The feast day of Saint Francis of Assisi officially takes place on the 4th of October. Here at BMPC, we observe it on the first Sunday of October. Traditionally, Presbyterians are not in the business of celebrating too many saints. However, BMPC has always had a fondness for Saint Francis, even going so far as to place him in the stained glass of our chapel windows. The image is familiar--a simple man, tonsured, dressed in plain brown robes, and surrounded by animals. This Sunday at 4:00 p.m., dogs, cats, lizards, and more will pass by his window on their way to the Blessing of the Animals on the front lawn of the Education Building. All animals are welcome, though our local groundhogs and garden snakes tend to avoid the crowds. Together, we will praise God and give thanks for the creatures of God’s good earth, but there is more to Saint Francis’ story and more to Sunday’s observations.
The story of Saint Francis includes a moment when he makes peace with a wolf and the town of Gubbio. Legend has it that Francis makes peace by first invoking the name of Jesus and then simply speaking to the wolf, saying, “The whole town is complaining about you, but I want to make peace between you and the people.” Francis promises the wolf that he will be given food so he will never again be hungry, and in turn, “Brother Wolf” promises never to harm another person or animal. The town of Gubbio and the wolf are fundamentally changed. The wolf no longer fears hunger, and the town no longer fears the wolf. They are both freed.
It is not lost on this children’s pastor that while the story's details change with each telling, the wolf is always called brother. Saint Francis addresses him like a brother in a holy order or a member of one’s family. The wolf is not dangerous or awful, and though he tends to eat the villager’s sheep, the wolf is still Francis’ brother.
The short story models the complex work of peacemaking: clear communication, honoring connections, recognizing the needs of both parties and seeking a shared solution. Unlike Francis, we cannot speak to our animal neighbors and ask the wasps to “move along” or the local squirrels to stop stealing carefully planted bulbs. Our human neighbors might balk if we shout the name of Jesus every time we approach. Even with our less-than-saintly limitations, I wonder if we should be a little more like Francis, willing to walk into the woods and seek peace.
On Sunday, we will hold two celebrations. Yes, there will be the blessing of the animals in the afternoon, but during morning worship, we will observe World Communion Sunday, a tradition that dates back to 1933 in Pittsburgh. This day, first nationally observed in 1940, is a powerful reminder of our connection to God’s people all around the world. Imagine, at the outbreak of World War II, the church paused and called nations at war “brother and sister,” remembering our connections as bread was broken and the cup was shared, an act of peace in the face of war.
Sharing communion and blessing animals are not radical acts, but they are hopeful ones. They are actions that model restoration in the face of so much destruction and sorrow. They are actions that reconnect us to one another and to God’s creation. They are actions that invite us to pause, call each other family, and rest in the promise of belonging and blessing that God extends to all.
