Welcome, everyone, and welcome to Abide.

And we are in this wonderfully rich series of ‘Walking with Jesus's Friends’, getting to know
these Saints. And we're on our fourth Saint today, and we'll be spending time with St.
Francis. And it's actually quite hard to put into words, or even into a meditation, a person
that you so admire or appreciate, and you sometimes stumble over how to explain or what
to focus on. And so, forgive me if I get emotional or stuck or unsure with my words
throughout this series because I just realize I'm in such honoured company with these
Saints.

It's often said that the friends that you hang out with, you start becoming like them. And
that is my desire, is that as we hang out with Jesus, as we spend time in His words, as we
spend time with people that have studied and given their lives to Jesus, that we too, will
become more and more like Jesus.

And so here we are again together, carving out a space in our day to be still and know that
He is God. And it's often just helpful to step away from our everyday thinking and living and
doing, so that we can be rooted, once again, in what is most important. And to live from
that place.

And so, wherever you are, let's just all start to get a little bit more settled in our spaces. I
know one of my friends said that he likes to listen to this podcast while he rakes leaves. So
maybe you are getting settled with your rake in hand, or maybe you are on a walk, or you're
sitting in the car, or the bus, or in a room with a closed door. Whatever the space is, or the
situation that you're in, we are here together with the Spirit of God, and this is a gift.
We're going to begin today’s prayer with just a practice I like to call a ‘be here now’
practice. Which means we start to just take in our environment with a greater sensitivity
with our senses.

So, let's first just take a nice deep breath in. And out. Just letting our bodies settle into the
space. And you might just gently open your eyes and scan the room that you're in, noticing 
the furniture, the light. Maybe you're outside and you can smell the air and hear the crisp
leaves underfoot. Maybe you're in your car and you're looking at all sides, and there's traffic
and packed vehicles on every side with human beings inside going to and fro in their days.
So just become more aware, starting to just name. Maybe even you name out loud what is
physically around you.

Be here now.
Listen.
See.
Taste.
Touch.

God has given us these senses so that we can encounter His presence. I often think of
what Richard Rohr once said, that God comes disguised as your life. So oftentimes we
have to quiet down and be in this present moment. To look around and see if you can find
God and see God through the light streaming in, through your neighbour right next to you,
through the sound and the feeling of the wind.

And this is one thing St. Francis is very much known for, is his ability to describe and fully
be immersed in his environment. And so, I'll read one of his small poems entitled, ‘Ring Out
My Clothes.’ “Such love does the sky now pour, that whenever I stand in a field, I have to
wring out the light when I get home.” Hear this sweet poem once again: “Such love does
the sky now pour, that whenever I stand in a field, I have to wring out the light when I get
home.”

This is a person who soaks in the environment and receives it as the presence of God.
So, I'm grateful to be in prayer with all of you now, and that we might all be soaking in our
different environments, recognising how close, how simple, how everyday, how ordinary
and yet extraordinary, is the presence of God.

And so, with that, with being more acutely aware of where we are physically, I'm going to
read our little story of Francis. And he lived in the time period of 1181 to 1226, in Italy. And
again, I'm reading from this lovely book, ‘Stories of the Saints,’ by Kerry Wallace.

