Martin Luther taught in his Heidelberg Disputation of 1518, that there were two ways of doing theology. The first was the ‘theology of glory’. It meant using human reason to mix philosophy and theology into a clean system whereby God aided man in his natural striving for the good. It was a theology that made sense, and was optimistic about man’s intellectual and moral powers. The second way was the ‘theology of the cross’. On the contrary, against the scholastics the theology of the cross centred upon the fall of man, and human inability. How everything human became so easily corrupted by sin, and God alone had to work our salvation without us and that this could be trusted by sinners through faith alone. Man is scum and remains scum, but Christ was good on man’s behalf.
This type of theology is not glorious at all, it exalts the proud and points to the harsh reality of a crying baby in a manger surrounded by smelly animals, a Lord of Glory who was crucified. In this theology, Luther maintained that unless a man utterly despair of himself and his own efforts and virtues, he could not truly rest on the work of Jesus.
St. Francis is usually typified by his theology of glory, and ample English literature abounds to this end (a classic example might be G.K. Chesterton’s hagiography of St. Francis of Assisi). Certainly the Franciscans worked in many ways to undermine the effects of Original Sin and advance unChristian notions of salvation through one’s own holy inner disposition, but like St. Augustine, there are still lessons to be gleaned from the life of the spiritual father himself, regardless of how his descendents acted. In particular, one great moment in the biography of the saint comes to mind that is emblematic of the theology of the cross.
Francis, the young aristocrat stripped naked before his father and the local priest (might’ve been a bishop, I can’t recall), and gave his clothing and money back to his father. In that moment of extasy when Francis was literally poor, he was said to have declared “now I can truly pray OUR FATHER”. Having given away all his earthly protection, and abandoning himself to God’s providence, St. Francis exemplified what Luther considered to be true repentance. A rejection of every claim to worth we could possess, and in that moral poverty to trust in the riches of Christ alone for our salvation. Perhaps not the most fitting tale for Father’s Day (or the day after), but a great example from the holy history of the Church of Christ.