Sunday, October 7, 2012

October 7, 2012 - St. Francis Day


Almighty and eternal God, so draw our hearts to you, so guide our minds, so fill our imaginations, so control our wills, that we may be wholly yours, utterly dedicated unto you; and then use us, we pray, as you will, and always to your glory and the welfare of your people; through our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
            Today we celebrate the Feast of St. Francis, our patron saint. We all know the stories of Francis. He lived from 1181-1226, spending most of his time in Assisi. He is remembered for his great care of the earth and animals. Francis was born into a wealthy family, but rejected his birthright in favor of living more freely for God. We also remember him for developing the usage of crèches or nativity sets. He also founded the order of the Franciscans and received the stigmata during prayer. And we remember him in our community for his ideals of simplicity, compassion, and hope. Today, I want to focus on reading these lessons through the lens of Franciscan spirituality.
            Our readings today center on what some scholars call the Great Invitation, referring to Jesus inviting his audience to “come to me, all of you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens.” Often it is used to give comfort to those in a tough situation, but it’s a rather ironic passage.
            Jesus says that those who are weary should take his yoke upon them, because it is easy and light. The way this saying is often applied, you’d think Jesus was talking about some sort of relaxing massage technique for your shoulders. But yokes are used for work animals, for hard labor, or to detain prisoners. It is ironic that Jesus uses an instrument of hard work as a metaphor for getting rest. Yokes are about submission and labor, no one hearing Jesus would have thought a yoke was restful. But yet Jesus suggests that his yoke is about liberation, freedom, and rest.
Francis understood this irony. He said that true joy comes not from success, but from rejection and suffering, which causes us to think of Jesus’ suffering. He wasn’t saying that suffering is good, but rather is that it is natural and God is present in all situations, the good and the bad. And it is often in those tough situations that we come closest to God. And for that, Francis embraced suffering. Francis lived this irony of finding rest in the yoke of service.
We’ll start with the yoke as a burden before turning to its rest. It is interesting that Jesus speaks about his yoke being easy just a few weeks before his crucifixion. Many of the disciples will also be crucified for following Jesus. That doesn’t seem very light to me. This yoke isn’t a free pass. Francis certainly understood this when he chose to leave his wealthy family for the poverty of serving others.
The work of Francis was about simplicity- working with a single-minded focus on loving and serving those in need. He focused on what was important. He didn’t concern himself with wealth, or prestige, or power because he understood that those are distractions. As we are in the midst of a financial stewardship campaign, this is a good reminder for us to focus on simplicity. Deciding what matters most in life, and aligning our budgets to match accordingly.
Francis also lived compassionately. A quick word study will remind us that compassion is a compound word which literally means to suffer with. Francis certainly bore this yoke of suffering with people and animals. There are stories of him reaching out to lepers and other outcasts. And by serving them, he too became an outcast. Francis often reflected on the suffering of Christ on the cross and strove to compassionately suffer with all those in need for the sake of building the Kingdom of God on earth as it is in heaven.
And Francis had hope. We often think of hope as a nice, uplifting feeling. And that’s not a completely inaccurate view of hope. But hope is hard work. In the prayer of St. Francis, we see that he really had to work to find light, joy, faith, and pardon where there was darkness, sadness, doubt, and injury. As a bishop once remarked “we Christians are called to be a people of miraculous expectation; our ministry is the miracle of our hope.” Hope is what allows us to take on the burden of Jesus’ yoke, even though we know that the cross is on the horizon.
            These virtues of simplicity, compassion, and hope seem wonderful, and they are, but they are also full of hard work. Francis put a lot of emphasis on Creation, because he saw it as the labor of God. I’ve always been partial to the theology of continuing creation- the idea that God didn’t just create everything and then took a leave of absence, but rather that Creation is ongoing. And this makes sense. If the story of Genesis is based on the idea of a week, it only makes sense that the next week starts after the first. Creation is continually being recreated by God. It is not that God was the Creator, but that God is the Creator. God’s work continues today.
Even in the wording of Creation, “let there be…” there is a sense of growing into being. In the Hebrew, the verb for “let there be” is in the imperfect tense, giving a nuance of an uncompleted or ongoing action. God created the light, but he didn’t flip the light switch. Think of it more as a dimmer switch; the light is continually growing brighter. Francis saw his work in Creation as working to continue the Creation to more fully reflect the love and majesty of God.
As we’ve seen in the life of Francis, there is a lot of work to do in taking Jesus’ yoke upon us.  So how is it that all of this work of being yoked to Jesus leads to rest, a rest which we so desperately need? When Jesus says “take my yoke upon you and learn from me” he was likely referring to a double-yoke. This was a common technique where two animals would have been linked together to do harder labor, but to split it evenly to make it possible. There are some tasks that we simply can’t do alone- the task of discipleship is a two-person job. But, ironically, in working with Jesus, we are given a sense of rest, despite our labors.
