The Saint and the Sultan

The Crusades, Islam, and Francis of Assisi's Mission of Peace

[A mixture of reflection and book review]

May the Lord give you peace.

It seems that the death of bin Laden has had a mixed effect on me, causing me to search for a real gospel approach to the problem of enmity and hatred. Through twists and turns I discovered the book The Saint and the Sultan by Professor Paul Moses. As soon as I entered its realm, I found myself open to its inspiration and nourished by its meaning. What I discovered was the 'sonorous voice of St. Francis' singing a neglected gospel canticle of peace and reconciliation to a world trapped in an unholy embrace of hostility and death.

The author is a journalist, not a historian, nevertheless he utilizes extensive travel and research into the life and times of St. Francis. The Seraphic Saint is revealed beyond the traditional sources through additional chronicles, journals, and documents. There are substantial notes and references, yet its very readable. The portrayal of St. Francis is very convincing, because we see him committed to the gospel in a way that signals his uncompromising belief in the transformative power of love and pardon. (see Article XIX, SFO Rule)

One of the goals of the book is to reignite Francis of Assisi's missionary vision of peace among peoples who are estranged.  To understand what Francis has to say we must first see his conversion in the context of his lived experiences, particularly his intimate contact with war; its bloodshed, imprisonment, and all the other demons that swirl around the battlefield. This perspective is what makes the book a success. It's into this wounded and tortured soul that the seeds of the gospel find their mortified soil.  Now the young Francis is sufficiently transformed to encounter the Savior in his vision.  From here he laucnches into a new life of penance and poverty with no restraint.

The Saint and the Sultan attempts to explain why the message of St. Francis (specifically regarding his attitude toward war) is clouded. According to the author, those attempting to convey the charism of Francis are caught in conflicting cross currents. Then as now, the first casualty of war is truth.  The aura of St. Francis had to pass through a Church mired in difficult circumstances. Even the rivalry within the early Franciscan Order plays some part in altering the sublime message.

Perhaps this 'cover up' is the most controversial claim of the book. Nevertheless, I chose to align with the stated goal of revealing St. Francis as the model of peacemaker in the highest order.  The radical expression of the gospel as shown in the life of Francis remains the more relevant message and overshadows the need to find a conspiracy. 

The Church of his time is in disarray, but we already knew this, since Christ himself spoke to the Poverello…'Francis, go and repair my Church, which you can see is falling into ruin'. The real and imagined heresies bred suspicion and anxiety and raised the specter of severe condemnation, even death to those taking opposing positions. Professor Moses reveals to his readers the historical scene and its relevant characters candidly, yet he meticulously sticks to his theme while sparing his readers a diatribe. This is one of the subtle lessons of the book.

During the lifetime of Francis, the relic of the 'True Cross' accompanied the Crusaders into battle. Thus the Cross became both divine protection and weapon against the foe. One's standing with God was manifested in the winning or losing of the battle; but either way, the mission was deemed sacrosanct. While the worldly Francis would have applauded this, the penitent Francis came to see through it with a more penetrating vision.

For Francis in his journey, the 'True Cross' remains a symbol of victory; but one of victory over sin and death. The power of the Cross is inherent in one's surrender to the Will of the Father, which Christ did in accepting the burden of the sins of the world. For Francis, this giving of oneself to God (for Christians through Christ) is in some manner recognizable in the belief of the Saracens. The term 'Islam' means 'submission to the will of God and obedience of His law'. Francis indeed wanted to convert the Saracens (not merely coexist with them), but he already recognized and affirmed the innate image of God in the hearts of the foe. For Francis, to enter into mortal battle with others contained no glory, but rather came to signify a tragedy; a nullification of the gospel itself.  'Love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.'

For me there are two important findings in this work. One is a real satisfaction in having contemplated a more lucid understanding of St. Francis; he's always been more enigmatic than I'm comfortable with. For this alone, The Saint and the Sultan deserves to be recognized as a contribution to the understanding of the Poverello. I'm grateful for having seen a new perspective which actually strengthens my commitment to his way of life.

The second finding is the promotion of a message that's been obscure and badly needed. To my mind, the practice of gospel peacemaking as St. Francis shows is not tied to consensus thinking nor does it require the approval of others. It is willing to go it alone with its only requirement being a purified heart and faithful recognition of the divine seed in the other. The other is never evaluated in terms of their moral state or worthiness; love and pardon are extended unconditionally. Even the prospect of a failed attempt at peace is unimportant; indeed it is a distraction, because the work of bringing gospel love and forgiveness is life-giving to the bearer and efficacious to the world, even when it is scorned.

Comments welcomed.  Peace and all good.

Penance and Perspective

Whenever we speak or act (or judge matters) we bring a certain perspective into play. Our personal perspective is shaped by a myriad of factors. Life experiences, age, family members, income level, health status, and much more; all influence how we see the world and how we interact with it. If our vantage point ceases to change so does our potential for spiritual growth.

Interesting novels employ fictional characters to draw us into new situations, from which emerges triumph or tragedy. Think of the Dickens' character Ebenezer Scrooge, and how his near death glimpse into a world he was indifferent to, brought about his conversion. Changing perspectives doesn't alter what we look at, but it does change our relation to it.

When we collaborate with others in humility and good will, we share new perspectives which often form a mosaic of new understanding and action. When this participation in dialogue and action occurs in a religious fraternity or community, it becomes one of the striking 'tools' that God uses to bring about true 'formation'; not only for the individual, but for the entire community. If this setting invokes trust, we're free to become vulnerable and risk new perspectives and question old assumptions.

So how does the practice of penance play a role in this formation?

