Tag: St Francis

The Love of God for us

There is a story about a Vicar who was baptising a baby in a very large font. The baby slipped from his grasp and disappeared under the water. With presence of mind,he thrust his hand into the font and fished around, saying as he did so, “I know he’s in here, somewhere!”

That’s how I sometimes feel about Jesus and the Christmas hype. In the days and weeks before Christmas we get a bit manic and caught up in frantic activity which has very little to do with the real Christmas. Yet, amidst all the trappings of Christmas and all the false trails we are led along by commercialism or fantasy, there is a real message to be discovered. For Christians there is a real Jesus to be found; an Incarnation to celebrate; and a true God to thank for his greatest gift to the human race – the gift of Jesus as a supreme statement of His love for us all. It’s a truth – Jesus is in there, somewhere. We simply have to pause and be still to discover him.

One of the places I discovered him is a little mountain village in Italy called Greccio. Above the village there is a church, built on the site of a very special event which was to have a profound influence on the way we celebrate Christmas and understand its real message.

At Greccio in 1223, St. Francis of Assisi decided that he wanted to celebrate Christmas in a rather special way.
Christmas Day was always a day of special joy to him and in his mind and heart he would relive in spirit the Bethlehem event. It was always a great source of wonder to him that God had taken our likeness and become one of us in Jesus.

At that special Christmas in 1223 Francis spoke to one of the gentleman knights of Greccio and said: “I would like to celebrate the next feast of the Redeemer with you. I would like to recall his birth in Bethlehem in order to see all the poverty he endured from his birth to save us sinners.”
The knight wondered how he would be able to help St Francis to do this and Francis explained: “I want you to put a manger filled with hay in the cave you own on the mountain and I would like you to bring an ox and an ass exactly as at Bethlehem. On Christmas night, I will come up there and, together, we will pray in the cave.”

The knight did as Francis asked and as Christmas Day approached, a great procession made its way up the mountain track. The Franciscan friars were joined by the villagers, shepherds from the surrounding hills and local farmers. Their torches punctuated the darkness with light and the air was filled with song as the friars sang a special hymn which Francis had composed:
“God is our strength. The great and holy Lord sent from the heavens above, his Son born of the Virgin Mary. A chosen Child has been given us and placed in a manger.”

Reaching the cave they were greeted by a crib scene – no longer a distant scene in historic Bethlehem brought to their lives by a biblical text. It was there before them. It was as if, that year, Bethlehem was brought to the top of the mountain of Greccio and they were as much a part of it as those Shepherds long ago. The Eucharist was celebrated on a small altar and Francis explained the Christmas Gospel – and then, he took a small child from amongst those gathered and laid him gently in the hay. There before them a defenceless child symbolized a vulnerable God who chose to become involved in our lives as one of us in order to bring to birth his love in our hearts.
As the Eucharist was celebrated so they each came forward to receive the sacrament of Holy Communion and their involvement was complete.
Jesus who had come to the world at Bethlehem came into their lives under the form of a piece of bread – vulnerably he placed himself into their hands, as defenceless as he had been in the manger – and it was their hands cupped to receive him which became the crib. Behind all this they discovered the profound truth of Christmas – that love had come to them; they were deeply loved.

The farmers and shepherds and villagers returned home full of joy. It is said that the night was glittering so bright that there was no longer need for their torches to light the way. Each of them was aglow with Christmas light and hope.
They had all been touched by God and had been caught up into heaven as they discovered in the simplest yet most profound way possible the truth that in the birth of the Christ-child they had been drawn into the life of the :
Great little one whose all-embracing birth
Brings earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth.

Of course, what happened in 1223 in Greccio was just a beginning. As a result of what Francis did cribs are to be found in almost every Christian church, many city, town and village centres and all places where Christ’s birth is celebrated.
Children gaze in wonder; adults are reduced to awe; prayers are said and hopes and longings find a focus; sadnesses are poured out and joys are celebrated. The image of the Christ child in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger draws people to contemplate the mystery of God born in our midst in so fragile an environment, so vulnerable a birth. And each one of us who celebrate Christmas is drawn into an involvement with the real Christmas.
Like the villagers, farmers and shepherds in central Italy long ago, we have been invited to discover that God really does love us. In our dark and vulnerable world of today we do need to hear and believe that!

This has not been the easiest year for the human race and so many are left feeling unprotected and fragile. We are less secure and less certain; Ours is a much darker world than it was last Christmas.
In Bethlehem today, as in many places of the world, there is not the stillness of that much loved Carol, Silent Night.
The Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell, in his Christmas message from Bethlehem, spoke of a silence of those feeling abandoned,living in tension, fear, turmoil. He spoke, too, of the people in Gaza and the West Bank and the pain and difficulties of their lives. Archbishop Stephen urged us all to pray, “as never before for peace in the Holy Land.”