            This rest comes from the idea of Sabbath found in Genesis. To understand this passage, we must take a critical look at it. I hope this doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone, but this story from Genesis is not a literal one, but it is very theological. This Creation story was very likely written in the 6th century BC, during the time of the Exile in Babylon. The Hebrew people were facing an identity crisis; their world no longer made sense. And so this story began to circulate: that the God of Israel was the Creator of the world. This was an important story for them to tell, because their Babylonian captors claimed that it was Marduk, a Babylonia god, who created the world. But this story insists that it was Yahweh that did the creating, and continues to do so.
            The story was a reminder that God can be trusted, even against the contemporary data of being in Exile. And the same is true for us. Though we might live in the exiles of disease, poverty, doubt, abandonment, unemployment, or war, this Creation story proclaims that God is present and in charge of all that is.
Genesis was never intended to explain how the world was created, but rather the method of its creation, and this was through the words and will of God. The Hebrews would have been comforted by this story of God creating out of chaos, because they lived in chaos. At its core, this is a story of hope.
            It is with this background that we can understand the idea of Sabbath rest. The Sabbath rest was a radical act of faith against the Babylonians. Jews would have been identifiable by their not-working on the Sabbath, by their Sabbath prayers. To be Jewish was to practice the Sabbath. And this is something that we’ve really lost sight of. As a people of faith, we need to reclaim the Sabbath. And I say this not only because we need some downtime, because we do; but I say this because part of being faithful disciples is in our ability to partake in God’s work and God’s rest.
            The reason why the Sabbath was so radical is because God rested. The God of Israel had the ability to rest from creating, not because it was so tiring and God needed a break, but because God was satisfied with Creation, calling it very good. God was confident enough to rest. Unlike the gods of Babylonia, our God spent an entire day in serenity and peace.
            In practicing Sabbath, we, like God, realize that life doesn’t depend on our feverish activity of trying to do it all, but knowing that there can be a pause where life is simply a gift. To practice to Sabbath is to practice confidence and hope. There is no such thing as a life without stress or tasks. We can work our fingers to the bone and still have more work to do. We’re fooling ourselves if we think that not observing Sabbath will actually get us any closer to our goals.
To practice Sabbath is to say “I trust God enough to get out of the rat race and take a few moments to enjoy life.” Sabbath reminds us that the world is in God’s hands, not ours. If we take a day off, believe it or not, the world will keep on going. After we die, Creation will continue. We can stop and take a break because the world isn’t dependent on us. Instead, the world is dependent on God. So Sabbath rest is a bold declaration of this faith. And in being freed from being over burdened, we are free to be yoked with Jesus.
            I’m not necessarily saying that this means that we need to stay away from the grocery store and soccer fields on Sundays, though that would be a good place to start. If you’re stressed on the Sabbath, then you’re not keeping the Sabbath. If our Sunday activities preclude us from worshipping God in community, then we’ve lost sight of the very reason for the Sabbath. For the Hebrews, taking a day off made them stick out like a thumb in Babylonian culture, and that was just the point. Let’s make the Sabbath radical in our lives. Let’s make sure we take a day to enjoy Creation, to rest from the labors of the week, to abound in God’s providence.
            And it is with this understanding of Sabbath rest that we can begin to understand what Jesus meant by the irony of saying that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. There is a certain freedom that we are granted in practicing Sabbath, in trusting God as our yoke-mate. In being able to rest, we are able take up Jesus’ yoke. The saying is that the hardest burden to carry is having no burden to carry, and Jesus gives us a yoke to carry which blesses us with purpose and meaning.
            Jesus’ yoke is built upon our confidence of God’s providence and continuing care for all of Creation. It is easy to take Jesus’ yoke upon us because it is easier to love than to hate, because forgiveness is a lighter load than carrying around vengeance, compassion is lighter to carry than anger. The word that Jesus uses for “easy” might be better translated as “having a good fit.” Walking the way of Jesus and practicing the radical act of Sabbath is not easy in the sense that we can do it with little effort, but that it will give us harmony by being a good fit for living the life of faith.
            Though it is ironic, the work of being yoked with Jesus leads to our Sabbath rest. St. Francis lived this reality by submitting himself to the work of God, and in doing so, was given rest and the freedom to live simply, compassionately, and hopefully. He lived in the spirit of the wisdom of this creation story from Genesis, knowing that the Sabbath is a radical act of faith that testifies to our confidence in God. We, too, can be confident that God is delighted in Creation, and we are invited to take some time each week to rest in this delight. By spending time in Sabbath rest, we are free to carry the burden of Jesus’ yoke.
            I’d like to close with the fourfold blessing of Francis, which speaks of this ironic relationship between rest and work:
May God bless you with a restless discomfort about easy answers, half truths and superficial relationships, so that you may seek truth boldly and love deep within your heart.
May God bless you with holy anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may tirelessly work for justice, freedom, and peace among all people.
May God bless you with the gift of tears to shed with those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, or the loss of all that they cherish, so that you may reach out your hand to comfort them and transform their pain into joy.
May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you really can make a difference in this world, so that you are able, with God's grace, to do what others claim cannot be done.
Amen.