Penance and the penitential life are about practices which foster conversion. They should include in their goal, new or renewed perspectives that bring forth gospel action. The penance of fasting, for example, would be misguided if it didn't bring us into some sense of dependency on God, hunger for justice, stripping of selfish behavior, etc. It would be lacking if it didn't stir some action towards almsgiving or sharing. But if the penance is successful it changes our perspective and motivates us to act rightly. This is what St. Francis means when he says we must bring forth 'worthy fruits of penance'.

Penance as mortification is voluntary suffering, and suffering has much to teach us. Dealing with a dreaded illness most certainly changes our perspective. One moment life is carefree; and suddenly we must confront pain and limitations. We now experience human suffering that hardly caught our attention in the past. We feel neglect and comfort; a taste of alienation and the tenderness of love. So now we see, now we know. We receive healing or we don't, each with its unique perspective; but either way, we are given the seeds of change.

Will we bring forth 'worthy fruits of penance'? The first step is to choose and cultivate a penance that invites a new perspective. We need to create an awareness of the fleeing refugee, running from terror. We ought to evoke compassion for the neglected elderly, too tired to care for themselves. We should wonder what it's like to journey as an immigrant, desperate for work. We can be patient with abused or neglected youth who are confused and bored. We have to get ourselves into communion with these souls, to see what's hidden in our blind spot.

Our perspectives are limited, our judgment less than perfect, and our penance incomplete.

--

Listening for God’s Sake

Then Jesus cried aloud: "Whoever believes in me believes not in me but in him who sent me…for I have not spoken on my own, but the Father who sent me has himself given me a commandment about what to say and what to speak. And I know that his commandment is eternal life. What I speak, therefore, I speak just as the Father told me." (John 12: 44,49-50)

I think I've found my new task for ongoing conversion. Every so often sleepy gospel passages spring to life and beckon me to open myself to their power. Such words are 'spirit and life'. The time has come to reconsider my vocation's meaning and to surrender it into the Father's hands for his purposes.

One purpose of formation is to equip us for this sacred act of listening and responding to the 'Will of God'. This is true discipleship and it is a costly endeavor. It requires self-sacrifice and emptying of self; all for the preparing of a free heart to serve God. I'm not interested in a diploma in holiness, but a relationship with God, and a heartfelt desire to bring about his presence to others.

It's a risky act to give one's will over to someone else, even God. This requires trust in God's goodness and faith in his divine love. Moreover, we hope that this love is over-abounding to our weak love. The light (evidence) we have is the incarnation of Jesus, who embodies the Father's love. By the power of the Holy Spirit, this testimony is carried on through time, by a host of imperfect disciples to us.

So we in turn, must step into that ecclesial mission of 'giving birth to Jesus', in order that the world receives its spiritual light here and now, in our authentic living of the gospel. Most likely, our particular divine mission will never be trumpeted as such. It may be so humdrum and routine that it's indistinguishable from the ordinary circumstances of our lives. Therefore, it will probably involve more prayerful listening and an earnest desire to hear the 'Will of the Father' amidst a culture of hypnotic distractions and noise.

So what are the techniques for better listening? Perhaps it's nothing new, but rather attentiveness to what we've already heard. We might simply listen with a truly open heart to the gospel and accept its message more docilely. Or take the Rule more seriously and embrace it with greater determination as the center of our 'plan of life'. We might pray more with the Saints and look for clues in how they responded to God.

Those of us who have chosen the Franciscan journey have the additional help of walking the path joyfully in fraternity, quickened by the common goal of our vocations. Listening (and responding) for God's sake.

Do You Have a Plan of Life?

“The spirituality of the Secular Franciscan is a plan of life centered on the person and on the following of Christ, rather than a detailed program to be put into practice.” (Article 9: SFO General Constitutions [GC].

In an earlier reflection I remarked: “What is characteristic of a spiritual family or tradition is that it embodies a ‘spirituality'; which is another name for a 'way', a 'path', […] which guides us towards our calling: Living the Gospel in union with Christ.” With that in mind let’s examine the article above from our SFO General Constitutions.

How often do we even think about a ‘plan of life’? Are we generally aware of any purpose or plan? I have to sadly admit that too often I find myself drifting through life aimlessly, shielded by habits and routines developed to maximize comfort and avoid stress. This might mean that I have a set of conflicting life plans, or one anemic plan, etc., you get the point.  Just writing this makes me aware that I need a course correction…a boatload of ongoing conversion.

But our spirituality calls for a ‘plan of life’ that is centered on the person and on the following of Christ… This is a plan based upon living in a real relationship with the person of Jesus, one that should be growing through inspiration and prayer in clarity of purpose, and deepening in commitment over time. We should see our lives resembling the gospel more and more.

Since we are individuals with different talents, inspirations and circumstances, we have unique plans of life; but what they should have in common is that they are ‘centered on the person and on the following of Christ’. As our Seraphic Father has said, “I have done what is mine to do, may Christ teach you what is yours to do.” (2Celano, 214)

In my opinion, the main goal of never ending Fraternity formation is to develop and animate our ‘Christ-centered plan of life’. This includes the difficult process of our own transformation (what Franciscans call ‘conformation’): that dying to self and living in Christ. The foundation to all of this is persistent prayer and reflection on the gospels…going from gospel to life and life to the gospel. (Art.IV, SFO Rule)

So, if we’re responding to a genuine call, our initial task becomes a radical reorientation of ‘our own life plan’ (some might call this repentance), to one based upon the person of Jesus: to bring forth his presence and to do his will. We’re successful to the extent that we’re united in Christ and that we reveal him to one another. Yet even more mysterious is when Christ disguise’s himself in us in order to accomplish his Will.

