Beyond the Birdbath: Francis and Other Animals

My sixth, and last, reflection on my retreat on St. Francis and St. Clare this fall in Assisi.  Why are there so many stories about Francis and animals - birds, wolves, lambs, ox and ass, etc.  Especially this time of year we’ll hear in many sermons or children’s pageants how Francis, in 1223, was the first person ever to create an outdoor Christmas crèche nativity scene, with live animals.  Are these just cute legends, good theology or something more?

A few years ago, wanting to know more about Francis, I took an online course about the saint from popular, hip Franciscan friar Richard Rohr, called "Beyond the Birdbath." 

For many people all they know about Francis is what they see in garden statuary, a kind (rock) man with his hands outstretched, with maybe a bird on two on his arms, or that same kindly figure slightly wet, perched in a birdbath. 

The origin of this so-called religious art is a popular legend of Francis, that when he preached, usually outside, in the streets and countryside (and rarely in church), even the birds paid attention.  There's a lovely description in the 14^th century legend collection, The Little Flowers of St. Francis:

And he entered into the field and began to preach to the birds that were on the ground; and soon those that were on the trees flew down to hear him, and all stood still while Saint Francis made an end of his sermon; and even then they departed not until he had given them his blessing.  And according as Friar Masseo and Friar James of Massa thereafter related, Saint Francis went among them, touching them with the hem of his garment, and not one stirred.  And the substance of the sermon Saint Francis preached was this,

“My little sisters the birds, much are ye beholden to God your Creator, and always and in every place ye ought to praise Him for that He hath given you a double and triple vesture; He hath given you freedom to go into every place, and also did preserve the seed of you in the ark of Noah, in order that your kind might not perish from the Earth.  Again, ye are beholden to Him for the element of air which He hath appointed for you; moreover, ye sow not, neither do ye reap, and God feedeth you and giveth you the rivers and the fountains for your drink; He giveth you the mountains and the valleys for your refuge, and the tall trees wherein to build your nests, and forasmuch as ye can neither spin nor sew God clotheth you, you and your children: wherefore your Creator loveth you much, since He hath dealt so bounteously with you; and therefore beware, little sisters mine, of the sin of ingratitude, but ever strive to praise God.”

While Saint Francis was uttering these words, all those birds began to open their beaks, and stretch their necks, and spread their wings, and reverently to bow their heads to the ground, showing by their gestures and songs that the holy father’s words gave them greatest joy: and Saint Francis was glad and rejoiced with them, and marveled much at so great a multitude of birds and at their manifold loveliness, and at their attention and familiarity; for which things he devoutly praised the Creator in them... The friars possessing nothing of their own in this world, after the manner of birds, committed their lives wholly to the providence of God.

What a great story!  And there are many other legends of Francis and animals.  That he befriended and tamed a wolf that was attacking the village of Gubbio and extracted a promise from the wolf that he would not attack and that the village would feed the wolf.  Another tale is that he exchanged his cloak for a lamb at a meat seller’s, saving it from slaughter and befriending it. 

And the story told this Christmas time of year.  That Francis created the first living outdoor nativity scene, with real oxen and ass, in the village Greccio, to literally incarnate the Incarnation, to give living flesh to a written story.  It was part of a new popular medieval preaching technique, not just to read the story in Latin, but to act it out.  Same idea as the also new medieval mystery plays, make the story real and show folks visually that a god could be human, simple, vulnerable, born of peasants, surrounded by animals in a barn. 

So Francis seems to have made deep personal connections with animals.  He also liked to use animals to “act out” Bible stories and values (rely on providence of God.)  Jesus did the same thing – he told animal stories all the time (Consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air…) He was born beside animals.  The Holy Spirit visit him in the form of a dove.  Since Francis is often called the person most like Jesus, the purest embodiment of his teachings, then surely we’re going to have some tales of Francis and animals. 

The animal stories, like Francis, teach great lessons: simplicity, kindness, gratitude, getting along. 

So why do we need to go “beyond” these animal stories?  As in my previous reflections on Francis, I am trying not to be too much of an academic or preacher here, to get or give the right answer.  I’m trying more to reflect and to wonder.  Here are some of my wonderings about Francis and the animals.

• Francis was indeed about simplicity and kindness.  But not about cuteness.  These stories are too cute and have gotten only cuter.  We’ve tenderized him as we have Jesus.  Another interpretation of the story about preaching to the birds is that the early artistic representations show mostly crows and ravens and raptors listening to Francis.  And that in the highly symbolic visual imagery of his time, those were “lower class birds,” not peacocks or finches or doves. Was this a way, almost like Aesop’s Fables, of saying he had special concern for the poor?  Which he did.

• These are sort of safe stories, just be nice to animals.  But they are a very small part of Francis’ ministry.  In previous columns I have told of Francis outrageously stripping naked in public and forever rejecting his family.  And of his dangerous and unprotected journey into the middle of a war to reach out to the Muslim leader of the enemy, and befriending him.  These are less warm and fuzzy stories, but I would say, more Francis, and more important.

• His deathbed anthem, the Canticle to the Sun, is a famous, profound statement of his basic theology, that we are all brothers and sisters (Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Sister Mother Earth.)  Its repeated phrase, “Be praised O God through all your creatures” is, in Italian, “Laduate Si,” the title of Pope Francis’ recent encyclical on climate change.   It inspired a great hymn, All Creatures of our God and King.  But the “creatures” in all these works are not animals.  No, creatures means the Sun, Moon, Wind, Fire – these are the basics of creation.  Not just cute bunnies, the peaceable kingdom.  Stars, climate – Francis’ creation theology is way beyond little lambs and sister birds.

• Ultimately (and I learned this from Rohr as well as my visit to Assisi) Francis is remarkable not because he loved animals but because he realized we are all animals, and we are all wind and flame and sun – everything is related, everything is brother and sister.  It’s not about loving the cute animals, it’s about seeing the deep connections between every living and even non-living thing in the universe.  We are all family.

• Which makes everything holy.  There are no distinctions between secular and sacred, between humans and other animals, even plants (he insisted each vegetable garden have a section for wild flowers to grow free), even climate and planet, all are one and all is holy.

• Just as Jesus said you have to become like a child to get what he’s talking about, so there is something childlike about Francis, open, innocent, playful.  We tend to highlight that side of him, gentle and mild.  But his life was about so much more than that, radical relationships and radical simplicity, brave travel, extreme self-sacrifice – not always the most childlike characteristics.  Not (just) cute animals and birdbaths, but an a-cute insistence that God loves every single thing. 

OK, that does sound preachy, but I can’t help it.  To live like him and Clare is to go way, way beyond the birdbath.  They continue to bless and challenge us, to change and inspire millions.

In the words Francis, and Franciscans, always use to greet each other, “Peace and all good.”

Copyright © 2018 Deborah Streeter