
Sculpture by Paul Fryer
I think it is easy for us to miss the scandal of 1 Corinthians 2:2.

Sculpture by Paul Fryer
I think it is easy for us to miss the scandal of 1 Corinthians 2:2.
He was born a child of wealth and privilege. His father a wealthy clothing merchant, he never lacked or suffered. One day, the man we would later call St. Francis was riding along on horseback when he met a leper. In those days, leprosy was the most dreaded of diseases. Not only was it a death sentence, but it was a horrible way to die – lesions, puss and the putrid smell that followed you made you a social outcast.
Under what would later be called the guidance of the Holy Spirit, Francis got off his horse, overcame his revulsion and disgust and gave the leper a full-on body hug. Then, he gave the leper all his money, hopped back on his horse and rode away.
Later, when Francis went to Rome, he was at St. Peter’s tomb and saw the beggars there. In a fit of piety, he swapped clothes with a beggar and sat there with the other beggars, begging for his food.
Thus started the career of the holy man who would go on to found an order of other holy men, who beg their own way, who devote themselves to poverty, who live among the poorest of the poor. It is obvious from reading the story that the encounter with the leper was trans-formative for Francis.
It is clear what was in it for Francis. He experienced the leper and, as a result, experienced personal transformation. But how did it turn out for the leper? He got some money (which he did not ask for). He got a hug (which he did not ask for – and random people coming up and hugging you is just weird). He is forever recorded in history, but not by his name. He is only notable for his disease, for how he was “wrong”, for how he is the “other”.
He was, as this story is told, reduced to a prop in the transformation of Francis. And as a reward for getting to play a part in the transformation of Francis, he got competition, for now Francis was begging along side him.
My problem with this story is that we naturally tend to identify with Francis. I mean, even if we would not touch a leper ourselves, we want to think we are the sort of person who would touch a leper.
This story has been used as an example of how the act of mission can change hearts, and we have been listening. Just the other day, I received a fund-raising letter from a teenager who was going off to somewhere in South America on a mission trip, and the key “selling point” was how much this was going to change the life of the teenagers that go on this trip.
When I read that, I thought back to the Francis story, and all I could think of was: OK, I see what is in it for the people going on the trip, but, well, what’s in it for the leper?
Notes:
Lest you doubt my paraphrase of the Francis tale, you can see the original version here, from the Catholic Encyclopedia. I have pasted the applicable passage below.
One day, while crossing the Umbrian plain on horseback, Francis unexpectedly drew near a poor leper. The sudden appearance of this repulsive object filled him with disgust and he instinctively retreated, but presently controlling his natural aversion he dismounted, embraced the unfortunate man, and gave him all the money he had. About the same time Francis made a pilgrimage to Rome. Pained at the miserly offerings he saw at the tomb of St. Peter, he emptied his purse thereon. Then, as if to put his fastidious nature to the test, he exchanged clothes with a tattered mendicant and stood for the rest of the day fasting among the horde of beggars at the door of the basilica.
The phrase “What’s in it for the leper” I first heard from my friend Brian Ammons , who is a member of an order based on the Rule of St. Francis and Clare. It gave succinctness and order to my own often crazed and wide ranging thoughts about the danger of identifying with only one person in a story. If you like the idea – credit him. If you think the idea problematic, then blame me.
The good folks at the Outlaw Preachers (re)Union invited me to speak there next week.
If you are near Nashville, I hope you will go here and register to attend. The lineup is incredible, and so is the guest list.
Hope to see you there!
If you want to know more about inviting me to speak at your event, you can find out more information about that here.
I get asked a lot if I am an Evangelical. Or, because I talk about faith and Jesus and I live in the South, it is assumed I am an Evangelical.
I have a general post-modern dislike for labels. But, I understand why they are useful for some people. And, I know that by daring to write this down, I am risking alienating some people, because they thought I was one of them, and now it will be clear that I am not, and thus, in their head, we cannot be friends or they cannot support my work. I am sure some of them are going to be praying for my salvation before this post is over.
As clear as I know how to be: I am not an Evangelical. I do not identify as Evangelical.
I am a Christian. I attempt to follow the Jesus path, albeit, often from afar. But, I cannot claim to be Evangelical. In fact, I am quite certain I am not.
Why am I so certain?
The first step in labeling is to define the label. The term Evangelical as a proper noun is claimed by the National Association of Evangelicals in their very title. According to their website, “We are dedicated to unifying, serving and representing the evangelical community in the United States.” If you claim to be Evangelical and live in the US, they represent you.
And, bless their heart, they have a statement of faith on their website. Of course they do.
I plan to write a series of posts, taking the most problematic statements in this Statement of Faith to task, from my perspective.
But they made this very simple. I cannot sign off on this Statement as representative of my beliefs. Ergo, I am not Evangelical.
Are you?
Thankful to the Two Friars and a Fool for letting me put up a guest post.
More impromptu video from Travis, caught at the Wild Goose Festival.
I often get asked about my typical day.
Yesterday, I
It is not a normal day – but most of my days end up being just this hectic and varied and emotionally all over the place.