A meaningful peace is formed in hearts of love. It’s needed also in the Ukraine, the Sudan, Syria and so many areas of global conflict where there is struggle between human beings fighting each other in the name of ideologies which bring conflict. Bethlehem has become synonymous of all that is not pure and lovely in humanity and all that is wrong in the human heart. For many, the answer has been to live for themselves but we are all involved with each other.
We need to hear that we are loved and valued and of infinite worth. We need to feel secure enough to reach out in love to others.
The crib of Christ offers us that security, albeit from the most vulnerable place imaginable – the innocent heart of a babe born in the very margins of society and in the most inauspicious of circumstances.
Yet from the crib, Godly love pours out to us drawing from us awe and wonder of a God who is prepared to risk everything and who is prepared to love us despite what we do to him and to each other. In our own need and vulnerability, we should rediscover this.

Here are words of the late Mother Jane SLG, a nun whom I had the privilege of knowing personally and whose wisdom lives on for us.
“If we have the courage to admit the reality of our situation, that we can rely only on God, we are open to receive the glory which will shine in every corner of our lives and ourselves, showing up the shadows more starkly, but inflaming us with a delight in God that keeps our perspective right and helps us to accept and transcend our own and other peoples’ shortcomings because the love of God is so much more important.”

The Love of God is so much more important – because of Christmas he is in our lives somewhere. May we discover that He is in our hearts. It will make all the difference.

[Mr G. Christmas Eve 2025]

I love that God loves me

*Photo taken in Latton Vicarage Garden by my, friend, The Revd. Lynn Hurry*

Readers of this blog at the end of July may remember that Lynn, my Vicar, reflected on the squirrels which frequented the Vicarage garden.
She accompanied her thoughts with a photograph of a squirrel raiding the vicarage strawberry patch. She was in the act of stealing an unripe but rather plump strawberry. I say ‘stealing’, but I’m sure that the offender would say that it was simply a re-distribution of wealth. A Christian view may be that it was a sharing in God’s bountiful provision for the sustaining of all.

“Umph! ” I can just hear some people mutter. My friend, Mary Bard, who won the picture competition last year with a photo of a squirrel thwarted whilst attempting to steal peanuts , may disagree with my loving view of squirrels!

But there is always hope for repentance and redemption in God’s scheme of things!

As we see in Lynn’s latest photographs the squirrel is seeking sanctuary with St. Francis. She sits in the basket and is assured of a ready welcome and acceptance. I think there are signs here of her need for forgiveness and who better to scamper to but St. Francis.
True, she later uses the stone squirrel on the statue to quietly munch a morsel of food, which may have been in the Saints’ basket! Of course, she didn’t steal it. St. Francis (in the guise of Vicar Lynn) always leaves some tit bits around for the animals and birds. On ths occasion, it is a sign of forgiveness because of the squirrel’s repentance.

Maybe that little squirrel teaches us two things.

First when we return to the Lord after some act of unlove or sin, then He always forgives the repentant sinner.
Secondly, once we know we are forgiven we are fed anew with God’s love.
In the squirrel’s case this has come in the form of a peanut.
Yours comes with a sense of God’s grace bursting joyfully in your heart.
Try to love that God loves you!

Dear St Francis,
Thank you for sharing God’s loving care with me,
even when I’m just a tiny bit naughty.
I’m sorry I stole the strawberries.
Thank you for the peanuts.
Please tell God that I love that He loves me, no matter what.
Could you please remind Him to tell other people that too.
They do need to know it quite often.
Amen

[Mr.G.]

All that I am I give to You

*photo: Mr. G. from a poster at Santiago de Compostella*

This week I have been reflecting on St. Francis whose feast day was last Monday.

His love of the poor, of creation and those with incurable diseases makes him quite a contemporary saint. In these worrying times about the state of the planet and the way we are treating the poor in Britain as well as in the Third World, Francis has much to say to us as a warning. The prevalence and threat of Covid on a global scale may seem much greater than the people with leprosy but it is the reaching out with compassion and kindness, touching people where people suffer which is part of his great message of love and inclusivity for all.For Frances all creation praises God from Brother Sun to Sister Moon, from all who have little to the very wealthy, from death to eternal life.

He also taught of God with deep simplicity and we are grateful to him for the way he taught the Incarnation not in theological treatise but visually by inventing the Christmas Crib.

One of the most popular images is of him is feeding the birds and his praise of all creation is, for many, embedded in that image.
The fact that we know these stories, along with many other popular anecdotes, miracles, and events is because they were published as a collection titled, The Little Flowers of St. Francis.
Written or collected quite a while after his death, and therefore not a primary source for his life, it nevertheless captures and presents a spirit which is truly Franciscan.
The collection became deeply popular and it has been described as one of the most delightful literary works of the Middle Ages.
It was translated into Italian by an unknown Franciscan friar, from a much larger work. It has 53 short chapters and is often printed with The Mirror of Perfection, a reflection from Brother Leo, a special companion of Francis, in which he illustrates the distinctiveness of Franciscan life and spirituality.
Leo draws on the personal experience of life as one of the first of the Friars.

