Wendy Murray

Today is the “feast day” of St. Francis of Assisi, meaning he died on this day in 1226.  Such days “serve as a reminder to us Protestants that [a] litany of spiritual champions…carried the torch of gospel witness at Christianity’s beginnings and through the centuries,” as I shared elsewhere. Celebrating St. Francis on his feast day is especially important because his model of leadership offers meaningful insight today for Christians of all traditions, and especially for Evangelicals.

Francis was born in 1182 in the small Italian hillside town of Assisi, Italy, where he lived in the middle-class neighborhood. The son of a wealthy linen merchant, he was exceedingly popular among Assisi’s younger crowd; he was well known as a partier and philanderer, often turning the heads of his neighbors.

He also aspired to knighthood and was active in two wars. The first was a civil war between Assisi’s nobility and the merchant class when Francis was sixteen. The other, when he was twenty, was a melee with the town’s rival city, Perugia. The Assisiani were slaughtered during this battle, but Francis survived and was taken a prisoner of war. He languished for a year in a dungeon prison to the point of near death until his father ransomed his release. He spent another year recovering. This changed him.

His sufferings awakened religious pining. As he reposed in prayer in the ruins of a dilapidated church south of Assisi, he heard the voice of God say to him, “Rebuild my church.” That meant that, hereafter, he went to work rebuilding ruined churches in the valley below Assisi.

Through the course of his protracted conversion, Francis wrestled with what was the literal application of the teaching of Jesus about what it meant to follow him in real life, not as an abstract principle. Jesus said that all who wanted to come after him must sell their possessions and give to the poor, then come follow him (Mt 19:21). Francis determined to make this mandate the signature feature of his religious life.

At the time, the Church, in its opulence and corruption, had lost the memory of who Jesus was. And, since everyday people generally did not read—nor even have access to the New Testament—the message and life of the authentic Jesus had to be realized some other way for others to understand him.

Francis’ model for what it meant to be a Franciscan—appropriating Jesus’ teaching literally—was his way of giving Jesus back to the everyday people. (It is a theme that would be picked up a few hundred years later, by a reformer named Martin Luther.) And for that, we owe Francis a debt of gratitude. Beyond that, the model for his Order (both male and female), as well as for leaders generally, stands out as being as relevant today as it was 800 years ago.

First, Francis’ understanding and embodiment of the implications of the simple gospel, going beyond abstractions, served to bring a concrete antidote and way of new life to the confused and bloated religious situation of his day.

Second, he clearly understood the temptation of power for those in leadership (he named his order Friars Minor—“the lesser brothers”), forbidding them to seek positions of rank in the church hierarchy. He imposed on his fraternity ego-renouncing regimens of accountability to ensure that the “cult of personality” did not override the humility of gospel service.

Third, he limited his use of words in preaching the gospel. Instead, he chose to live in a way that itself revealed the gospel. He would not be seduced by celebrity. He commanded a following not because “he had a way with words,” but because of his way of life. Francis believed, as he once articulated, “A man has as much knowledge as he executes.”

Francis’ validation from the then-politicized and corrupt church changed the Christian landscape of his time. His example did not suggest these were vehicles by which to earn salvation, but the avenues through which God’s grace could reach into the core of the human situation, claim dominion and transform. It is an upside-down model, but we serve an upside-down Kingdom.

Wendy Murray is associate director of accreditation and communications. Her biography of St. Francis, A Mended and Broken Heart, was published by Basic Books. Her upcoming book, The Franciscan Way, will be out next year.