By DEB PIROCH
Part 1
“[Let us imagine] When we come to St. Mary of the Angels drenched with rain, numb with cold, covered with mud and tormented with hunger, and when we knock at the gate the porter . . . enraged, cries, ‘These are importunate rascals, I will treat them as they deserve,’ and rushing out with a knotted stick: seizes us by our cowls, throws us down, rolls us in the snow and beats us with every knot of that stick: If we, thinking of the sufferings of Our Blessed Lord, endure all these things gladly and patiently, bearing them for love of Him, O Brother Leo,…here is Perfect Joy” — Excerpt, St. Francis of Assisi.
There are few saints who resonate with the general population the world over but, called upon to name a saint, many would tentatively state, “St. Francis?” Indeed, St. Francis. The Franciscans, in their various branches, number the largest religious order in the world. And it yet it began with the graces bestowed upon a young man — named John, not Francis — during the twelfth century.
St. Francis (circa 1181-1226) was born to a cloth merchant, who gave him the nickname of “Francesco,” meaning “the little Frenchman.” His mother was from Provencal and his father did business in France, so he invented the name — for Francis was not a given name at this time. Our Francis was the first. He was indeed born in Assisi, but he was not its first saint; martyrs Felicianus, Vittorinus, and Rufinus predated him by centuries.
He came from a well-to-do family, and grew up speaking French and Italian. Often helping in his father’s shop, one day the twelve-year-old sent a beggar who came into the store on his way. He was so ashamed, he chased after the poor man, promising himself he would never again turn down someone sent to him by God.
As he grew, biographers remark that after a spell of illness he wished to join the military and fight. What young man does not dream of adventure? But after setting out, he seemed to experience a vision. He heard a voice say, “Francis, whom is it better to serve, the lord or the servant?” He asked in return, “Lord, what dost thou wish me to do?” He understood he was to return home; thus began his turn in the road from the material to the spiritual life. He still spent money, but now he was obsessed with giving large gifts to churches and beggars.
So happy, he was asked if he was in love. He answered, “Yes, I am thinking of taking a bride more noble and beautiful and richer than any you have ever seen.” He had discovered his religious calling, and meant the Church for his bride, naturally.
It was not a priestly calling but that of a friar. He began to be consumed with a vision of Christ crucified that would bring him to weeping. He went to Rome to pray before the tombs of the apostles to ask God’s hand in his future but before he returned, exchanged clothes with a beggar in front of St. Peter’s, and begged there the rest of the day. In later years he would say to his brothers, “Never fear to beg, because this was the poverty that Jesus knew!”
His views radically embraced more and more the suffering Christ. Not unlike Mother Teresa of Calcutta, he wished to be one of the poor. In doing so, he was imitating his Lord, Christ Jesus. On his return from Rome, asked whom his parents should invite for his dinner celebration, he answered, “The poor.”
Yet St. Francis was human, he had fears as we all do. He had a horrific dread of lepers — there being no cure for the horrible disease at that time — but one day he suddenly came upon a leper and embraced him. From then on, his fears departed. The first miracle biographers actually mention is that he kissed a leper on the face who was miraculously healed on the spot.
As a transition occurred, he dressed like the poor, begged like the poor, suffered like the poor. Most important, he began spending hours in a decrepit chapel in front of the St. Damiano Cross, praying. Perhaps you know this cross? The author of this work of art is unknown, but it dates to approximately the 1100s. Praying in front of our Lord, he heard a voice say, “Francis, repair my church, which thou seest in ruin.”
Thinking nothing of it, he took some of his father’s goods and a horse, sold them, and donated the proceeds to the church. His father became quite angry and a division began between the two.
Some say they fought, that the father took his son to ecclesiastical court to try and shake sense into him and get the goods returned. He threatened to remove his inheritance. Francis simply said he relinquished all his wealth. He then stripped naked, and left his father his rags on the ground. His hurt father took them and left . . . for he did love his son.
Francis was quickly covered by nearby religious and thus began his life of penury in full earnest. He would keep no possessions. He begged for sustenance, the lepers, and St. Damiano’s repairs. Many cursed or laughed at him. But eventually hearts began to move in his way, conceivable only with God’s grace. He began converting souls, who joined him.
And finally, a key turning point; he heard this passage from the Gospel of St. Matthew: “Go forth, preach, saying: The Kingdom of God is at hand…possess not gold nor silver nor money in your purses….And when you come into a house, salute it, saying ‘Peace be to this house’.” With the words of Christ’s Gospel echoing in his ears, he took them deeply to heart. When he had assembled twelve in his tiny order, he journeyed to Pope Innocent III in Rome to ask his blessing.
The Pope would not see him! That is, until he dreamt overnight. He saw a beggar — St. Francis — as the only shoulder still holding up the Lateran (the site of the Roman church and papal residence at that time). Innocent III granted them all a blessing, issuing them a tonsure, and told them to return when there were more.
“The greatest care ought to be taken of the soul, for man has not many, but only one. If God had given us two souls, as He has given us two eyes, or two feet, then should one be lost or taken away, we might guard and save the other. But as we have received only one, very weak and languishing, assailed by three most powerful enemies, and exposed to the fiery darts of the world, the flesh, and the Devil, it is not lawful for it to repose securely for one single day, but it must always be striving and fighting. The Apostle [Paul] gives us to understand how continual this warfare must be, when he says: ‘Our wrestling is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers’” — St. Francis (part 2 next week.)
St. Francis of Assisi’s feast day is October 4.
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