Somehow we need to call to mind what it is that the Franciscan family represents; and to know its mission in the Church and in the world. From that perspective, how are you preparing for your mission…do you have a ‘plan of life’?

Getting Out of the Way

In the spiritual life I've discerned a general mission that begins with my own on-going conversion and extends to the world around me. In some mysterious sense, I find myself oscillating between my own spiritual needs and a need to be available for others. It's awkwardly comfortable and lately my consolation comes through meeting the needs of others.

This past winter I became a volunteer at a local soup kitchen and each week I make myself available for a few hours. Some of the time is spent in kitchen work, but my real purpose (according to the staff) is to mingle with the patrons and listen. My initial reaction was trepidation, but the Holy Spirit has consoled me and helped me to listen more attentively and speak more supportively. There's definitely an art to 'Christian listening' and it involves something I call 'getting out of the way'. It's a simple role but its life giving and profoundly spiritual, as long as I allow the Spirit free reign.

I'm not trained in serving the poor, so I refer any material needs to members of the staff; who are creative in finding solutions and resources. After some months at doing this, it's clear that my primary role is to be present and listen. It's also clear that there's a reward far greater than the small sacrifice I offer. (Speaking of sacrifice; we moderns have tried to avoid it rather than embrace it for others, and in doing so we've traded our unity with others, for discord and blame.)

In some way my life is being altered because of the role I play as listener. I have more of an opportunity and an obligation to share God's grace. Yet when I'm in the presence of someone in need, it's not clear whether this grace moves toward or away from me. What is clear is that the life of Christ arises as I step aside. The opposite is also true, that the gospel life diminishes as my own self-centeredness appears.

Self-centeredness becomes most obvious when I see others as 'wrong'. I 'get in the way' when I classify some individual's behavior as 'foolish'. I push Christ aside when I quantify someone else's 'weaknesses'. On the other hand, the gospel emerges when I focus on the needs of others, and it is exalted when I assist someone who's alienated or alone. Jesus is revealed when people are nurtured in any way, but he's glorified the most, when the poor are lifted up in their most undeserving moments. If I take the gospel seriously, then I have to be Christ-like to the most difficult person I can find.

Listening is actually a privilege and all of the souls I've met have been far from difficult: in fact they've been downright pleasant. And they've given me their time unselfishly, and aided me with their spirits. So I'll try to help by simply 'getting out of the way' and letting them unload their burdens for a short while.

Labeling Our Conversions

I find the expression 'gospel conversion' is spoken of with two distinct meanings, which occasionally are used interchangeably, and thus a source of confusion. In one sense we mean an initial commitment to Christ which is cause for new life through the Sacrament of Baptism and incorporation into the Body of Christ. The term 'convert' applies here if one is experiencing Christian initiation.

In a second and distinct sense, 'gospel conversion' means a renewal or deepening of faith. Often this is experienced as awakening, zeal or renewal of spirit. Other manifestations include the return to (or beginning of) religious practice, realignment of life towards the gospel, purification of sin, etc. Baptized Christians often speak of 'reversion' to signify this delayed or renewed sense of conversion.

The first form of conversion can happen only once, while the second should happen daily. We should distinguish between the two aspects of 'conversion' in order to carry them out meaningfully. If we use them interchangeably without understanding the progression, then we're bound to confuse ourselves and others.

An important point to consider is that for most of us our first 'conversion' happens without our knowledge or consent. With infant baptism the child is initiated into new spiritual life based upon the faith, love and commitment of parents and godparents. Some dissenters are thrown by this fact, but fail to consider that in a very real sense, new spiritual life is transmitted in the same fashion as natural life – through the action of others.

It's very much an act of humility to accept our new life as a true gift with it joys, burdens, and responsibilities; even if we did not chose it directly. With new life (both natural and spiritual) we are impelled necessarily to grow beyond the seed. And we must grow in Christian values through attachment to the source of life, the 'true and living vine' spoken of in John 15:1-6.

Ongoing conversion is the process of daily transformation (Franciscans say conformation) to Christ. Part of the 'ongoing conversion experience' involves awareness initially, and then a call to action. In many ways our paths are similar (devotion to prayer, liturgy and sacraments), but in other ways are paths are unique, with the Lord calling us to particular vocations and specific tasks; all with the purpose of bringing about the Kingdom of God here on Earth.

Here is an article from the Rule of the Secular Franciscan Order regarding our union with Christ through conversion "…let them conform their thoughts and deeds to those of Christ by means of that radical interior change which the gospel itself calls 'conversion'. Human frailty makes it necessary that this conversion be carried out daily. On this road to renewal the Sacrament of Penance is the privileged sign of the Father's mercy and the source of grace. (Article VII – SFO Rule) Clearly the first form of conversion/initiation is presumed and the focus is on conversion as transformation and renewal which includes reconciliation.

Those of us who have fallen away or lapsed from church attendance and practice, often remember with great joy some moment of return and reinstatement. For many, the renewal is so great as to create a sense that the past was all for naught. But in fact, grace builds upon grace and renewal builds upon foundations; even those unseen. For Catholics, with our practice of infant baptism, we have the inspiration to impart new spiritual life based upon the faith, love and commitment of others (parents and godparents), all with the hope that our new members will take up their own 'ongoing conversion' as they mature.

Standing on My Head Does Hurt

…But it's worth it to get the most insightful perspective.

[This reflection was originally posted on 2/28/08. Since it bears on the election and since I've been distracted of late by the election process, I'll offer it again. Peace and all good. --Tausign]

G.K. Chesterton noted of my beloved St. Francis; "He who has seen the vision of his city [nation] upside-down, has seen it the right way up." It's the ordinary vision of live (i.e. the worldly way) that lacks imagination. And it's the gospel way of life, with its foolish imaginary ideals, that holds the greatest hope.

As we contemplate the upcoming electoral process the focus of national attention will be upon the candidates. I take the election process as solemn duty with utmost seriousness: but with no illusion. For the cause of change that most people seek is not in the leadership; at least not in a democratic nation such as ours. No, the true cause of change is in the electorate; for there lays the problem and the solution.

The general population is apt to think that we are 'victims' of our own political process: never feeling satisfied with the outcome and rarely being united, unless some large common foe forces us, through fear, to band together. For the most part we view the problems that must be addressed as other than our own: personal problems, faults, miscalculations, or misdeeds of others. The corollary of this is that the interests that must be defended are usually our own: in fact these interests are often in opposition to the interests of others.

This is the stark reality: and it is quite upside-down.

At another blog the topic of late is; what qualities are necessary to define a good candidate? This is an important consideration for sure, but as much as I disdain cynical thinking, I nevertheless commented with this skeptical remark:

"A fearful people will get a tyrant to protect them. An avaricious people will get a salesman to provide what they simply must have. A people unwilling to feed themselves will get someone to feed them. But a nation of people who are not afraid; are not greedy; and are willing to provide for themselves and perhaps a neighbor to boot...well they might call forth a person of humility."

Why should we look for and expect qualities in a candidate that are not manifestly sought after in a personal way by the electorate as a whole? Seriously, if you think the culture is in decline and decay and the vast majority has lost their senses on vital matters: then how can we reasonably expect a political solution? The best possible outcome would be for the 'right thinking' few to somehow pull an upset, and force by some 'set of rules', others to fall in line. That's just upside-down thinking.

And this is why so many default to seeing the whole process as a subjugation of a true majority of 'right thinking' citizens somehow being overpowered by nefarious entities: the manipulating media; profit hungry corporations; evil special interests, (the list is endless). They 'thwart' the 'right thinkers'. All manner of theories arise (with some half truths thrown in for veracity) which explain how our power is exorcised from our hands. Have you noticed that these groups are always made up of 'them'…and never of 'us'?

This is why the gospel never speaks of a political solution to the woes that we endure. My political theory is thus: The political process merely reveals the state of conversion of a nation. A virtuous nation will call forth a virtuous leader. When we fight and win the conversion battle (beginning with ourselves), then we won't need the political savior…we won't cry out for Barabbas to lead our cause. As important as the political battle is; it pales in comparison to the battle for conversion of the nation. The priority must be correct.

My greatest hopes and endeavors are focused not so much on the nation, but on the Kingdom within the nation. My battle is from the inside-out (my own conversion first and by extension others around me). Many, (surely not enough) have been praying and fasting, and will continue to so for our upside-down nation. We've begged God through his Holy Mother to shower graces upon us. Now we need to incorporate the graces. The solution is nothing less than a life of enduring penance as Our Lady has told us, repeatedly.

If the Christian community in particular continues to take a secular approach and avoid penance, then we are in for the longest of long pulls. As I remarked in in a post some time ago:

"Contemporary opinion of the practice [doing penance] is often seen as unnecessary and ludicrous; outdated and old fashioned; even backward and harmful. Yet, when the practice of 'doing penance' is put into actual usage, it quickly loses its absurdity and induces a sense of wisdom and good judgment."

To borrow a metaphor from an earlier reflection: Penance must precede great moral change as surely as a needle must precede the thread. Abortion, war, pornography, torture, poverty, drugs and a very long list of evils will simply not diminish unless and until a much larger conversion of hearts takes place. Some tipping point must be achieved. To imagine a world of less evil without great conversion is ludicrous. So if we imagine that we can push threads through fabric with our bare hands (for that is what relying on the political process alone entails) we are fooling ourselves. Penance is the indispensable means to both pierce the fabric (our hearts) and pull through the threads of our desire for change. "Let us begin anew, for as yet we have done nothing" (St. Francis of Assisi).

Living and Suffering Through Sacred Text

One of the greatest joys of life is the illumination of our actual lived experience under the light of the gospel. For the believer, great portions of the mundane happenstance of everyday existence become transformed into new life by the process known as 'going from gospel to life, and life to the gospel'. Even in a place of suffering, life is succored with spiritual meaning when a passage of Scripture imparts its grace in tiny epiphanies. This is how I experience 'spiritual or graced life'; and it's this singular quality that I find lacking in those who swear and insist that gospel living is 'for the birds'.

Gospel verses and canticles carry the breath of spiritual life (grace) as a current, if you will, which imparts actual force into any living soul. The believer, once awakened, begins to sense stirrings due to the vigor of these Scriptural verses. We pull the gospel into our lives, and lo and behold, we begin to experience effects that can be quite moving. Depending on our current state they can be either consoling or disturbing; they have power (sometimes unwanted and unwelcome) which is often emotive as well as intellectual. And yet this testimony of the Word of God is too frequently rendered void or inert. Why?

Often critics or inquirers of faith, look to 'reason' as the high-point of discernment in evaluating any of the claims that believers make. They mistrust sensations, dreams, and even intuition (emotive reasoning) as 'lowly' evidence or foolishness. This is surprising because careful observation shows that 'higher reasoning' alone is hardly ever the quality that impels someone to make life altering changes even in regards to natural matters. Indeed, we've all discovered in ourselves the ability to suspend or deny the dictates of 'reason' in order to avert the 'pain' associated with making important and necessary changes. Often being comfortable or attracted to a pleasurable state far outweighs whatever demands that 'sound reason' would ask of us.

