A
Reflection on the Feast of St. Francis (transferred) All Saints
Church, Southern Shores, NC September 24, 2017 Thomas E. Wilson
Rector
Question
for meditation: How did you care for God’s creation this week?
Exodus
16:2-15 Matthew 11:25–30 Matthew
20:1-16
Blessing
of Pets
Today
we are going a little out of sequence - 11 whole days - and we
remember St. Francis of Assisi, whose feast day is October 4. The
Stewardship Committees over the years thought that our annual
celebration of St. Francis when we bless our pets might be a tad
rough to do on the same day as the breakfast kickoff of our annual
Stewardship pledge drive. I think I understand how difficult it is to
juggle that many balls in the air at the same time. But when I looked
at the lessons for today, I could only see a Stewardship theme. Heck,
every week has a Stewardship theme; but I’ll get to that.
The
Gospel passage from Matthew for the Feast of St. Francis Day is the
time when Jesus invites the disciples to make the decision to follow
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. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
They
are asked to accept the yoke of being connected to Jesus and to help
carry the burden of love. They are asked to give themselves away, to
no longer belong just to themselves but to Christ. To make a decision
to love is to give oneself away. Francis had lived his youth as a
pampered selfish child, and when he grew up, there was an emptiness
in him when he realized that all he loved was himself. When he made
the decision to follow Christ, he made the commitment to love what
Jesus loved. He became a steward —I told you we would get back to
it – of the poor, of the stranger, of the animals, of the
environment, of all creation. Jesus had given his life to be a
steward of his father’s creatures, and Francis dedicated himself to
do the work of Christ in this world. When he made a decision to love,
his life did not belong to himself alone; he was not his own person
to do what he wanted and not care about any other person. To love
means to belong to someone or something else.
I
did keep two of the lessons which we would have heard this Sunday as
a way of keeping on with the Hebrew Testament saga of Moses and the
people in the wilderness. They were worried that they wouldn’t
have enough, but God out of love, gave them all they needed; they
were given daily bread. This passage was important to Francis for he
went out into the world each day depending on God’s love to change
hearts, to be the providing of food to meet Francis and his disciples
needs, their daily bread.
One
of the ways I learned that lesson when I was a child was when my
father, who was working as a civil engineer building the Indiana
Turnpike at the time we were living in Ohio, brought home a medium-
sized black mutt who had been abandoned. My mother, having her hands
full with four children (my older brother was 7, I was six, my sister
4, and my little brother one), was not thrilled at the prospect.
However, the three who could speak begged her to relent. She listed
all the things we would need to do if we wanted Rex the Wonder dog,
as we named him, to abide with us. We made the promises and we all
lost part of ourselves on that day as we took on the yoke and helped
carry the burden. We became stewards of Rex that day, for he did not
belong to us – rather we belonged to him. Rex died of old age when
I was a senior in high school and he had been well loved - we can
only be a steward of something we love. When we became stewards, we
found it was a lot of work and heartache, it wasn’t easy, and at
times it was a heavy burden, but we also found that, on the whole,
love made the yoke easy and the burden seem light.
Having
a pet and a series of pets in my lifetime started me off being a
steward and gradually learning that loving responsibility, literally
the ability to respond with love, meant the world does not revolve
around me. I find my own meaning by giving myself away for something
greater than myself.
Now
some of you might suspect that I am avoiding the Gospel lesson for
the sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost which would have been from the
20th
chapter of Matthew where there the landowner pays his laborers the
same rate even though they worked different hours. Those who worked
all day felt resentful that, while they had agreed to work for the
usual daily wage, those who worked significantly fewer hours got the
same wage. This might seem unfair and in violation of the Fair Wage
and Standards Act which governs our economc systems. The word
“economy” comes from two Greek words for household and rules;
economics means House
Rules.
Jesus is making a point that the way that God rules the universe is
not based on merit but Grace. Every one of those workers needed to
make it through the day and the landowner paid out of love, out of
his own pocket, out of his own profit margin, paying the living wage,
the daily bread to all. God asks us to make our House Rules about
sharing life and love, not out of profit but out of love. The
landowner dies to himself in order to give love.
Jesus
said that we learn how to live into God’s Kingdom on earth, the
heaven of God, in this place and time, by dying to oneself. The way
of dying is to give parts of ourselves away so that we no longer live
only for ourselves and we share life and love.
Blessing
of Pets
My
dogs made me a much better person
when
they reminded me that I’m not the
center
of universe, a fat posh maharaja.
or
honored Poohbah; just a layperson,
a
servant called to love them and care
on
schedule, daily, every day by gosh,
walk,
feed, play and scratch, and wash
as
needed, agreeing to share bed, chair,
couch
or rugs to soak up the warm sun.
My
reward is knowing I’m the steward,
not
an owner of life, called as I heard
to
love and to share as my father’s son.
Rex,
Zeke, Molly, Frodo, Zoe, and Yoda,
taught
me to hum notes of God’s coda.
No comments:
Post a Comment