I read "The Lessons of Saint Francis" with my 20s/30s Sunday school class at, of all places, St. Francis UMC in Cary, NC, so unlike many of the other books I have read on here, I had a purpose other than just enjoyment in reading it.
Let me start off by saying this is not a bad book. I didn't hate it. But it did leave me personally a little flat. The author, John Michael Talbot, is an ex-hippie, ex-evangelical, Franciscan devotee (for lack of a better description). He follows the teachings of Francis of Assisi, the famous medieval ascetic friar and saint. He attempts to expound on the virtues of Francis' life and make them relevant to the lives of modern Christians. While he does do this at times, the value of this book is limited by the admiration, adoration, and adulation he heaps upon the saint. Francis was an admirable person, and he is someone from whom Christians should learn various traits. But the sun does not rise and set with him. Flowers didn't spring from his footsteps. His you-know-what didn't smell sweeter than most (and considering the bathing habits of medieval people, especially ascetic mystics, I'd wager it smelled worse). If you read any of the early biographies of Francisand can get past the sugary-sweet praise of the saint, you find that he was also a bit off his rocker at times. Talbot, like those early biographers, praises these eccentricities as if they were manna from heaven. But, I'm sorry, if someone is so crazy as to run out in the middle of the night and ring the church bell while shouting, "Look at the moon! Look at the moon!" and waking up all his neighbors, he doesn't deserve to be showered with praise; he deserves to be showered with the garden hose.
Anyway, my rant aside, Francis was an interesting human being, and one worthy of emulation in some respects. Talbot just fails to see the fact that Francis wasn't just a saint, he was a human being with many flaws.