One of the great 'experiments that can be researched and tested' is to take a detached position and witness the effect of Sacred Scripture upon ourselves; believers or nonbelievers alike. The gospel's inspiration or provocation (depending on your relation to its message) doesn't serve to prove anything other than it has a force. Individual's can seek to discern its meaning and validity by their reaction to its demands in the lived experience of their lives. Loose translation: 'The Gospel works or it doesn't'. I suspect that this is the ultimate arbiter of whether we make an assent of 'faith' or not. The existence [or not] of God is not contingent upon a proclamation of my faith; but the 'reality of my faith', (a reality that transcends a mere belief system or coherent framework for living), depends upon the existence of God. This is not absurd or unreal thinking. It's both logical and reasonable.

Sometimes sacred text does allow and even begs us to test its own veracity. Try wrestling with this claim…"Indeed, the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow; it is able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart." [Heb. 4:12]. One adage of Christian spiritual life is that 'sin' and the habit of reading sacred scripture cannot coexist: which is to say that a very real effect is discerned when we contrast the 'gospel life' with our own. Even if we don't find the word 'sin' in our moral vocabulary, believer and non-believer alike universally speak in terms of 'good and evil'. The Holy Father, Benedict XVI, provides guidance in that we 'live through' and 'suffer through' the sacred text. It's a challenge for sure, and yet, it's essential if we hope to discover spiritual reality and interpret it correctly. Speaking of interpretation:

The Saints are true interpreters of Holy Scripture. The meaning of a given passage of the Bible becomes most intelligible in those human beings who have been totally transfixed by it and have lived it out. Interpretation of Scripture can never be a purely academic affair, and it cannot be relegated to the purely historical. Scripture is full of potential for the future, a potential that can only be opened up when someone "lives through" and "suffers through" the sacred text. [Jesus of Nazareth; pg 78, Pope Benedict XVI]

More by Example than by Preaching

The following passages are from St. Bonaventure's 'Major Life of St. Francis', [Part I - Chapter VIII]. They explain the reality of the Poverello's conversionary zeal and the importance he placed on witnessing an authentic Christian life before a word leaves our mouth.

Compassion, as St. Paul tells us, is all-availing, and it filled the heart of Francis and penetrated its depths to such an extent that his whole life seemed to be governed by it. It was loving compassion which united him to God in prayer and caused his transformation into Christ by sharing his sufferings. It was this which led him to devote himself humbly to his neighbor and enabled him to return to the state of primeval innocence by restoring man's harmony with the whole of creation.

The words above cannot fully convey to us what graces filled the saint's heart. Bonaventure and the other early writers often describe Francis in affective terms. We rely on external expressions of emotion, to reveal an inner reality that resides in the heart, over and above the intellect. The suffering of Christ on the cross became the 'school' in which Francis received his spiritual education. His 'knowledge' was 'compassion' and his teaching method was contained in his personal sharing of the suffering of others.

Loving compassion made him regard everything with affection but especially the souls which Jesus Christ redeemed with his precious blood. If he saw one of them being stained with sin, he grieved with such heartfelt pity that he seemed to be in travail over them continually like a mother in Christ.

What Francis learned in the 'school of the cross' was to feel the effect of sin on the sinner; not as an abstract or intellectual calculation, but rather as real loss in the way that a mother experiences the injury of her child. The Seraphic Saint 'grieves' for the sinner. For Francis, the devout Christian succors and aids the sinner as a mother does: caring and restoring health to an ailing child.

This was the principal reason why he had such respect for those who preached God's word—by their labor and zeal for the conversion of sinners and their pastoral anxiety they beget children in the name of Christ, our dear Brother who was crucified for sinners. He was convinced that such a work of mercy was more acceptable to the merciful Father than any sacrifice, particularly if it was done in a spirit of perfect charity, more by example than by preaching, more by fervent prayer than by longwinded sermons. [Emphasis added]

"Preach the gospel; if necessary use words", is a widely circulated saying attributed to St. Francis, (though he never spoke it directly). It's often reduced to a cliché uttered for consolation when Christians can't find inspiring words. But Francis was an outstanding preacher and 'preaching by example' was not a fallback for ineffective words. It was (and still is) spiritual common sense that gospel living is integral to gospel preaching. He regarded the compassionate witnessing of a good life as the instrument of conversion par excellence; as a result he deeply lamented that the grace of conversion could be assaulted by scandal and bad example.

St. Francis used to say that we should feel sorry for a preacher who sought his own glory in his work and not the good of his listeners, or who destroyed by the example of his bad life what he had accomplished by his teaching. Such a man was devoid of any true religious spirit. He maintained that an ordinary friar with no claim to eloquence was in a better position because he encouraged others to do good by his good example.

The 'ordinary friar' referred to here is not a priest but a religious penitent. The testimony of their lives stood out in shining fashion; and together with the heartfelt compassion for those who suffered, these qualities had a great effect on accomplishing the mission given to Francis by our Lord at San Damiano: 'Rebuild My Church'. This witnessing by the friars and their secular penitential associates (the third order) breathed new life into moribund souls.

He explained the phrase. "The barren womb bears many" (1 Samuel 2:5) in this way, "The barren woman is my poor friar who is not appointed to bring forth children in the Church. But at the last judgment he will bring forth many, because then the Judge will set down to his glory all those whom he is now converting to Christ by his secret prayers. 'The fruitful mother is left to languish' (ibid) means that the vain and loquacious preacher who now prides himself on those whom he imagines he has begotten by his own powers will see then that he had nothing to do with their salvation."

