Author: Derek Michael Larson

Some of you may know I belong to a Franciscan religious order called the Third Order, Society of St. Francis. While our order has traditional friars and nuns who make vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the Third Order is for folks like me with families and jobs. We still live by a rule of life and take life vows, but they are adapted to our context. After 4 or 5 years of formation, I made my life vows as a Franciscan on July 31, 2016.

Recently a friend of mine was making his life vows in the order and asked me to share some reflections on what it means to be a Franciscan. Here is what I shared:

The Life of a Franciscan

The life of a Franciscan is a life of poverty. I will go so far as to say there are no rich Franciscans, unless by rich we mean the great riches gained in giving up everything.

When I say a life of poverty I mean at least three things:

First, I mean the material poverty that causes us to depend upon God and others for our survival and wellbeing. The poverty that for some of us is imposed by the injustice of society and for others is chosen in the renouncing of all the “things” that compete for our attention. The poverty that forsakes the extravagance of society for the extravagance of God’s creation. Lest we think vows of poverty are solely for first order brothers and sisters, the life of a tertiary is not an exception to poverty but a life of contextual poverty. We adopt an attitude of simplicity which meets the need of our own context, but nothing more.

Second, by life of poverty I mean the poverty we encounter in the communities which we are called to serve. Communities which feel the weight of the world’s social sins: racism, white supremacy, sexism, homophobia, classism, greed, and power. We have always on our minds the world’s increasing wealth inequality, the limits to who can afford healthcare, and the walls which separate refugees from shelter. As Francis embraced the most rejected and forgotten of his society, we dedicate our lives not simply to the work of charity, but to the bonds of relationship and compassion with those forced to the margins, remembering that just as we do for the least of these, we do for Jesus (Mt 25:40).

Finally, by life of poverty I mean the spiritual poverty to which Jesus ascribes blessing in Matthew 5. The poverty that calls us to have the same mind as Christ, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself taking the form of a servant” (Phil 2:6-7). As Jesus prayed in the garden, “not my will but your will be done” (Lk 22:42), we seek to let go of our desires for worldly power, affection, and security to foster a spirit of continual praise of the Father and Provider of all.

And yet hidden in each of these things there is a surprise gift.

The first poverty teaches us humility and gives us freedom from the prison of materialism and capitalistic competition. Without a stack of things to defend, Franciscans may be open to experiencing the beauty and gratitude of a world that all belongs to God and has been graciously and hospitably shared with creation. The things we hold become sacred and priceless because their worth comes not from market value but from Divine generosity.

The second poverty teaches us love and gives us authentic friendships and intimacy, for the basis of our relationships comes not from the exchange of material goods but the exchange of mutual affection. Instead of segregation between groups of rich and poor, black and white, American and foreigner, documented and undocumented, we perceive all people as our siblings and fellow children of God.

The third poverty teaches us the meaning of joy by walking us into the very presence of God. It invites us to become participants in the unity of Divine Trinitarian love where we find our deepest and truest self as belonging to God.

Yes, the life of a Franciscan is a life of great wealth. I will go so far as to say there are no poor Franciscans, unless by poor we mean the great riches gained in giving up everything.

Find our more about the Third Order, Society of St. Francis at www.tssf.org.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.

What does it mean to want for nothing?

What does it mean to want for nothing in an age of growing economic disparity. Half of Americans own just 2% of the nations wealth and the top 10% own 70% of the nations wealth?

For the whole text click here!

I was invited by my sponsoring parish, St. George’s Episcopal Church in Griffin, GA, (the church that walked with me through discernment for the priesthood) to officiate and preach for their digital worship this weekend. It was such a joy to participate! You can find the whole service below and you can find the sermon text and video here. Worship with us!

Una canción para el Jueves Santo de la capilla del jardín trasero. Bendiciones!
A song for Maundy Thursday from the backyard chapel. Blessings!

We are blessed to have a little bit of woodland in our backyard and so I helped Bear create an outdoor chapel today for Holy Week. Such a peaceful little place.

Blessed Passion Sunday! Take some time to hear the whole story of Christ’s passion this Holy Week.

These videos were created with the help of friends from the Seminary of the Southwest. #myssw

A short homily for a time of pandemic on the Fifth Sunday of Lent. #myssw #TheEpiscopalChurch #SantaFeEpiscopalChurch

Today’s Lectionary Readings:
Ezekiel 37:1-14
Psalm 130
Romans 8:6-11
John 11:1-45

https://www.lectionarypage.net/YearA_R…/Lent/ALent5_RCL.html

What a week!