The Little Flowers sheds a light on the way Francis and his Companions (with St.Clare and those who prayed with her), paved the way for an imitation of the Franciscan way of life, witness and spirituality which continues to enrich both church and world today.
There are many, many editions of The Little Flower and it is easily available.

So, I want to end my week of personal reflection with a story from the Little Flowers.
It has something profound to say to most of us, I suspect:

Francis and a companion once visited the home of a rich man, late in the evening. The nobleman welcomed them with open arms and, we are told, received them as if they had been angels of God, with courtesy and devotion.
The man embraced them, washed their feet, wiped them and humbly kissed them. He kindled a fire, made ready the table with much food and served it with a joyful countenance.
He then prepared beds and offered many gifts. In the morning, he provided fresh clothing. If the brothers needed clothing, he would always pay for it. He professed that he was ready to provide for all their needs. He could do this because of all that God had provided him. He willingly would give of this to the poor.

The man, having done such a lovely thing also rejoiced and prayed for Francis.When Francis left him with great rejoicing he held the man in his heart and in his prayers.
Francis knew however that there was more. He had looked into his eyes and had not rested until he saw into his soul.
He said to his companion, “He would make a good friar. He is so grateful and thankful to God and so kind and courteous to his neighbour and to the poor.”
He reminded his brother that courtesy is one of the attributes of God who gives us all we need and is courteous and kind and loving towards us. These things he found in the man’s soul – the divine imprint.

Francis determined to return again soon to his house.
When Francis re-visited the area he called on the man again.

First, he knelt in prayer at the gate.
The man saw him and rushed down the drive to kneel besides Francis.
God was speaking to both their hearts and Francis lifted him up, and ‘in fervour and gladness of heart embraced him and kissed him, devoutly giving thanks to God,’ who had brought to him a new friar.
The man asked, ‘what do you command me to do, my father? Lo I am ready to do your bidding and give all I possess to the poor and thus, no longer held back by worldly things, to follow Christ with you.’

And so he did.

The nobleman had given out of the generosity of his heart and his means when Francis first visited him. He gave so much for the mission of Jesus Christ being carried out by Francis and his companions. But for him, there was something missing. Something he still had to give.The only gift that God truly wants from any and all of us. He gave himself. He joined Francis in his work. He gave his heart, his soul.

Make of this story what you will.

[Mr G]

Rebuild my Church

In 1181 a boy was born to a wealthy merchant family in Assisi. He was baptized Giovanni but became more popularly known by the name Francesco. It was always thought that he would eventually take over the family business as a prominent cloth merchant. Francis was, however, a spirited and rebellious youth. His wayward ways put him at loggerheads with his father, a relationship made all the more difficult when he was imprisoned for brawling with a neighbourhood gang.

This imprisonment changed him, though not to the liking of his father. He began to be concerned for the poor and especially for lepers. He threw away his clothes and renounced his father’s wealth. At the age of 20, he heard a different Father speaking to him. Go make disciples of all nations was what he heard. Francis rushed away from home and came to a derelict church of St. Damiano on the edge of Assisi. There he knelt in prayer and looked at the faded crucifix still hanging over the altar. Francis insists that the voice of Christ came to him at that moment. The words he heard were: Francis, rebuild my church, which you see is falling down. Eager to be given a specific task, Francis set about repairing the church. Other young people joined him and soon St. Damiano’s became a church again.

But, as is so often, God’s vision is wider than our understanding. We do what we think God wants and find that there is more. What God really wanted Francis to do was the rebuild not just St. Damiano’s, but THE Church. It was a time of spiritual decay and of disdain for God’s little ones in need — the poor, the lame, the leprous. Even the care of the Natural world was being neglected. The story of St. Francis and his companions is well known and he is especially remembered on October 4th. His work among the poor; his care for creation; his love of the simple. His devotion to Christ. These were the building blocks of a restoration of the Church. Francis through his simplicity of life and determination to serve God did exactly what God asked of him. He rebuilt the Church spiritually and gave it new vision.

Rebuild My Church! This call of God comes to Christians today. There is a wide vision to be embraced. God is calling us to reshape, refashion and renew His Church. We are being equipped, through prayer and conversation with God and each other, to be God’s dynamic people. We are being called to tell the story of His Love to all people with whom we have dealings, including our friends, neighbours and family but also those we have yet to meet, whom God will put in our way. God is calling us to rebuild the vision of his love both in our own hearts and in the lives of those whom he calls us to serve. But, as with Francis, it starts with ourselves and it starts today.