The writing of Bruce Epperly, a pastor, professor, and prolific author, will now be featured on this blog, which we continue in honor and memory of Charles Bayer.
October 4 marks the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi. On this day, or the Sunday closest to it, many congregations celebrate the Blessing of the Companion Animals, as part of their focus on ecology and creation spirituality. In my own experience of leading these services, typically, we have a handful of dogs and cats of all kinds. I’m usually asked to bless photos of cats and say a prayer for a large and rambunctious dog who’s too disruptive to attend. We are reminded on the Feast of St. Francis that the most unlikely people can become saints and mystics who change the world.
“We are all mystics,” asserts German theologian Dorothee Solle. We have all been touched by God and constantly receive divine inspiration, even when we are unaware of it. Mystics don’t belong to another order of reality; they are simply people who have encountered God in life-changing ways and then experience God’s presence in the ordinary as well as extraordinary moments of life.
Like most of us, mystics and saints – and dare we say, social activists! - seldom set out to become spiritual giants or prophetic critics. Very few mystics have dazzling encounters with God as children. In fact, many of them find spirituality or activism of little importance until a personal crisis or an unexpected message from God awakens them to God’s call in their lives.
Francis of Assisi never expected to become “St. Francis.” Born into an upper middle-class family, Giovanni di Pietro de Bernardone (1181-1226) was groomed to follow in his father’s footsteps as a cloth merchant. As a young man, he showed no proclivity for spirituality. He loved wine, women, and song. Known as the “Frenchman” because of his lifestyle and attire, he partied hard, dressed stylishly, and spent extravagantly.
Francis had money but to make a name for himself he needed to do something spectacular, such as become a knight and defeat his city’s enemies. So, Francis went off to war, but as a knight he was a failure. Assisi was defeated, and Francis was captured, and spent a year in prison. When he returned to Assisi, he wanted to resume his old way of life, but a voice called to him, quietly and persistently, to choose a radically different life – a life of service to God and humankind.
Pondering his future and filled with uneasiness with his upper middle-class life, Francis decided to pray at the dilapidated San Damiano church. Confronted by the crucifix mounted above the altar, Francis fell to his knees, begging God to tell him what to do with his life. He heard a voice coming from the cross, “Francis, repair my church, which is falling down.” Obedient, Francis initially thought his calling was to repair this particular church. Yet, as he refurbished the Chapel of San Damiano, he realized his calling was to be a pilgrim for God, giving up everything including his status and treasure, to rebuild the whole church from the inside out and to repair its broken spirit.
For the remaining two decades of his life, Francis and his companions traveled throughout Italy, confronting popes, priests, bishops, and laypersons with God’s vision of peace, simplicity, and reformation. Francis chose voluntary poverty to be wholly dependent on God. Today, Francis lives on with his message of simplicity, love of creation, and companionship with all.
One of Francis’ first tasks was to learn to love God in the least of these. Repelled by persons with leprosy, Francis discovered, as Mother Teresa did nearly eight centuries later, that he needed to love God in all God’s distressing disguises. Inspired by God’s presence in the poor and misshapen, Francis began a mission to the vulnerable and forgotten.
Francis also learned to see God as present in the non-human world. The heavens declare the glory of God and so does every living creature. God is present in Brother Sun and Sister Moon, but also in flowing streams, flying birds, and howling wolves. With the Psalmist, Francis discovered that everything that breathes praises God. (Psalm 148, 150)
Francis saw materialism and greed as impediments to experiencing God in our lives and the lives of others. Those who live simply, trusting God to supply their deepest needs, have nothing to fear. At home in the world, they can see God in all things and all things in God.
Simone Weil, the French mystic and philosopher, challenged her readers to become saints for our time. We don’t need to imitate Francis by embracing poverty, but we can live simply so that others can simply live. We can advocate for the vulnerable and challenge governmental policies that punish the poor and reward the wealthy. We can let go of self-interest and commit ourselves to planetary wellbeing.
Francis challenges us not only to see God calling to us in the non-human world but to embody the spirituality of Earth care, through simple lifestyles, responding to climate change and in promoting economic and ecological sustainability. The world is God-filled and we can find God anywhere and bring forth God’s presence in those in whom it is hidden whether at the soup kitchen with our nation’s forgotten, a walk in the woods, or a town meeting supporting alternative energy and fuel sources. In our care for the Earth, we truly become God’s instruments – dare we say, mystics, prophets, and saints- of peace and healing in our time.
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Bruce Epperly is a pastor, professor, and author of over sixty books, including Prophetic Healing: Howard Thurman’s Contemplative Activism; Walking with Francis of Assisi: From Privilege to Activism; and Mystics in Action: Twelve Saints for Today, which includes a chapter on Dag Hammarskjold’s mystical activism. Currently “retired,” he is an active grandparent and is working on a text on the Prophet Amos words to America. He can be reached at drbruceepperly@gmail.com.
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