As the coronavirus pandemic continues to escalate, many of us are facing the very real anxieties of all that comes with it. We fear for our health and the health of those we know. We worry about our financial stability and how we will put food on the table. We mourn the loss of graduation ceremonies and wedding postponements.

Like Israel in exile we cry out as in our reading from Ezekiel this morning, “Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are completely isolated.”

And like the desperate plea in our Psalm we say, “Out of the depths have I called to you, O Lord; hear my voice!”

And like Mary and Martha weeping over the illness and death of their brother, we cry, “Lord if you had been here this wouldn’t have happened…”

And the question on everybody’s mind is will this all be resolved in time for Easter (https://www.cnn.com/…/fauci-trump-easter-coronav…/index.html).

And yet here on the Fifth Sunday of Lent our lectionary readings are all about resurrection! In Ezekiel we see God breath the Spirit into a valley of dry bones that come back to life!

In Romans Paul declares, “he who raised Christ from the dead will give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwells in you.”

In the Gospel of John Jesus cries out to to the dead man in a tomb, “Lazarus, come out!”

And so while we worry about whether our Lenten fast will spill over into Easter, here we are celebrating Easter in the time of Lent!

It’s be such a pleasant surprise that even in the midst of fear and suffering, I have encountered so many beautiful life-giving moments. I see families playing games and watching movies together. I see overworked adults taking naps.

I see people singing hymns from their balconies (https://www.facebook.com/christine.brunson2/videos/10157721358970067/UzpfSTUwODQzNTQ2MjIxOjEwMTU2NTgzMjc2NzcxMjIy/),

and cheering for doctors and nurses from their windows (https://www.wfsb.com/…/video_924f6df5-ddd8-555c-a800-eeaa98…).

Sometimes there isn’t such a clear line between death and life. Sometimes there isn’t such a clear line between despair and hope. Between sadness and joy. Between darkness and light.

Sometimes the seasons of Lent and Easter fade into one another and we find ourselves in the time of a Paschal Lent—a Lenten Easter.

Friends, we are living in that time. Death and Life are all around us. We hold in one hand the despair of illness and death and in the other the hope of resurrection. We hold in one hand our weeping, and in the other our hope and joy.

And the good news of both Lent and Easter is that Jesus comes alongside us in both. The good news of today’s gospel reading is not just that Lazarus was raised but that Jesus wept. And as Christ’s followers in the way, Jesus calls us to do the same. We are to be a Lenten people. We are to be an Easter people.

So call your neighbor and weep with them.
Facetime your mom and play charades.

Pray for those on the front lines of this illness.
Go outside and smell the flowers.

Call your senator and ask for financial relief for the most vulnerable.
Eat some pizza and watch a movie with your kids.

And in your suffering, know that Jesus weeps with you.
And in your healing know it is Christ who makes you well. Amen.

Given on the First Sunday of Lent at Santa Fe Episcopal Church in San Antonio, TX. The sermon is mostly in English, with Spanish sprinkled through as I continue to learn.

I.

En el nombre del Padre, el Hijo, y el Espíritu Santo. Amen.

Hoy es el primer domingo de la Cuaresma. Y en la Cuaresma es muy común de hacer una disciplina espiritual o de ayunar. El trabajo de la Cuaresma es interno. En la Cuaresma miramos en los corazones y en nuestras comunidades. Muchas veces olvidamos quienes somos en Dios y perseguimos las cosas del mundo.

Entonces aquí estamos, en el principio de la Cuaresma, hablamos sobre la tentación. Temptations.  ¿Conocemos bien la tentación, no? ¿A quién les gustan las galletas girl scout? ¿Cuantos comen? ¿Una, dos, una caja entera?

Or who has ever stayed in bed when you know you could be out washing the car or doing other chores? Who has ever skipped church when you felt like you should be there? Who here has ever worked an extra hour at your job instead of going home to your family? Who here has ever pretended to not see the person standing at the street corner and asking for money? We know what temptation is. We know the feeling it leaves in our gut when what we want to do and what we know we ought to do don’t line up.

And so here at the beginning of Lent I have one question. What does the devil look like?

¿Cómo se ve el diablo?

Click here to continue reading or to hear the audio.

This semester I started my field education at Santa Fe Episcopal Church, a small, bilingual congregation in south San Antonio. I love this community and am learning so much!

Here is a glimpse of what Santa Fe is like: