Reflecting and Responding
Francis of Assisi
The World as Our Cloister
Almighty, eternal, just, and merciful God, grant us . . . to be inwardly cleansed, interiorly enlightened and inflamed by the fire of the Holy Spirit . . . able to follow in the footprints of your beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.
A PRAYER OF ST. FRANCIS
LIKE SO MANY BEFORE HIM, FRANCIS OF ASSISI (1181-1226) had to break free of his fascination with himself before God could use him in a meaningful way. Biographers tell us that until he was twenty-four, he wasted his life in a pampered, self-indulgent lifestyle shielded from the harsh realities of everyday life. His father was a rich textile merchant and the family wealth prevented Francis from facing the truth of his condition.
But then he changed. Around 1205, Francis underwent a dramatic spiritual experience that forever changed him. After a brief imprisonment and a long illness he realized his life was meaningless. This recognition propelled him to find a new anchor for his existence and Jesus became the key. His conviction: to live for God alone by imitating Christ alone.
Renouncing his wealth and even his family, he set out on a new path believing the only way he would find meaning was through a life fully devoted to God. While reading Scripture and listening to a sermon, three separate passages instantly captivated him: “Go, sell your possessions, and give the money to the poor” (Mt 19:21), “Take nothing for your journey” (Lk 9:3) and “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves” (Mt 16:24). Taking these passages to heart, Francis embarked on one of the most arduous and sustained imitations of Christ in all of history.
Francis’s Approach
These three passages form the foundation of Franciscan spirituality. With them in hand and fully aware of his changed condition, there was no turning back for Francis. Every day became a relentless pursuit of perfection in Christ. As days became years, the passion only intensified. This passion in turn became the unrelenting magnet for the entire movement as followers flocked from across Europe to this new way of life. Between 1205 and the Fourth Lateran Council in 1215, scholars document that several thousand people from all walks of life flocked to the “evangelical” life as expressed by Francis.
By “evangelical,” Francis meant a recovery of the life, teachings and spirit of Jesus as contained in and communicated by the four Gospels. Francis firmly believed that the Gospels call believers to express in their own lives a complete and perfect embodiment of the life and spirit of Jesus. His new emphasis conveyed a purity that attracted people. There was nothing sophisticated or hidden in it; the goals and purposes of the Christian life were articulated clearly and simply in concrete terms.
As this movement spread across Europe, Francis’s stature in the eyes of the church increased as well. His combination of sincere humility and transcendent love captivated a society reeling from massive turmoil and disruption. As Bonaventure writes, “Francis longed to be transformed by the fire of ecstatic love. . . . Like a glowing coal he seemed totally absorbed in this flame of divine love.” Bonaventure goes on to note, “[Francis] was drawn to Christ with such a fervent love and the beloved returned such intimate love to him that God’s servant always seemed to feel the presence of his savior before his eyes.”
These recollections and many like them are vivid indications of the passion with which Francis pursued intimacy with Jesus Christ. Known as one of the earliest vernacular theologians, Francis’s simple speech patterns and self-deprecating manner cloaked a highly sophisticated understanding of how we grow in our love and knowledge of God. What is so striking is his unflinching interest in the actual events of the life of Christ. He was not looking for the deeper meaning beyond the event, but believed our experience of the event itself would initiate in our life the very same spiritual response experienced and expressed by Christ.
Francis’s Teaching
The central theme for Francis was imitation of Jesus. Our attempts to imitate Christ connect us with the expression of God in the world. We must be obedient to God in everything, which means following the life and spirit of Jesus always. This imitation not only identifies us with Jesus but allows us to experience the realities of his life directly. When we enter the wilderness to be tried and tempted, we encounter the same spiritual realities Jesus faced. When we journey to a foreign place, we experience the same ambivalent response Jesus did. When we seek to find God and discover instead long, dry periods of spiritual wasteland, we understand Christ’s sense of abandonment during his darkest hours. These experiences and others allow us to see the parallels between our own existence and that of Christ. Drawing on a long-held medieval interpretation, Francis believed the temporal experiences of life express the incarnational realities of Jesus. And these realities ultimately mediate our perfect communion with God.
