearly to ordinary people. Yes, Father, that’s the way you like to work.”

Jesus resumed talking to the people, but now tenderly. “The Father has given me all these things to do and say. This is a unique Father-Son operation, coming out of Father and Son intimacies and knowledge. No one knows the Son the way the Father does, nor the Father the way the Son does. But I’m not keeping it to myself; I’m ready to go over it line by line with anyone willing to listen. Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

In an era shaped by fear and mistrust, polarization and anger, the words of Jesus given shape and form by Francis are nourishing to me. I find praying the words of Francis essential.

Lord make me an instrument of your peace
Where there is hatred let me sow love
Where 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
O divine master 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's in dying that we are born to eternal life
Amen