In this interpretation, the ordinary Christian who holds no 'office' for preaching and conversion, nonetheless has unseen powers in prayer and sacrifice; and even more power by the example of living a Christian life with love and compassion for others; with mercy and forgiveness. They receive no earthly awareness of the 'children they bring forth' into the Kingdom of God. But the Judge of us all will show us the spiritual life we have helped to pass on simply by living our gospel life fully and with heartfelt concern for others.

Picnic with Brother Bandits

(O Seraphic Father St. Francis; long has it been since I have spoken of you and your ways: forgive me. Here is a story of conversion and penance.)

How St. Francis and his 'lesser brethren' (the friars minor) won the souls of bandits by humility and charity [Mirror of Perfection - #66].

A party of bandits who used to hide in the woods and rob travelers occasionally came for food to a hermitage of the friars situated above Borgo San Sepolcro. Some friars said that it was not right to give them alms, while others did so out of compassion and urged them to repent. Meanwhile blessed Francis came to this friary, and the brothers asked him whether it was right to give them alms.

The eternal debate: Who is my neighbor? Are the criminal poor entitled to compassion? Are they suitable candidates for repentance? Some say 'yes': others complain. Enter the Poverello; what does he have to offer? He counsels kindness and compassion for the conversion of bandits: while supplying spiritual guidance for his 'lesser brethren', a path for their sanctification.

And he said to them, 'If you will do as I tell you, I trust in God that he shall win their souls. So go and bring some good bread and wine, and take it to the woods where they live. And shout to them saying, "Brother Bandits, come to us. We are friars, and are bringing you some good bread and wine!" And they will come at once. Then you must spread a cloth on the ground, place the bread and wine on it, and serve them humbly and gladly until they have eaten.

The divine absurdity: Feed the thieves; serve them gladly and with great humility. Doesn't this resemble our Lords own action? Let the cloth cover the ground as the linen covers the altar: offer good bread and wine to them.

After the meal speak to them of our Lord's words, and end by asking them for the love of God to grant your first request, which is to promise not to strike or injure anyone. For if you ask for everything at once, they will not listen to you; but because you are humble and loving they will promise this immediately.

Can this really work, Brother Francis? Will love open their twisted hearts? 'Yes of course, each time they hurt others they do more harm to themselves, though they don't see it.' 'Give them God's words – let the Holy Spirit counsel them through you.' 'You yourselves, my brothers are to be God's Word.' 'They won't see or hear their Savior and Lord Jesus, unless you carry Him within you.'

On a later day take them eggs and cheese with the bread and wine to show that you appreciate their promise, and serve them until they have eaten. And after the meal say to them, "Why do you stay here all day to die of hunger, and suffer so much hardship? And why do you do so many evil things for which you will lose your souls unless you turn to God? It is better to serve God, for He will both supply your bodily needs in this world, and save your souls at the last." Then God will move them to repentance because of the humility and charity that you have shown them.'

'We did as you said Father Francis and we ourselves were filled with the Holy Spirit.' 'When they saw that we came back with food again, and were joyful in being with them, they were moved and amazed.' 'Not only that, but they realized the foolishness of their old ways and asked if they could have our joy.'

So the friars did everything that blessed Francis had told them, and by the grace and mercy of God the bandits listened to them, and punctiliously observed all that the friars had humbly asked of them. Further, because of the friars' humility and friendship towards them, they themselves humbly began to serve the friars and carried logs up to the hermitage on their shoulders for them. At length some of the bandits entered the Order; the others confessed their crimes and did penance for their sins, laying their hands in those of the friars, and promising that henceforward they would live by their own labor and never do such things again.

They confessed and did penance. Eight hundred years have passed and those with the spirit of St. Francis continue to call out: "Brother Bandits, come to us. We are friars, and are bringing you some good bread and wine!"

Caught In the ‘Catholic Mom’ Vortex

New Year's Day is the secular world's equivalent of Ash Wednesday: the day to resolve great changes and repent. Not of moral failings mind you, but of sins against secular demigods- such as 'perfect physical appearance', 'high productivity' and 'smooth efficiency'. If weight loss and exercise were not the foremost New Year's resolution; then the only possible rival would be the need to get organized and be more productive.

Catholic bloggers are not immune to this cultural tsunami. We examine ourselves a few days before the year turns and then promptly drop to our knees wailing lamentations of 'goals not accomplished', 'houses not thoroughly cleaned', and 'insufficient income streams'. Those who don't post, but merely comment; fling ashes over their heads and rend their bathrobes sobbing; "me too - mea culpa!"

[Disclosure: I am quite new to the blogosphere and still getting my bearings; and seem to have been 'Spirit guided' into a 'network of consciousness' which I'll loosely label - 'Catholic Moms Vortex'. OK, I'm not a mom… (Nevertheless, I am married to one and she's the greatest)...I admit I'm a dad…and even a granddad. But for heavens sakes, I'm trying to stay in the Catholic realm and only know how to explore via 'links or blogrolls'. Thus I keep getting bounced around into this never ending universe of Catholic Maternity.]

Now being a lay person professed to a third order [please read my welcome post] I'm really interested in how my fellow lay folk experience God in their lives and so I seek to share the Spirit. Therefore, I bounce around these blogs expecting to discern the Lord's promptings and interact. When I post on my own site I try to be very considered…when I comment on your site I'm more apt to shoot from the hip.

So what have I observed in the 'Catholic Mom Vortex'? Well they're quite committed to their families and desperately trying to get God 'right'. They're doing the impossible with tears and grace…and giving each other spiritual direction; for better or for worse. They're the Church's renaissance; it's quite evident. I am totally convinced that the Holy Spirit is raising up a new generation of renewal; and for that I give God thanks and praise!

My second observation is this: everyone has a 'full plate': All have a litany of family and extended relations, duties, and activities: enough to choke a horse. The number one question discussed in the 'vortex' is where does God fit in with all these elements of daily life?