Francis also emphasized being fully open to the ministry and inspiration of the Holy Spirit. The ability to imitate Christ is a direct result of the Holy Spirit’s power in our life. Beyond our experiences of God and our rational reflections on them, Francis believed first and foremost in pure, unmediated revelation by the Holy Spirit. Thus God can be known only to the extent the Holy Spirit makes him known to us. In all things Francis taught the transparent, inconspicuous and unassuming ways of the Holy Spirit.
By living with openness to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, we discern the third key reality: God’s presence in all creation. When we live with a sacramental view of life, we see how every aspect of the created order bears witness to God and in the process we learn how to look for God in every aspect of our life. In fact, all of creation leads us to love God, honor God’s church, love our neighbor and regard every created thing as a part of our deeper life with God.
As the one institution given by God to bear witness to God’s created order, the church is to be honored and respected. Its teaching is to be followed. It is a key way God is made present to the world, so it is critical that we participate fully in its life and remain true to its teaching. Just as Christ was originally made present through the virgin, so he is now made present through the visible church.
It is in this context that the fifth key theme comes to the fore as we recognize Francis’s unique and intense focus on the Eucharist. Francis viewed the Eucharist as the way in which Christ enters us in order that we might become like him. We make Christ present to the world by ingesting his life and mission through the sacraments and expressing them through acts of love and service.
Francis taught that the Christian community is our context for finding our companionship in Christ. We need spiritual friends for the journey. We need companions who can encourage and sustain us in our life with God. We need Spirit-led, trusted brothers and sisters who can challenge and convict us. Our companionship is determined not by blood lines or race or even nationality. It is determined by our common bond in Christ. It is through spiritual friendship that we understand our spiritual relationship to God.
The seventh key theme is expressing this companionship through gospel living. From his conversion, Francis strived to lead an intense Christian life. His desire to identify totally and fully with Christ even led him to make careless attempts at martyrdom, traveling on three separate occasions to hostile lands in hopes of meeting his demise for the cause of Christ.
Finally, gospel living is manifested in the control we exert and the power we display through the expression of the virtues. True love of our enemy is manifested when we are not upset when an injury is done to us. Patience is displayed not when things are going well, but when they are going poorly. Purity of heart is born of peace of mind and compassion of spirit. Graciousness toward others is achieved when we protect ourselves against envy and wrongdoing by never talking poorly of another. Chastity protects us from utter corruption. Ultimately, Francis emphasizes that we should do nothing but follow the will of the Lord.
The Need for More
Eventually, however, problems with this approach developed. The generation that followed Francis was not sure what to do with his literal interpretations of the life of Christ. Some wanted to continue in the very same path Francis had taken when he started and led the Franciscan order. In reality, however, there was no practical way for this to happen and the order eventually succumbed to the pressure to become an official part of the church. Fortunately, this change received an able defense through the brilliant work of St. Bonaventure. Without his convincing polemics, it is unlikely the Franciscan movement would ever have endured.
REFLECTING AND RESPONDING
I stood with my friend Dallas Willard in Santa Croce, the famous Franciscan church in Florence, Italy. Only a short walk away was the magnificent Duomo cathedral, the de facto center of Florence. The two churches are a contrast in extremes. Both are magnificent but in different ways. The cathedral is simply overwhelming with its ornate bronze doors, which Michelangelo said were “fit to be the gates of Paradise,” bands of elegant green, red and white marble across its entire facade, all marble floors and gilded dome—the largest in the world until Michelangelo outdid it with his design of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Santa Croce is marvelous in its own right, but in a straightforward, simple way with giant wooden beams.
I was puzzling over the mass of tombstones in Santa Croce. The walls are lined with tombs and the floor is paved with some 276 tombstones. Some of the most famous names in Italian history are inscribed there—Michelangelo, Galileo, Dante, Machiavelli, Rossini and more. I wasn’t surprised at the tombs—they are commonplace in medieval churches. What surprised me was that so many prominent figures were buried here and not at the Duomo, which by all accounts is far more impressive and important in the scheme of things. “Why?” I asked. “Why would all these renowned people choose to be buried here and not at the cathedral?”
“Well,” Dallas replied with his characteristic wisdom, “it was because of the extraordinary holiness of Francis and the Franciscan friars that came here. Their power resided in their holiness. Even a hundred years later that holiness still filled the place. It drew people by the thousands and they wanted to be near such uncommon holiness, even in death.” Standing there in Santa Croce, I felt it too. I had been in innumerable European churches, large and small, but here in Santa Croce it was as if the very air was still scented by the quiet, peace-filled holiness of those Friars Minor.
