Gnaw on This: The Feast of St. Francis

The Gospel isn’t meant to be gulped down on Sunday morning, but gnawed on through the week so it really becomes a part of us. You’ve got to work at it, like a dog with a good bone! Here’s the Gospel for this coming Sunday — the Feast of St. Francis — with food for thought on finding rest for our souls. Gnaw away!

St. Francis Gospel – Matthew 11:25-30

Jesus prayed, “Almighty God, Creator of heaven and earth, to you I offer praise; for what you have hidden from the learned and the clever, you have revealed to the youngest children.  Yes, God, everything is as you want it to be.” Jesus continued, “Everything has been handed over to me by God. No one knows the Only Begotten except God, and no one knows God except the Only Begotten – and those to whom the Only Begotten wants to give that revelation. Come to me, all you who labor and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart. Here you will find rest for your souls, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

The Backstory – What’s Going On Here?

We skip out of the lectionary for a Sunday to observe the Feast of St. Francis. That takes us from Mark to Matthew … and back to a portion of a reading we heard last summer.

This passage is best heard in the context of what precedes it, which is a condemnation:

What picture shall I give you for this generation?’ asked Jesus. ‘It’s like a bunch of children sitting in the town square, and singing songs to each other. This is how it goes: You didn’t dance when we played the flute, You didn’t cry when we sang the dirge!

Jesus has words of judgment not to those who don’t work hard enough or even those who do evil. Here Jesus has words of judgment to those who don’t dance and cry. It is with that ringing in our ears that we hear these words of praise and relief.

A few things to chew on:

*When Jesus sent the disciples out he bid them be “wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” Here he rejoices that God has “hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.”  This isn’t an anti-intellectual screed but a reminder that our intellect, like anything else, can become an idol. We can be too smart for our own good. Repeatedly in Matthew, Jesus links receptivity to the Kingdom of God with being like a child — not lacking in maturity, but rather unencumbered by all the heavy burdens we acquire as we go through life. All the ways we have been convinced that we are not created in God’s image and good. All the ways we have been convinced that it is all about us and all up to us. All the ways that we have become afraid to dance when we hear the flute and afraid to mourn when others wail.

Try This:

Jesus says: “Here you will find rest for your souls.”

When we think of what God wants from us, we tend to think of it the way we think of most everything else – as a to do list … or sometimes as a “thou shalt not” list! And yet, here Jesus says something different. God’s dream for us is to find rest for our souls.

God’s desire for us is not burnout or maximizing our potential for production. Jesus says “Come to me, all you who labor and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

Jesus longs for us to have rest.

This week, take a few minutes each day and just … do nothing. Rest. Breathe. Just be. Live in a place even for a few minutes where you are not judged, where you have no demands on your time, no expectations of production. Rest, and remember that you are beautiful, powerful and deeply, deeply loved.

Our natural state

Nearly every human being who has ever lived shares one experience.

At the moment of our birth, someone looked on us and saw us as beautiful.

Even if it was only for a moment. Even if it never happened again.

At that moment of birth, someone looked on us and recognized that we are – each of us – a miracle.

From that moment on, we can – and often do – have radically different experiences of being seen. And how others have seen us and treated us has shaped how we see ourselves. It has shaped so much about us.

And … there is deep, deep truth in that first moment. It is a truth that we need to live. Infants who do not have it – who are rejected from the moment of birth – almost always die.

And yet this truth – that we are beautiful, that each of us is a miracle – is one that so often gets covered up. Too often gets drowned out.

Jesus says: “for what you have hidden from the learned and the clever, you have revealed to the youngest children.”

I wonder if what Jesus was talking about was that. That moment as the youngest of children when the eyes looking at us had nothing but awe and love.

Before we could be called too thin or too fat. Too short or too tall. Too smart or too stupid. Too anything or not enough something.

Before we could be wounded and be told we deserved it.

Before we could be lied to and learned not to trust.

Before we could be told what we did and how much we produced was more important than who we are.

If you are alive and reading this, chances are the moment you were born, someone looked on you as beautiful and miraculous.

Today, no matter how that person treated you from that point onward, remember that they were right.

Check out the rest of Sunday’s readings

The Lectionary Page has all of the readings for this Sunday and every
Sunday – click here for this Sunday’s readings.

Collect for Sunday

Pray this throughout the week as you gnaw on this Gospel.

Most High, omnipotent God, grant your people grace to renounce gladly the vanities of this world; that, following the way of blessed St. Francis, we may for love of you delight in your whole creation with perfectness of joy; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.  Amen.

Translate