“When Francis was a young man in the Italian city of Assisi, he spent all his father's money
on wild parties and fine clothes. But despite all the fun he seemed to be having, Francis
wanted something more, so he decided to go to war. His father, who was a merchant of
beautiful fabrics from all over the world, bought him a fantastic coat of armour decorated
with real gold. But on the way to battle, Francis saw a poor man in rags begging on the side 
of the road. Francis was moved by how much he had and how little the poor man did. So,
Francis gave the man his armour and took the man's rags as his own. That night, Francis
had a dream. ‘Who can give you more?’ God asked him in the dream. ‘The master or the
man?’ ‘The master,’ Francis said. ‘Then why are you following the man and not the
master?’ God asked him. Francis wasn't sure what that meant, but instead of going to
battle, he turned around and went home, determined to find out. And when he got to
Assisi, Francis didn't move back into his father's house. He spent his time in caves outside
the city, praying and waiting to hear the voice of God. He began to visit the sick and poor in
town, and he began to do things that seemed even stranger than that. One day, he gave
away all his family's bread to anyone who asked. Another day on the road, he saw a leper
who had a disease that made people afraid to even touch him. The leper was covered with
sores, but Francis still kissed the man's hand. When the man gave Francis a kiss of peace
in return, Francis was filled with joy. But when Francis looked back, the man had vanished.
The people of Assisi were disturbed by the change in Francis. They threw trash and rocks at
him when he passed by in the street. His father was even more upset. He beat Francis,
hoping to knock some sense into him. But one day, when Francis was praying in a ruined
church, he heard the voice of God again. ‘Francis,’ God told him, ‘Rebuild my church,
which you can see is crumbling.’ So, Francis took a pile of his father's silk and velvet and
sold it to get money to fix up the old church. Francis's father was furious. He thought
Francis was a thief, and he dragged Francis in front of the bishop and demanded that
Francis give his money back. Instead, Francis took off all the fine clothes that his father
had given him, until he was only wearing a shirt made from cheap, scratchy cloth. Then he
walked away, singing. From then on, Francis never owned anything. He only ate what
people gave him, and he only wore a long tunic of undyed wool. He preached about the
love of God to anyone who would listen, including the birds. They landed all over him while
he talked, and didn't fly off until he was done. He even talked once with a wolf, outside the
town of Gubbio. The wolf had been terrorising the town for months, eating anything it could
catch: chickens, cows, and even people. Any time a citizen of Gubbio went outside the
walls of the city, they risked being eaten. ‘I'll talk to the wolf,’ Francis said. And when he
heard about their problem, the people in Gubbio looked at one another. ‘Francis,’ they
said, ‘we've heard that you talk with the birds, but this wolf is not a bird. It has been eating
people, and it's not safe for you to talk with our wolf. Please don't go outside the city walls.’
But Francis walked right out to talk with the wolf. And as soon as Francis stepped beyond
the city walls, the wolf appeared, snarling and baring its sharp teeth. ‘Wolf,’ Francis said,
‘you have done a great deal of evil in these parts. But if you will give up your wicked ways,
you can come into the town. The people of Gubbio will feed you, and we can all live
together in peace.’ The wolf stared at Francis, its teeth bared and its hackles raised. To the
people who were watching from the city walls, it looked as if the giant creature were just 
about to pounce. But suddenly, the wolf ran up to Francis, wagging its tail like a friendly
dog. And when Francis turned to go back into the town, the wild wolf trotted after him as if
he were a family pet. For the rest of his life, the big wolf went door to door in Gubbio to beg
for scraps, and all the people of Gubbio fed it. Eventually, other people began to join
Francis. And like Francis, they lived on whatever people gave them, but they never
accepted any money. In fact, Francis told his followers that if anyone gave them coins, they
should treat them like pebbles and drop them in the road. When a thief stole a robe from
one of Francis's brother friars, Francis told the brother to run after the thief and give him his
hood, too. Near the end of his life, Francis had a vision of an angel with six flaming wings.
Hidden inside them was Jesus, with wounds in His hands and feet and side. When the
vision ended, Francis was shocked to discover wounds in his own hands and feet and side.
Francis didn't tell anybody about this. Instead, for the rest of his life, he kept his hands
inside his tunic and wore shoes to hide his feet. The wounds never healed. But after
Francis died, everybody could see that his body bore the same marks that Jesus’s had.”
Allow this man's life and story to just fill your room or your space that you're in, that you're
present with.
I hope this story helps you get a sense of the personality of Francis and how he, just
studying him again, I often think this guy is drunk on God. He's so overtaken by God that it's
all that he is and does, and he's somewhat of a fool for Christ. He lives in such a different
sort of way. And so, we can just spend these moments with God and with Francis in his
story, just to see if there's any ways in which who he is and the choices he made could
bring a new shape to our lives and stories.

And so, the first part of Francis's life that I would love to touch on is from the beginning of
our story, when it talks about Francis on the way to war, in this beautiful set, this beautiful
coat of armour that was decorated with real gold. And Francis saw this poor man in rags,
begging on the side, and he was moved, noticing how little the poor man had and how
much he had. And he was changed at this moment. He got all this armour off and gave it to
the man. So, Francis had a defining moment in his life where everything changed. And so, I
give us a moment here to ponder, in our own stories and lives, where we might have
encountered someone or something, where things changed after that. A sensitivity to the
world opened up. The things that break God's heart started to break your heart, too. Just
take a moment to think about those moments in your life where you were very struck, and
things changed because of that.

