Rend Your Heart, by Jan Richardson

Day 25 : A Contemplative Activist | St. Francis of Assisi

“At all times and seasons, in every country and place, every day and all day, we must have a true and humble faith.” – St. Francis

What is a contemplative activist?

As Christ-followers, mirroring His incarnational work in the world, we have been given a rich legacy in the lives of the saints and other heroes of the faith, those men and women who modeled for us the lives of contemplative activism. When answers are few and far between, we look to them who have drawn near to the poor in their distress, giving us an example to follow.

We define “contemplative activists” as those walking the Jesus rhythm. Jesus went up the mountain to be with His Father and pray and then returned to his life of service, engagement, and action, walking in the places of the world that needed mending. As Anglicans loving “the least of these,” we believe that our lives of prayer form the source of our work among the vulnerable. In turn, our closeness to suffering shapes our prayer lives and understanding of Christ as the Ultimate Healer and Savior.


God’s Fool ~ St. Francis of Assisi, by sculptor Frank C. Gaylord at Saints Peter and Paul Cemetery, Naperville, Illinois.

Our contemplative activist this week is none other than the patron saint of ecology, animals, and merchants: St. Francis of Assisi.

St Francis is remembered for his bond with Creation and for going from riches to rags in true upside-down kingdom fashion. 

Brother Thomas of Celano, Francis’ disciple and first biographer, wrote: “St. Francis praised the Artist in every one of his works; whatever he found in things made, he referred to their Maker. He rejoiced in all the works of the Lord’s hands, and with joyful vision saw into the reason and cause that gave them life. In beautiful things he came to know Beauty itself. To him all things were good. They cried out to him, ‘He who made us is infinitely good.” By tracing His footprints in things, Francis followed the Beloved wherever He led. He made from created things, a ladder to His throne.”

Born in 1226 in Assisi, Italy, Francis grew up in a wealthy family. His father was a successful cloth merchant and his mother a lady. As a young man, everyone loved Francis—he was charming, charismatic, and a natural leader of his peers in their “worldy” exploits.

His father planned to train his son in his merchant ways, but Francis wanted the glory and prestige of a knight. His time came when Assisi declared war on a neighboring town. Not long into the war, however, he was taken prisoner and remained in prison for a full year. He subsequently attempted to join the papal forces under Count Gentile against the emperor Frederick II in Apulia in late 1205.

This is when Francis had his first encounter with God. On his way to join the war, he had a vision of God calling him to return home and become a different kind of knight. He was greeted with disdain and accusations of cowardice, but he was resolved to follow the Lord’s calling. 

“He came to a spot where a large flock of birds of various kinds had come together. When God’s saint saw them, he quickly ran to the spot and greeted them as if they were endowed with reason….

He went right up to them and solicitously urged them to listen to the word of God, saying,  ‘Oh birds, my brothers and sisters, you have a great obligation to praise your Creator, who clothed you in feathers and gave you wings to fly with, provided you with pure air and cares for you without any worry on your part.’…The birds showed their joy in a remarkable fashion: They began to stretch their necks, extend their wings, open their beaks and gaze at him attentively.

He went through their midst with amazing fervor of spirit, brushing against them with his tunic. Yet none of them moved from the spot until the man of God made the sign of the cross and gave them permission to leave; then they all flew away together. His companions waiting on the road saw all these things. When he returned to them, that pure and simple man began to accuse himself of negligence because he had not preached to the birds before.”

St Bonaventure, The Life of St Francis

Another significant moment in Francis’ conversion was while he was praying at an ancient, crumbling church at San Damiano. He heard Christ say, “Repair my church.” Taking this literally, Francis stole fabric from his father to sell for money to repair the San Damiano church building. His father caught him and brought him before the religious authorities, who told him to return the money. Ever one for commitment, Francis tore all his clothes off but his undershirt and ran into the forest singing. Most saints and heroes of the faith have untidy stories, and some make us smile.

Francis now lived on his own in poverty, slowly repairing the old church. Others started to join him, attracted by his (literally) stripped-down way of life. His brotherhood was marked by their simple rule of life and heart for the poorest of the poor. A community of women also emerged called The Poor Clares. St Francis believed that poverty strengthened his faith as it removed barriers between him and worshipping God.

St. Francis felt a deep connection with creation, calling all animals “brother” and “sister," as we see in the story of preaching to the birds, described in St. Bonaventure's 1260AD biography.

Another story recounts St Francis befriending a wolf that had been terrorizing a nearby village, saying "Brother Wolf, I make peace with thee." And the wolf is said to have become a tame part of the community, fed and beloved, and mourned when he died of old age. This story reminds us of scripture, where the redeemed and renewed creation is described by the relationship among animals: "The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them" (Isaiah 11:6).

When St Francis began to go blind, he wrote the Canticle of the Sun – a prayer of praise to God for His creation. The prophetic poignancy of his condition draws us into the rich vision of a God soaked world that we are called to voice and contend for.

"May the power of your love, O Lord, fiery and sweet as honey, wean my heart from all that is under heaven, so that I may die for love of your love, you who were so good as to die for love of my love." – St. Francis

One of the Church's most beloved hymns, "All Creatures of our God and King," is attributed to St. Francis.   Meditate on the text below, and ask the Lord to show you how he sees His creation.  Does he have a word for you?

All creatures of our God and king
Lift up your voices and with us sing
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou burning with golden beam
Thou silver moon with softer gleam
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Thou rushing wind that art so strong
Ye clouds that sail in heav'n a long
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou rising morn in praise rejoice
Ye light of evening find a voice
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Thou flowing water pure and clear
Make music for thy Lord to hear
Alleluia, alleluia
Thou fire so masterful and bright
That gives to man both warmth and light
Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia.

Let all things their Creator bless,
and worship Him in humbleness;
O praise Him! Alleluia!
Praise, praise the Father, praise the Son,
and praise the Spirit, Three in One;
O praise Him, O praise Him!
alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!