In yesterday's Beacon, I shared with you all a sweet story of St. Francis preaching to the birds about gratitude. In his Sermon to the Birds, the Saint noted that the birds receive everything they need for their not just survival, but flourishing, from the abundant creation God provides in all its complexity. If you remember, in the story the birds then flew into the sky, formed the shape of a cross, and then divided into four groups and flew away, each group in a cardinal direction, to share the gospel of Christ all over the world.
Francis's love of nature, and the way that his spirit was nurtured by the natural world as a living testament to God's mind-blowing love for us, is quite famous, and so tender. No wonder he is that patron saint for creation.
The readings we hear today however, are the readings regularly scheduled for this week, not the propers for our saint. And yet it is interesting to examine the way that the life of the saint intersects with our readings we just heard about having faith in God in the face of injustice.
For there was another side to Francis than just a tree-hugging nature lover. His story is also an incredible conversion story. In his youth, he had been a wealthy young man, born into a wealthy merchant family, and he lived the life of a playboy-- a kind of work hard, play hard kind of existence. He also became a soldier and fought in the Crusades, killing in the name of Christ as European armies attempted to win the Holy Lands from the control of Muslims. He was captured and imprisoned, became very ill, and was released to return home to recover. It was during the recovery that Francis began experiencing his first visions of the presence of Christ in his life. Francis abandoned his wealth, his privilege, renouncing them all, and soon became a wandering preacher who lived by begging from town to town, occasionally gathering followers as he went along.
Francis looked upon a church that at the time was a sponsor of warfare through the Crusades-- He himself knew that first hand. And yet the more that he preached and lived a life of poverty and simplicity in solidarity with the poor and the marginalized. He also realized that the gospel of Christ called him to renounce violence. As he went from town to town, he would great people by saying, " "Pace e Bene!" -- "Peace and goodness to you!"
He devoted himself so firmly to the cause of nonviolence and the renunciation of war that in 1219 he trailed behind crusaders heading for the next wave of fighting, and spent a year walking from Italy to North Africa, where the Sultan who led the Muslim armies was encamped. After pleading with the Cardinal who led the Christian armies to stop the violence and killing, and being turned back with scorn and derision, he then managed to gain an audience with the Sultan to urge the same thing, impressing the Sultan greatly by his humility and piety.
Francis did not succeed in his mission to either side, and the wars continued to rage on. Yet this aspect of the saint's life is where we see a connection with the readings that we have just heard. In our reading from Habakkuk, we hear yet another prophet they're crying the oppression of the poor and the lack of justice that is available in the land. God answers the prophets lament in the first half of our first reading by reminding The prophet, and all who listened to him, that God's will and God's justice are not based upon abstract principles of winning and losing, especially not of power and the will to use it. Instead, God joins the prophet in Condemning the perversion of justice that is pervading the government of Israel. Our brief reading ends with this observation: "Look at the proud! Their spirit is not right in them, but the righteous live by their faith."
This declaration leads directly into the opening verses of our gospel passage. In the opening verse, we hear are apostles exclaim, "Increase our faith!" Jesus then goes on to tell the apostles that if they had the faith the size of a mustard seed, they would be willing to accomplish great things. It mustard seed of course was one of the tiniest of all seeds, then and now.
Surely, the apostles have faith that size. Surely the crowd's following Jesus have faith that size. Surely we can have faith that size, faith in a God who calls us to work for justice and to fight against oppression, even in the face of our position by the world all around us, just as Saint Francis himself faced in preaching a gospel of nonviolence, yes, but also a gospel that called Christians to be willing to place everything on the line who could not in the cause of those on the margins, those who were most vulnerable, those who could not speak for themselves, and who would not be heard, even if they had tried.
Jesus's message, amplified by servants like Saint Francis, is just as relevant today as it was 2000 years ago. Especially now, as we are plunged into a world in which the nihilistic pursuit of power and wealth justifies or, kidnapping, violence, and even contemplates genocide.
Jesus's entire life of ministry on this earth was lived in the pursuit of embodying God's justice-- which is not based on punishment and violence, but on love and mercy and grace. It is a life that we who follow Jesus are also charged with taking up as our calling: like Jesu, to give of ourselves and of our resources to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, heal the sick, welcome the stranger and the homeless, and transcend barriers.
This is the heart of the gospel, this is what Saint Francis sought to embody in his life, and what we are called to embody in ours. We are not called to silence and apathy in the face of the pain and suffering that swirls around us. We are called to seize hold of our mustard seed faith, to plant it in the soil of the love that God has for each and every one of us, and then to share that faith in action abundantly by standing up for those who are unable to stand up for themselves. We are called especially to renounce a gospel of hatred, a gospel of destruction, a gospel of exploiting human and beast and forest for the profit of only a few.
On the day Saint Francis died, he said to his followers, "We have only begun to practice the gospel." Seven hundred years later, those words still ring true, and yet we have the assurance that God calls us into relationship with each other through even the tiniest amount of faith, faith which is in itself can achieve miracles. Amen.
Readings:
Preached at the 505 on October 4 and the 10:30 Eucharist on October 5, 2025.
