St. Francis Sunday, Year C
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church
October 5, 2025
the Rev. Jonathan Hanneman
There is no audio or video of this service.
“Your God is of your flesh, [God] lives in your nearest neighbor, in every [one].” – St. Francis of Assisi[1]
Born into a wealthy family in 1181 CE, Francis began his life as anything but a saint and is said to have thoroughly enjoyed the luxuries his social position allowed him. However, while still a young man, he resolved to take Jesus’ teachings regarding one’s resources in a desperately literal fashion. After a dispute (and lawsuit) regarding the use of his father’s silk business to help restore a chapel, Francis renounced his family fortune and set off to follow God in a life of poverty and service to others. Adopting the dress of the poorest peasants in his region, he wandered the Italian peninsula (and beyond) encouraging people to embrace God’s present reign by cultivating peace and actively displaying their care for one another. “Your God is of your flesh,” he once proclaimed, “[God] lives in your nearest neighbor, in every [one].”[2]
Francis and his earliest followers lived under what’s now known as “the Primitive Rule.” Although the document itself has been lost to time, early sources suggest it was based around three of Jesus’ statements: “Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor….then come, follow me;”[3] “take nothing for your journey: no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic;”[4] and “if any wish to come after me, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”[5] He abided by these standards until 1226, when he died of what we now suspect was malaria.
On Tuesday evening at our Diocesan clergy conference, parishioner and retired priest Dr. Henry Atkins spoke about how Francis might just be the most popular and admired saint in Church history. Unfortunately, he’s also probably the least imitated. We Christians generally think to honor him in two ways: (1) by setting out garden statues with him holding a bird and (2) by gathering the first Sunday of October to bless the animals, as we have today. Neither of those things are problematic—reminding ourselves to appreciate God’s creation and celebrating echoes of God’s love in the lives around us is never a bad thing. However, Francis’ legacy ought to be far greater than warm fuzzies and mass-produced outdoor decor.
Francis’ example to us is one of both generosity and humility. Maybe this day, when we remember and celebrate the saint who so loved nature, we can renew our efforts to emulate even more of Francis’ character. We can move beyond simply considering what Jesus has been telling us in our Gospel readings the past few months and actually begin to share our own resources, offering to others from the gifts God has so generously given us. We can reinvigorate our own formidable but necessary efforts to restore the sanctuary God has built for us—which isn’t just some isolated shrine or chapel where a few might gather for weekly worship, but this entire planet that sings God’s glory even as it strains under the damage we humans continue to inflict upon it. We can prove our love for God in the way Jesus taught us, extending kindness to one another and devoting ourselves to the good of the people and creatures God has assigned as our neighbors. We can heed Francis’ simple words anew and choose to shoulder the challenge found in their depths:
“Your God is of your flesh, [God] lives in your nearest neighbor, in every [one].”
[1] Eimerl, Sarel (1967). The World of Giotto: c. 1267–1337. et al. Time-Life Books. p. 15. ISBN 0-900658-15-0.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Mark 10:21 | All Bible quotations are from the NRSVue unless otherwise noted.
[4] Luke 9:3
[5] Matthew 16:24