The answer: God doesn't fit on the plate - God is the plate. Or to state it more accurately: our relationship with God underlies and affects every aspect of our life. Hence, a small but consistent amount of time and attention devoted to Christian formation works wondrous results.

As a useful matter, it's helpful to discern what color or glaze your 'plate' is. This is called a primary spirituality. Mine is distinctively Franciscan; and to know which spiritual family you fall into will propel your spiritual life. I promise to take this up as a practical matter in a future post.

Finally, what of the rate of change that we observe in our spiritual life? Oh, how Catholic Moms torment themselves with this one. I wrote a post months ago which addressed this very topic: Unhurriedness is One of God's Characteristics. Hope you can find time to read it.

Carrying Christ Unseen

[A Rosary Meditation on the 2^nd Joyful Mystery – The Visitation]

I am very fond of this Orthodox icon known as 'The Virgin of the Sign'. The iconographer wants us to 'read' the image and have it speak to our hearts. The icon is not specifically a 'nativity' icon; and yet to me it 'speaks' vastly of what St. Luke intended to portray in the Gospel account we call 'The Visitation' [Luke 1: 39-45]. Please take a moment to gaze upon the icon and imagine you are Elizabeth as your eyes catch Mary approaching.

The Orthodox tradition sees in this Icon, Mary as the whole Church (a living Holy Temple) which brings Jesus into the world. I find contemplation of this Icon also conveys (at least potentially), what St. Francis envisioned when he spoke of our 'Being mothers to our Lord Jesus'.

Contemplating the image of Jesus - now in the young Virgin – we see the promised Emmanuel (God with us). In Luke's account, Jesus is still unseen and unknown to the world. Even so, upon hearing Mary's voice, Elizabeth and the unborn John do 'perceive' Him.

From the first moment of conception in Mary's womb Christ is fully active (by virtue of his Divine Personhood), and free to bring about the Will of his heavenly Father who sent him. Because Mary is 'full of grace' she in no way obscures her Son's presence. Since the Virgin is carrying Christ yet unseen, she is able to call out to Elizabeth: and in doing so have her voice speak 'the unheard voice of Jesus', who summons the Holy Spirit upon them all.

The gathering in the 'hill country' of Mary with Elizabeth is in some way an early glance into Pentecost. John is 'quickened' as his cousin draws near; Elizabeth, filled with the Holy Spirit, is brought to great joy; and Mary herself bursts into high praise which has come to be known as 'The Magnificat'. Isn't this burst of life, joy and praise, a 'prior echo' of what will happen a lifetime later to the Apostles and Mary in the 'upper room'?

Our Lady is always pleasing her Son by carrying him unseen to where he must be. What of our Lord's desired to be carried by you and me to where he wishes to be? Is this so strange? Isn't this the manner Jesus has chosen to move among us until the day in which he returns in glory? Within the span of time past, our Lord's earthly presence was so incredibly brief. Had his presence ended on Calvary we would be pitiable. But he intended for us to have life 'in Him, with Him and through Him'. And even more mysteriously the Divine Son desires to incarnate his life 'in us, with us, and through us'.

'The Virgin of the Sign' calls me to be a 'holy temple'. (Do you sense its beckoning?) I find joy in knowing that this 'Infant God' has called me to bring him forth into the world: something that is both a task and a privilege. And for me the lament of life comes when I somehow fail the task and bring obscurity and darkness in place of Love.

This is very much about whether we have heard and understood the call to be Disciples of Christ. About whether we have allowed and cultivated the transformation which began at our baptism: a mission to 'carry Christ unseen'. And yet have Him be recognized in our Christ-like presence, words and deeds. He is most recognized in our love and pardon.

This carrying out of God's will through our presence and actions, wherein we become the Lord's hands and voice, is a vocation that needs to be contemplated and nurtured. We are fed in diverse ways; but most essentially through Scripture and Sacrament.

This is the spiritual journey: where disciples walk all roads and bring about a perpetual state of 'Visitation' to our neighbors. This is the consequence of our one baptism: and our ongoing repentance, conversion, metanoia. All of them speak so eloquently of our transformation into what has been called the 'mystical body of Christ'.

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Unhurriedness Is One of God’s Characteristics

"Unhurriedness is one of God's characteristics and is manifested in nearly all His works. The lightning flash is instantaneous, it is true, but the thundercloud is slow in building. [Volcanoes] may erupt without notice, but their nether fires burn the lava long before it boils out the fault in the earth's crust. The meteor may plummet in white heat through our atmosphere, but it traveled far across space before the pull of our planet dragged it from its trajectory. In other words, sudden phenomena are but the results of processes that work slowly, through fixed laws"... [Isidore O'Brien, O.F.M.; Mirror of Christ: Francis of Assisi; 1944; pg 29]

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Unhurried (adjective): done in a relaxed and deliberate way. (Synonyms): thoughtfulness, consideration, purposefulness.

Conversion, metanoia, and repentance, are all words that imply a change in direction, even a change in state. What has drifted off target is now properly aligned. What was dead is raised to new life. We know that it's God's grace that accomplishes or at least precedes our change.

Our expectations as to how quickly this change should take place can be a hindrance in realizing any spiritual goal; be it a change in sinful behavior, growth in virtue, or the bearing of fruit in the apostolate. In our modern way of life, we have become slaves to fast, quick, and easy. So much so, that we are disappointed when our desires are delayed. We are frustrated when our apostolate is slow in bearing fruit.

