St. Francis of Assisi

St. Francis of Assisi (1181-1226)

There’s a large statue of St. Francis of Assisi with his arms outstretched facing the Basilica of St. John Lateran in Rome. If you stand behind the statue, facing the basilica, it looks like the saint is holding up the church in his arms. That’s what St. Francis did: he raised up a church that was falling down

We need to see saints in the light of their times, because they answer the needs of their day. Chesterton called saints “God’s antidotes to the poison of their world”.

What was poisoning Francis’ world? In the Italy where Francis lived the economy was booming; he belonged to Italy’s new rich merchant class. As a young man he  had everything money could buy. But then, as now, wealth can corrupt your values.

Italy’s cities were fiercely competing with one another, and they were often at war. Outside Italy, the Turks would soon be dreaming of ruling Europe. People were grabbing for power everywhere. It was the time of the crusades. People wanted to settle things through the power of arms.

At the same time, the church was in bad shape and there was a yearning for reform. Saints like Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) and popes like Gregory VII (1015-1085)  and Innocent III (1160-1216) were part of a growing movement looking for change.

When Francis of Assisi came with twelve disciples to see the pope in Rome in the summer of 1220 about reforming the church, he came at the right time. They say that the pope had a dream the night before that the Lateran Basilica, the mother church of Christendom, was falling down and a young man clothed like the 28 year old Francis came to hold its walls up.

The pope asked Francis what would he do and Francis replied with three verses of scripture. The first from the gospel of Matthew: Jesus says to the young man ‘If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’(19,21)  The second from Luke’s gospel : Jesus sends his disciples out saying “Take nothing for your journey, no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.”( 9,3) The third from Matthew; Jesus says, “If anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross.” (16,24)

Now, the pope was a good judge of people and he sensed in Francis the grace of God, so he gave him his blessing and told him to live those gospel teachings and tell them to others. That’s what Francis and his companions did, and their movement  spread like fire throughout Europe.

It’s interesting to see how Francis made those verses from scripture his own. First, he embraced poverty, not just by renouncing the rich lifestyle that he was born into, but by renouncing any way that could lead him to power. For example, he never became a priest or a bishop or a pope, because these were positions of power that people especially fought for and sometimes paid for in his day.

He did not ask to take over a monastery or a religious order that could become his base of power. Saints like St. Bernard and St Norbert before him had adopted monasticism as a way to bring about church reform, but Francis wanted a life where you went with nothing, “no staff, nor bag, nor bread, nor money—not even an extra tunic.” He distanced himself and his movement from the religious institutions of his day, because he feared they would become places of power.

He took the gospel teachings literally and lived them literally. His renunciation of power became an antidote to the poisonous attraction to power that was crippling his world and his church. He imitated the “Son of Man” who was a poor man himself and  said to his followers the “foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.”

Like the Son of Man, who suffered and died on a cross and rose again, Francis experienced the mystery of the cross and was blessed by it. Remembering him, we also might wonder– and maybe praying: Will God send us a saint to deal with the poison of our time?

“Time present and time past/Are both perhaps present in time future.”      

T. S. Eliot, “Burnt Norton”

The Humanity of God

You can’t say it more beautifully than the way St. Bernard says it in this sermon.

“The kindness and love of God our savior have appeared.  Thanks be to God, through whom we receive such abundant kindness in this pilgrimage, this exile, this distress.

“ Before his humanity appeared, God’s kindness lay concealed. Of course it was already in existence, because the mercy of the Lord is eternal, but how could we know it was so great? It was promised but not yet experienced: hence many did not believe in it. At various times and in various different ways, God spoke through the prophets, saying I know the plans I have in mind for you: plans for peace, not disaster.

” What reply did we make, we who felt the affliction, and knew nothing of peace? ‘How long will you keep saying “Peace, peace” when there is no peace?’ And so the angels of peace weep bitterly saying Lord, who has believed our report?

“But now at last let us believe our own eyes, because all God’s promises are to be trusted. So that it cannot escape the notice of even troubled eyes, He has set up his tabernacle in the sun. Behold, peace is no longer promised, but conferred; no longer delayed, but given; no longer predicted, but bestowed.

“Behold, God has sent down to earth a bag bulging with his mercy, a bag that, at the passion, is torn open so that our ransom pours out of it onto us. A small bag, perhaps, but a full one: for it was a small child that was given to us, but in him dwells all the fulness of the Godhead.

“After the fulness of time had come, there came too the fulness of the Godhead. He came in the flesh, so that at least he might make himself manifest to our earthly minds, so that when this humanity of his appeared, his kindness might also be acknowledged. Where the humanity of God appears, his kindness can no longer be hidden. In what way, indeed, could he have better commended his kindness than by assuming my flesh? My flesh, that is, not Adam’s, as it was before the fall.

“What greater proof could he have given of his mercy than by taking upon himself that very thing which needed mercy? Where is there such perfect loving-kindness as in the fact that for our sake the Word of God became perishable like the grass? Lord, what is man, that you make much of him or pay him any heed?

