Ours is a time of great spiritual hunger. People like me are thirsting for the sacred, the mysterious, the mystical. We are looking for more than a good job, a full closet, and a balanced (and full) checkbook.
Maybe it's no surprise that much of today's hunger for things spiritual is being met outside of traditional churches and formal religious institutions. In some ways, our present world is remarkably similar to a time over 800 years ago when Francis transformed his world and renewed an entire church by a simple but revolutionary act: practicing the Christian faith as it had never been practiced before...
in the appearance of his life, in the simplicity of his words, in the purity of his heart, in his love for God, in his fraternal charity, in his ardent obedience, in his peaceful submission... - Thomas of Celano
So... as I asked at the beginning of this meditation... Why Francis?
I will try to address that in several snipets, explaining some of the various facets of his life that attract me to his life and teachings:
He practiced what he preached - At a time like ours, the beginning of the third milennium, we find a world where wrapping oneself in the rhetoric of godliness is a sure way to win votes, to gain respect, or to sell records and/or books. Francis, on the otherhand, is a startling example of someone who lived his faith more than he talked about it. In his many private moments, his relationships, and his public ministry, he pointed a probing finger at himself - his own weaknesses and shortcomings - instead of busying himself with the failings of others. By an example of a simple and radically committed life, he revealed a sometimes mysterious Christ to a world that could not, or often would not, see him.
He was real - Far too often, books about saints and godly men and women read like religious fairy tales - devoid of all dramatic tension or suspense. But, because he came to God from a life of worldly successes and carefree disbelief, Francis is the very opposite of an otherworldly stained-glass saint. Saintly without being sanctimonious, Francis knew sin firsthand in his own personal life, not merely as an abstract theological dogma but as a personal reality and weakness.
He was radical - For many people today, being "Christian" is roughly equivalent in time and emotional commitment to being a member of a neighborhood bridge club, having a seat at the local Elks/Moose/Eagles lodge, or getting the family car serviced. Unfortunately, this type of Christianity is often viewed as just another civic affiliation - an acquired habit or social ritual. Francis saw another alternative: a spark of divine love that ignited a bonfire that burned away all indifference and sparked a radical, uncompromising faith. Francis desired - above all else and minute-by-minute - to follow God more closely.
He was loving - People who came into Francis' very presence could sense the love he felt for them and were drawn closer to his embracing warmth, his compassionate concern, and his willingness to spend himself in serving their needs. His manner held no judgmentalism, no remote transcendentalism, no icy intellectualism. In our world, where clashes over religion and deeply held values divide people around the globe, we could learn much from Francis, a model for respect and civility.
He was passionate - God, for Francis, was not a dry theological concept. The Christian life is not a collection of dusty religious rules and rituals. Instead, his faith was that of of man who passionately and desperately loved God. We could do well to embrace such passion.
He gives us hope - Francis' emphasis on innocence, hope, and the positive possibilities of faith in God gives me encouragement that underneath all the barnacles, callouses, scabs, scars, and cultural accretions that burden the current state of Christianity - and obscure it from view - there is a pure, powerful heartbeat of love that continues to draw us closer to God.
I come to this from a little bit of history and life in the latter half of the 20th Century, coming to early adulthood in the last days of the 1960s - a period of social turmoil, heightened spiritual searching, and terrific hope for the future. I was quite happy to be a part of that burgeoning movement that seemed to demand answers to hard questions and sought to reinvent society from bottom up. I remember making a personal mantra out of the code words of the day: "Make the world a better place!"
But - certain inconsistencies in the movement kept interrupting, startling, and troubling me. Protesters who argued for peace were not opposed to using force and even violence when it suited them or their objective. People searching for a mystical revelation experimented with mind-transforming (and harmful) drugs, dabbled in extremes, and became so clouded and myopic that they lost all passion for their spiritual pursuits, changing the world, or even making it through the day.
My own hunger for spiritual answers took a different form. In college, I became a member of Campus Crusade, becoming a fuming fundamentalist, a walking, talking "Jesus Freak" who could (and did) quote the Bible or dispense judgment at the drop of a hat. Presented with a problem, I had just the appropriate Bible verse. I was angry; I was arrogant. Unfortunately, I was also horrible to be around. All of this... in the name of Jesus.
I knew something was wrong, though, and wrestled with soul-searching questions. Hadn't I done exactly as I was supposed to do? Wasn't I the "good boy" I was expected to be? Where were the answers? In the end, I concluded that the Christianity I was living and the Christianity I saw around me were nothing like what I read about in the Gospels. The answers had to be elsewhere.
Convinced that organized religion was, in some way, part of the problem rather than part of the solution, I began to study other spiritual paths: Zen Buddhism, Druidism, Taoism. I even sought solice in the teachings of the Native American religions espoused by some of the more popular authors of the 60s and 70s. But none of these seemed to answer that deep-seated need to know and serve God.
In my search for answers, I re-found Francis and his teachings. I have known him and his teachings for a long while, but I am now committed to following him. Francis did it:
He was the genuine article: a human being who sought the same things I have been seeking - a way to live and serve God while still being "in the world".He lived a balanced and beautiful Christian life.
He lived a life of poverty when all I was seeing were typical, upper middle-class American Christians trying to balance their love of God with their love of money.
He lived a life of mystical connection to God when all I saw was a cold and rationalistic form of Christianity that was all head and no heart.
He lived a life of gentleness when all I saw was an arrogant, aggressive, my-way-or-the-highway Christianity.
He lived a life of joy and radical commitment when all I saw was an antiseptic, pedantic, down-the-middle-of-the-road kind of Christianity that killed the spirit and squashed the joy.
I loved this article, and want to know more. Would you be willing to discuss in future articles Franciscan approaches to problems of today? In his day, he was loving of others, but how tolerant was he of their bad actions? I'm referring to those things you mention in your article that you see / saw in today's Christianity which certainly existed in his. What was his reaction, and how should we react today to the same issues?
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