What's missing is the awareness of God's 'unhurriedness': His care and purposefulness in all matters. The Divine workings are usually unseen, so much so that we are unmindful of their presence; in the same way that we are unaware of the air we breathe. Perhaps these workings are even mysteriously veiled in order to counter our conceit and prevent us from taking credit for what is truly a gift.

Picture loving parents, sitting in awe watching their toddler play with 'building blocks'. They have no concern for the 'block structure'...that's bound to tumble over. Rather their gaze is upon the beauty of the child: a child who is growing and developing; all according to a mysterious design. Their role is to nourish and sustain proper development…in an 'unhurried' manner…with thoughtfulness, consideration, and purposefulness.

Regarding ourselves, can we look for hidden graces in the 'unhurried' ongoing conversion of each and every day, and pay less attention to 'how high we've stacked the blocks'? Can we discern how the whole and entirety of the activities taking place, in all of the time we are allotted, are somehow contributing, little by little, to our spiritual formation? Again, all of this taking place in a relaxed manner…purposefully…unhurriedly.

Consider St. Paul's conversion. The direct encounter with our Lord on the road to Damascus was a terribly dramatic event. It was as the flash of lightning…the complete change in trajectory of his spiritual zeal. But we should not overlook the long and sustained divine movements that were at work before the conversion. Paul tells us himself that he was"…advancing in Judaism beyond many of the same age, for I was more zealous for the traditions of my ancestors ." He further explains that he was "called and set apart in his mother's womb." (see Gal. 1:14-15) We remember the dramatic, while giving little credence to the 'unhurried' workings. How 'unhurried' the way of God, working even from the womb.

What of our own ongoing conversions? Take the long view. When reflecting upon highlighted moments of great joy, or darkened moments of painful distress; think of the long path that brought you there (like that of the meteor). Pay attention to unnoticed simple events and those habitual behaviors that appear mundane and of no concern. These are actually the nether fires under the volcano, waiting to erupt when the unusual circumstance arrives. This is where God's 'unhurried' transformation is taking place; cooperate with it.

Finally, what of our resistance to conversion, our fear of how daunting the challenge appears? Yes, daunting when looking for sudden and dramatic results. But to cooperate with God's grace over time - full of confidence that unhurriedness is one of God's characteristics; gives us the patience to see and know that roots are taking hold, foundations are being built, and mountains are being moved.

The Leper Heals Francis

An excerpt and reflection from an out of print biography: Some Loves of the Seraphic Saint, by Fr. Augustine, OFM Cap.; Published in 1944; M.H. Gill and Son, Ltd., Dublin; Pgs 29-31.

In describing the conversion process of Francis, Fr. Augustine speaks of various encounters that he had to overcome. The first he called the visible enemies, the second, invisible foes, and the third...the greatest foe of all--himself. This final encounter refers to his own attitude and feelings about people that he feared intensely...lepers. The biographer tells us that Francis' revulsion was surprising; note the reason why.

"Before his conversion, the lepers had always inspired him with disgust. Even the sight of one in the distance filled him with horror and dread. He would never give them alms directly, but always through an intermediary. A hospital especially devoted to their care stood on the plain in the vicinity of Assisi, and whenever he went in this direction on business or for pleasure, to escape the nauseating odor…he hurried past with averted and closed nostrils. This is all the stranger when we remember that the leper inspired great veneration in these ages of Faith. The reason of this veneration was that the Prophet Isaiah represented the future Messiah as a leper struck by God and humiliated. [cf. Is 53 –The Suffering Servant]. Hence the lepers more than all other sufferers were looked upon as an image of the Redeemer, and spoken of tenderly as "the poor of the good God" and "the sick ones of the good God." Christ himself, too, during the days of His mortal life, had great compassion on the lepers, and never closed His ears to their appeals for cure. Legend had also consecrated stories of lepers being changed into Jesus himself in the arms of their benefactors. In spite of all this, however, Francis could not overcome the natural repugnance which the very sight of one excited in him."

The sight of someone radically deformed, disfigured or diseased can cause an emotional response that is extreme and repulsive. Some deep seated fear of the afflicted person; their pain, misery, and alienation; touches us and we naturally look to run away. It's akin to the fear of death, and in some sense perhaps, worse. Whatever is in Francis that must be purified, is holding him back. It's the last battle, so to speak, before he becomes entirely available for God's work.

"But the Lord was leading him by the hand and slowly purifying his sensitive nature. One day as he was riding across the plain below Assisi absorbed in thought, his horse suddenly swerved a little, and, looking up, Francis saw a leper before him asking for alms. His whole soul sickened at the sight, and his first inclination was to cast some coin on the ground, spur his horse and ride away. But he reproached himself in stern tones: "Thou art not yet a knight of Christ if thou canst not conquer thyself."

Francis is aware of the battle struggling within and laments his failure. It is well for us to stop and consider how these terrible moments which we dread, are so vital for us to overcome on our journey toward The Kingdom. If we could only remember to cry out: "God, come to my assistance; Lord, make haste to help." Yet God did come to his assistance.

"The vision in the cave rose up before him, and he saw the figure of the wounded, bleeding Christ reflected in the leper. A wave of pity, compassionate love passed over his heart, and reining in his horse, he leaped down, ran back to the poor sufferer, placed a generous sum of money in his wasted hand, and then, raising it reverently to his lips, kissed it. Before the leper could utter a word Francis had clasped him in his arms, and received, in turn, the kiss of peace from the poor stricken one of the good God. Having borne away the prize in the third encounter, Francis felt that he was now a true knight of Christ."

Francis plunges into the mystery that God works even through suffering to accomplish his will. The leper becomes God's instrument of healing--to Francis; allowing the Divine Person to pour through and dissipate the fear and revulsion that had occupied his heart.