“Let us infer from this how much God cares for us. Let us know from this what God thinks of us, what he feels about us. Do not ask about your own sufferings; but about what God suffered. Learn from what he was made for you, how much he makes of you, so that his kindness may show itself to you from his humanity.

“The lesser he has made himself in his humanity, the greater has he shown himself in kindness. The more he humbles himself on my account, the more powerfully he engages my love. The kindness and humanity of God our Saviour appeared says St Paul. The humanity of God shows the greatness of his kindness, and he who added humanity to the name of God gave great proof of this kindness.”

 

All Saints

Years ago I wrote a book on the lives of the saints honored in our church calendar. Saints like Mary, the Mother of Jesus, the apostles, the martyrs, founders of great religious orders, men and women recognized for their great holiness.

It was a hard book to write and I’ve never felt satisfied with it. My dissatisfaction isn’t just  from not capturing their lives as well as I would have liked. I think it’s because we can’t capture what the saints experience at all.

A saint is someone who enjoys a completed life, a life we haven’t seen yet, a life we hope for. “We feebly struggle while they in glory shine.” We can never capture the final steps of their story.

The letter of St. John we read today on the Feast of All Saints tells us that. We haven’t seen yet what God intends us to be. We haven’t completed our lives yet; we complete our lives when we join the company of the saints.

“See what love the Father has bestowed on us

that we may be called the children of God.

Yet so we are…

Beloved, we are God’s children now;

what we shall be has not yet been revealed.”

The saints we honor in our calendar led extraordinary lives; they were shining examples of faith, hope and love and changed the world they lived in.  What’s interesting about today’s feast of All Saints is its promise that they’re not the only ones in heaven. There are unnumbered saints in God’s company, saints who lived obscurely, without any sign of the extraordinary.

People like us.

I like St. Bernard’s advice about saint-watching in today’s Office of Readings:

“We must rise again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for our coming to intercede for us. We should not only want to be with the saints, we should also hope to possess their happiness. While we desire to be in their company, we must also earnestly seek to share in their glory. Do not imagine that there is anything harmful in such an ambition as this; there is no danger in setting our hearts on such glory.

When we commemorate the saints we are inflamed with another yearning: that Christ our life may also appear to us as he appeared to them and that we may one day share in his glory.”

The World Waits Mary’s Reply

Here’s the wonderful  reading from St. Bernard in today’s Office of Readings, which you can get online here:

“You have heard, O Virgin, that you will conceive and bear a son; you have heard that it will not be by man but by the Holy Spirit. The angel awaits an answer; it is time for him to return to God who sent him. We too are waiting, O Lady, for your word of compassion; the sentence of condemnation weighs heavily upon us.

“The price of our salvation is offered to you. We shall be set free at once if you consent. In the eternal Word of God we all came to be, and behold, we die. In your brief response we are to be remade in order to be recalled to life.

“Tearful Adam with his sorrowing family begs this of you, O loving Virgin, in their exile from Paradise. Abraham begs it, David begs it. All the other holy patriarchs, your ancestors, ask it of you, as they dwell in the country of the shadow of death. This is what the whole earth waits for, prostrate at your feet. It is right in doing so, for on your word depends comfort for the wretched, ransom for the captive, freedom for the condemned, indeed, salvation for all the sons of Adam, the whole of your race.

“Answer quickly, O Virgin. Reply in haste to the angel, or rather through the angel to the Lord. Answer with a word, receive the Word of God. Speak your own word, conceive the divine Word. Breathe a passing word, embrace the eternal Word…

“And Mary says, ‘I am the handmaid of the Lord. Be it done to me according to your word.’”

Prose and Poetry

When you blend the prose of St. Thomas Aquinas, whose feast we celebrate today, with the poetry of St.Bernard, you get something like this:

“Why did the Son of God have to suffer for us? There was a great need, and it can be considered in a twofold way: in the first place, as a remedy for sin, and secondly, as an example of how to act.

It is a remedy, for, in the face of all the evils which we incur on account of our sins, we have found relief through the passion of Christ. Yet, it is no less an example, for the passion of Christ completely suffices to fashion our lives.”  ( Thomas Aquinas)

“Where can the weak find a place of firm security and peace, except in the wounds of the Saviour? Indeed, the more secure is my place there, the more he can do to help me. The world rages, the flesh is heavy, and the devil lays his snares, but I do not fall, for my feet are planted on firm rock. I may have sinned gravely. My conscience would be distressed, but it would not be in turmoil, for I would recall the wounds of the Lord: he was wounded for our iniquities…

They pierced his hands and feet and opened his side with a spear… But the piercing nail has become a key to unlock the door, that I may see the good will of the Lord. And what can I see as I look through the hole? Both the nail and the wound cry out that God was in Christ reconciling the world to himself. The sword pierced his soul and came close to his heart, so that he might be able to feel compassion for me in my weaknesses.