You know, sometimes these encounters are very simple. One person, one word, one
experience. Sometimes it's very big and drastic. I know for me, I was very much changed in
my studies in university and seminary. Knowing how tender those spaces of growth and 
evolvement, of faith and life and being. And I found I grew this great desire to want to give
back to this stage of life and growth. The stage of the 20-30 age group. And then the stage
of seminary. And wanting to follow God and love people. And God continues to keep
speaking to me and encouraging me and guiding me in this path. And so too, it will be with
you, as it was with Francis. As we continue to listen, and wait on the Lord, and grow in what
things break God's heart, for then what you will then be sensitive to, to give to the world.
Listen to these words from St. Francis. A small poem once again, entitled ‘In All Things.’ “It
was easy to love God in all that was beautiful. The lessons of deeper knowledge, though,
instructed me to embrace God in all things.” And you really see this poem come to light
when he embraces the beggar, when he embraces the leper, and realises that in that
embrace, his joy is made complete. There's something more. This is such an invitation for
us that when things just aren't so beautiful, and everything isn't quite right, that there are
deeper lessons of knowledge that can be communicated and expressed in these moments
of poverty. After this moment that Francis has with this beggar and he gives away his
things, he moves into this stage of listening to God in a new way. And we see that God
speaks to Francis and says, ‘Who can give you more?’ God asked in a dream, ‘The master
or the man?’ ‘The master,’ Francis said. ‘Then why are you following the man and not the
master?’

This is a wonderful invitation for us, as well, to keep in check. Are we following the master
or the man? Are we following what man desires, whether that's wealth or comforts or
success? Or the master, which calls us into simplifying and giving and letting go?
Let us take a moment now to see if there’s spaces in us where we are cluttered with
desiring. Whether it's more things, or desiring more relationships, more awards. Whatever
it may be, that we seem to want to follow man versus the master.
Listen to the words of this small poem from St. Francis, entitled, ‘Dear God.’ “Dear God,
please reveal to us Your sublime beauty, that is everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. So
that we will never again feel frightened. My divine love, my love, please let us touch Your
face.”

Oftentimes, our lives and our minds are so cluttered with wanting to control or feel safe.
And we notice, here, with Francis, that this sublime love of God is everywhere. And as we
release more of this clutter in our lives, we have more space and room to receive the love
of God.

Lastly, I'd love to speak with you about what Francis preached about most. And he
preached about the love of God. Whoever would listen, he would preach about the love of
God. And this is when we hear how he preaches to the birds of the air, and to the wolf, and 
to the animals, and to anyone who would listen. He was a man that would sing and would
walk freely and frolic. And you just sense, as he keeps giving away more and more of the
world and what the world offers, he's more and more filled with the love of God. And that is
what he preaches.

And I wonder, what do we preach? What do the words we talk about most about God? Do
we talk about His love, or His grace, His salvation? What do you preach about most? What
makes you sing or dance? What would you tell the birds and the wolf about?
In closing, I'm going to read us one of St. Francis's famous works, which is called ‘The
Canticle of Brother Sun.’ And you'll hear how he receives his life on earth as so
interconnected with all of creation and nature. So, enjoy this with me.
“Sing praises to You, my Lord, of great glory, honour, and blessing. Sing of all creation, for
no one is worthy of saying Your name. Sing praises to all Your creatures, and above all, to
Brother Sun, who gives us the day as he enlightens us. Brother Sun is beautiful and radiant.
And of you, my Lord, he bears a likeness. Sing praises to Sister Moon and the stars, in
heaven where He will have formed them, clear and precious and fair. Sing praises to
Brother Wind, and to the air and the clouds, and to fair and all kinds of weather, by which
you nurture your creatures. Sing praises to Sister Water, who is so useful and humble and
precious and pure. Sing praises to Brother Fire, who gives light to the night, and is beautiful
and merry and robust and strong. Sing praises to Sister Earth, our mother, who sustains
and rules over us, and produces herbs and flowers and fruits of many colours. Sing praises
to those who forgive for Your love, and endure sickness and trials of every kind. Blessed are
they who will bear it in peace, for by You, my Lord, they will be crowned. Sing praises to
Sister Death, from whom no one living may escape. Blessed are they who have found Your
love, for death shall bring them to the wider life. Praise and bless My Lord, and give Him
thanks, and serve Him with great humility.”

Thank you, friends, for joining me in the words of Francis and the Spirit of God. And may we
leave this time of prayer more ready to give away the things of this earth, more ready to love
and preach the goodness of God, and to be more present in our physical, beautiful
environments. So, brothers and sisters, go in peace.