And it is this holiness that has continued to draw millions to the “little brother of Assisi” over the almost eight centuries since. It is what draws me, this holiness of life. It is so attractive. It is so winsome. It is so compelling. It is a holiness that is revealed in passionate devotion, in radical simplicity, in joyful humility.
In Francis of Assisi we see passionate devotion. A story is told of the Lord Bernard of Assisi, one of the richest and wisest noblemen in the city. He had watched Francis for two years and was deeply impressed by how he could endure all the ridicule and abuse with such patience and serenity. Hoping to learn the heart of his spirituality, he determined “to put St. Francis’ holiness to a test.” He invited Francis to supper and to stay the night. He had a bed prepared in his own room, in which a lamp was always kept burning. Francis, wanting to “conceal the divine graces which he had,” climbed into the bed and pretended to fall asleep. Lord Bernard, it seems, was better at this game and “he pretended to be sleeping soundly, and he began to snore loudly.”
Francis, believing that Bernard was fast asleep, arose and knelt by the window and began praying with “intense fervor and devotion,” saying, “My God and my all!” All through the night he continued this way with “intense fervor and devotion,” sobbing out the words with “many tears” and saying only, “My God and my all! My God and my all!” Lord Bernard, watching the whole scene from his bed, was “touched by the Holy Spirit in the depths of his heart.” When morning came Bernard declared, “Brother Francis, I have definitively resolved in my heart to leave the world and to follow you in whatever you order me to do.” Passionate devotion.
In Francis of Assisi we see radical simplicity. Illness and a military disappointment were among the influences that led the sensitive Francis through a lengthy series of intense struggles of the spirit, climaxing in 1206 when his enraged father brought him before the bishop to disinherit him. Francis stripped himself naked and walked away, determined to follow the Lord’s bidding into apostolic poverty.
This espousal of “Lady Poverty” led to numerous ventures. Once Francis and Brother Masseo went begging for bread in a small village. Returning with a few dried crusts, they searched until they found a spring for drinking and a flat rock for a table. As they ate their meager lunch, Francis exclaimed several times, “Oh Brother Masseo, we do not deserve such a great treasure as this!” Finally Brother Masseo protested that such poverty could hardly be called a treasure. They had no cloth, no knife, no dish, no bowl, no house, no table. Elated, Francis replied, “That is what I consider a great treasure—where nothing has been prepared by human labor. But everything here has been supplied by Divine Providence, as is evidenced in the baked bread, fine stone table, and the clear spring.” Joyfully they finished their meal and then journeyed on toward France “rejoicing and praising the Lord in song.” Radical simplicity.
In Francis of Assisi we see joyful humility. Francis called his humble band “God’s jugglers,” whose task was to “revive the hearts of men and lead them into spiritual joy.” Paul Sabatier wrote of Francis, “Perfectly happy, he felt himself more and more impelled to bring others to share his happiness and to proclaim in the four corners of the world how he had attained it.” And away he went, traversing much of Italy, preaching to the sultan in Egypt and engaging in ministry among Muslim peoples. His “Friars Minor” (little friars or little brothers) fanned out over Europe and beyond.
They not only preached, but also sang. Exuberant and joyful, they were often caught up in ecstasy as they worshiped. With the soul of a poet, Francis would improvise their hymns. Best known is his “Canticle of the Sun,” with its celebration of Brother Sun and Sister Moon, Brother Wind and Sister Water. Francis and his Friars Minor knew the joy of the Lord. They were stamped by simple love and joyous trust. They led a cheerful, happy revolt against the spirit of materialism and double-mindedness. Joyful humility.
When Francis was absorbed in prayer at the deserted church of San Damiano in Assisi he heard a command of the crucified Lord. “Francis,” the voice told him, “go and repair my house, which, as you see, is falling completely into ruin.” In response Francis uttered the following prayer as he knelt beneath the crucifix of San Damiano:
Most high,
glorious God,
enlighten the darkness of my heart
and give me, Lord,
a correct faith,
a certain hope,
a perfect charity,
sense and knowledge,