Through these sacred wounds we can see the secret of his heart, the great mystery of love, the sincerity of his mercy with which he visited us from on high. Where have your love, your mercy, your compassion shone out more luminously than in your wounds, sweet, gentle Lord of mercy? More mercy than this no one has than that he lay down his life for those who are doomed to death.”  (St. Bernard)

The Call to All

We weren’t called on the shore of the Sea of Galilee as Peter and Andrew were, but St. Bernard says in today’s reading Jesus calls us as well. He speaks of the three comings of Christ.

“In his first coming the Lord was seen on earth and lived among men, who saw him and hated him. At his last coming All flesh shall see the salvation of our God, and They shall look on him whom they have pierced. In the middle, the hidden coming, only the chosen see him, and they see him within themselves; and so their souls are saved. The first coming was in flesh and weakness, the middle coming is in spirit and power, and the final coming will be in glory and majesty.”

Jesus said, “ If anyone loves me, he will keep my words, and the Father will love him, and we shall come to him,” and so as surely as he dwelt with his apostles who followed him from the boat will he dwell in the hearts of those who welcome him

Yet, Bernard speaks to a Christian community baptized into the Christian faith. What of those who do not welcome Christ, perhaps because they do not know him or misunderstand him? What of those nominal Christians who have all but forgotten their call? Bernard doesn’t say, but wouldn’t the Father still come to them and dwell with them until he chooses to reveal his Son?

There is a universal call to intimacy with God.

The Rosary

St. Bernard, in a homily for today’s Feast of the Holy Rosary, says that God, who by nature is incomprehensible, inaccessible, invisible, unthinkable,  wished “to be understood, to be seen and thought of.” And so the Word became flesh of the virgin Mary.

The Rosary is a prayer inviting us into the mystery of Christ.through Mary, his mother, who gave him birth and treasured his memory in her heart.

“He lay in a manger and rested on a virgin’s breast, preached on a mountain, and spent the night in prayer. He hung on a cross, grew pale in death, and roamed free among the dead and ruled over those in hell. He rose again on the third day, and showed the apostles the wounds of the nails, the signs of victory; and finally in their presence he ascended to the sanctuary of heaven.

How can we not contemplate this story in truth, piety and holiness? Whatever of all this I consider, it is God I am considering; in all this he is my God. I have said it is wise to meditate on these truths, and I have thought it right to recall the abundant sweetness, given by the fruits of this priestly root; and Mary, drawing abundantly from heaven, has caused this sweetness to overflow for us.”

Waiting for Christmas

Every year we’re invited to enter the mystery of Christmas. Of course we can refuse to welcome this mystery of God.

That’s what Ahab, king of Israel, did, according to last Saturday’s first reading for Mass. He refused to engage with God. “Come, ask for a sign, Let me open the mysteries of life to you,” God said to him. But Ahab, the busy, proud. self-aborbed man,  said “No.” –as politely as he could– “I will not tempt the Lord.” In other words, “Don’t bother me.”

God would send a sign anyway.

This is the time to open our minds and hearts to the mysteries of God and if we do we’ll be blessed.

The other day a woman was telling me about her little girl, Isabel. She’s in the first grade in a little Catholic school down the street from us and they’re into the Christmas story these days..

“She can’t wait to go to school these days, ” her mother said. They’re putting together a creche for the Baby Jesus and they’re learning all about the angels, and the wise men who come to the stable on camels, and Mary and Joseph, and the shepherds and the wicked king who want to kill all the babies in Bethlehem. They’re offering little prayers that the whole world be blessed when he comes.

Isabel is enthralled by it all. “Mommy, did you know Jesus had to sleep on straw. That  straw we put in the crib would  hurt him when he slept on it.”

Isabel was asking what she was going to get for Christmas, and her mother told her that before we open our hand to get anything we have to open it to give something.

So Isabel is asking now for enough money to buy presents for everyone in the world. She’s going to have to see the Secretary of the Treasury of the United States for a bailout like that, her mother says.

Why do we lose that childlike wonder and ability to be engaged?  Why do we become like Ahab, not wanting to be bothered about this great sign?

Every once in awhile we’re spurred by something we hear. I heard it in Isabel. I heard it too in St. Bernard’s  beautiful  sermon  on Luke’s gospel of the annunciation, when the angel invites Mary of Nazareth to conceive the Child. Here’s a summary of it:

“You hear, Mary, that you will conceive and bear a Son; you hear it will not be by man but by the Holy Spirit. The angel waits for your answer; it’s time he returns to God who sent him. We wait for your answer too.

Salvation will be ours if you consent. In the eternal Word, we all came to be made. At your answer we can be remade and brought to life.

Adam with his sorrowing family exiled from Paradise begs you to respond.
Abraham and David asks to agree. The patriarchs and all our ancestors look  for your answer. All the earth waits to hear.

Answer quickly, O Mary, quickly answer the angel and through him the Lord. Say the word and receive the Word of God; say your word, and receive God’s Word. Speak a passing word, and embrace the eternal Word.

Don’t delay or be afraid. Open your heart to faith, your mouth to praise and your  womb to the Creator.  The desired of the nations is at the door knocking. Open to him.

And Mary said: Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to your word.”