St. Francis and the First Manger Scene

By Dorothy Prescott

It is not generally known that St. Francis of Assisi was responsible for that popular feature of the Christmas season--the manger scene. It came about because of his longing to make the great truths of the Spirit real to the ordinary person.

Francis loved people, from the great Pope in his palace--and he knew two of them--to the beggars in the streets, the robbers in the mountains, and especially outcasts like the lepers.

Francis loved all creatures too. He loved the birds; most people know the story of how he preached to them as they perched near him, flying away when he dismissed them. He loved the beasts too, even the fierce wolf who terrified the people of Gubbio, Italy, and whom he is said to have tamed. He once begged the Emperor to pass a law that all birds and beasts be given extra food at Christmas, so that they too might have "joy in the Lord."

As a young man he loved material things as well, especially the beautiful clothes, costly velvets and satins from the shop of his wealthy father, Pietro Bernardone. People tended to wear their wealth on their backs in those days, and Bernardone was happy to see his son, the best-dressed young man in town, leading all the other young people in music and dancing and general carousing--it was all good for business, which he hoped Francis would join him in one day.

But Francis began to find that things as such did not satisfy him. He felt that there must be something more real in the world, and he tried all sorts of ways to find it. He even went to war, but it only brought him imprisonment, and he came home very weak after a serious illness.

But at last he learned that real satisfaction was to be found in loving God and doing what God wanted him to do. He was such an example of this new way of living and demonstrated it so well that people began to follow him. He longed to make God's truths understandable to them, and one Christmas he had the idea of showing people just what the birth of Jesus must have actually been like, in all its poverty and discomfort.

He found exactly the right place for it--a great pile of rocks on a bleak mountain near the village of Greccio. In a cleft of the mountainside there was a cave, and there he decided to rebuild the Nativity scene. He brought up an ox and an ass, and had the figure of Baby Jesus carved and laid in a manger between them. News of what he was doing spread all over the countryside.

Towards the cave on the desolate mountain a steady stream of men, women, and children came by night carrying torches and candles to light their way. At last they were all massed around the entrance to the cave, looking in.

"It seemed like midday," wrote someone who was there, "during that midnight filled with gladness for man and beast, and the crowds drawing near, so happy to be present for the renewal of the eternal mystery." Francis himself sang the Gospel story in a voice which was "strong, sweet and clear," says the observer. "Then he preached to the people, most lovingly, about the birth of the poor King in little Bethlehem."

So when we see a manger scene at Christmas time, we can remember St. Francis, the "poor little man," as he used to call himself, who was able to make great truths as real to other people as they were to him.