God’s Economy is Bizarre

We instinctively suppose we should work from strength, handing on to others the riches that are ours. Instead, we often do our best work when we operate from weakness and totally empty hands, passing on something we do not possess, producing effects we can in no way explain out of who we are. God's economy is bizarre; there is no employment quite as baffling as his. (Thomas N. Hart, The Art of Christian Listening, pgs: 12-13)

Humility is so often misrepresented and poorly understood, but the excerpt above points towards its true purpose and expresses its rightful benefit. Holy humility has less to do with the expression of our personality and more to do with finding our strength in God. This simple understanding is a key to opening ourselves to God's grace; to operating beneficially in God's economy.

We're speaking of the way in which God applies the divine will in our everyday affairs. Our 'Sister', Holy Humility, is not so concerned with annihilating our faults (God can work through them) as she is in releasing the real source of strength, the Holy Spirit, into the lives of those we encounter. Most believers acknowledge the power of God in an overarching way throughout history, yet many discount the unknown spiritual movement that happens daily through our powerlessness.

This is joyful to contemplate. Rather than complaining about the spiritual or material gifts we seemingly lack, we do better in sharing what little we do have. In fact, we can rejoice in our poverty because it allows God to provide his richness in the most wholesome and unexpected manner. It's not nearly as paradoxical as it seems; it's true faith in action.

In the last post I spoke of 'getting out of the way'. Overall, I was referring to impediments of 'self-centeredness' that distort and short circuit the message of the gospel. Even so, it's a wonder to behold how God's will is accomplished more readily, and seen more easily, in our own limitations. We need this awareness (humility) to counter our sense of helplessness, especially when circumstances are beyond our control.

It is in Giving that We Receive

One of the reasons I love the Franciscan way of life is its willing acceptance of the paradoxes of Christian life. Followers of Francis have that seemingly odd spiritual sense of embracing what the world finds absurd. It's a quality of finding what you're not looking for by searching for the wrong thing. For instance, striving to become the leader and discovering that a true leader is really the servant of all the rest. We grow by becoming small, rather than lording it over others. We receive by giving, not taking. We discover a rich life through spiritual poverty or we find true greatness in holy humility. (Note: I count this uncommon quality as an authentic sign of a Franciscan vocation; conversely someone who resists this inclination is applying at the wrong door.)

Of course Franciscans don't own this quality, it's basic to Christian spirituality; but it is a hallmark of our spiritual family. Other paradoxical traits include simplicity and pardon. Simplicity disarms cunning and overcomes worldly wisdom (which is really foolishness). Forgiveness and love have the power to sting a wrongdoer and may ultimately transform a heart to goodness (see Article XIX of the SFO Rule). To follow Francis is to necessarily enjoy the paradox of finding our strength (which comes from God), in our weakness.

This quality is heralded in The Prayer of St. Francis: (an excerpt)

For it is in giving that we receive, It is in pardoning that we are pardoned, And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

We could easily misunderstand or limit our understanding of the above passage. We might conclude that when we give, we begin a chain reaction that results in our receiving something in return. This is the world's rationale. Or again, when we pardon, we're setting a good example, and therefore we might hope it will be contagious and spark a return. Indeed, sometimes this is the case. Nevertheless, whether we receive anything back, or are pardoned in return, is actually irrelevant to the greater good of uniting with the Will of God.

Sadly, our experience teaches us that our gifts are often spurned and our forgiveness is usually trodden underfoot. As bad as that seems it gets worse, because we foolishly translate this into disappointment in others, and sometimes in God. We often judge our own uncharitable ways as justified, because we gave but did not receive in return. But here in the world's disappointing behavior St Francis finds an inverse response to the situation; he shows us joy, something Francis referred to as 'Perfect Joy'. (If you're unfamiliar with 'Perfect Joy', click here.)

What the Prayer of St. Francis says to me is that when we give of ourselves, we do as God has shown us in the giving of his Son Jesus; and we simultaneously receive the gift of the Son. When we pardon from our hearts unconditionally; we pardon others in the manner God has pardoned us; and in doing so, we receive our own eternal pardon. Finally, and perhaps most paradoxical, we must hasten our death to our own unhealthy inclinations. When we're ready to immerse ourselves in a baptism of death to the old man, only then are we ready to rise to new and glorious life.

For those of us who are professed into the Order, we have the responsibility to live out these inverse qualities of poverty, humility, simplicity, chastity and all the rest, in manner appropriate to our state in life. In doing so to make it clear that Jesus is present in us and to not obscure his image in any way. If we fail to show this life we're squandering precious time (Mea Culpa).

The Edge is Embedded in the Core

I've always known that Franciscans sprout in all the nooks and crannies of the known world so it's good to find kindred spirits any and everywhere. Of course St. Francis is so widely admired that his followers exist passionately in both Catholic and Anglican communities. So when MikeF dropped in here at Perfect Joy, I was obligated to return the call over at The Mercy Blog; and in doing so discover a treasure trove of inspiration. Reflecting on his Franciscan vocation in a recent post he made this remark:

"I think this sense of living "on the margins", this sense that God's new word will be found out on the edges of things, is deeply embedded in the core of what it means to be a Franciscan."

I just love it when fellow bloggers drop inspirational crumbs off their table. I responded of course but this topic is so juicy that it needs an entirely new post. My comment (and this post's title) involved a charitable twisting of his remark to accommodate my insight and yet it concluded this way:

"But you're right, when [Francis] drives down into the mystical core of faith he emerges always at the margins. This is not so much being 'countercultural' or 'on the edge of things' as being freed from entanglements which he knew from experience would fasten chains around him."

There are at least two meanings contained in these remarks. The more obvious is that Franciscans look to those who are marginalized to discover God's 'new word'; that is, to hear what Our Lord is saying for our times. We're apt to find 'the wisdom from above' lacking among the comfortable, the proud, or the powerful: for them the gospel message is so often 'inaudible'. They are more likely to dispense 'conventional wisdom'; the 'wisdom of the world' spoken of in the Letter of St. James [cf. Jas 3:13-18]. This is why the followers of Francis cultivate 'the spirit of detachment' primarily through the use of penance (mortification); and also foster 'ongoing conversion' through Scripture and Sacrament.

The second meaning and the one taken up in my response is that Francis doesn't aim for the margins per se. For St. Francis the center of all of life is the Person of Jesus Christ, so to 'drive down into the mystical core of faith' is to engage Jesus. And in doing so he always emerges somehow on the 'edge of things'; more commonly called 'the margins'. He and his 'lesser brethren' have purposefully taken up the gospel in its most undiluted form; living the Beatitudes, fully and intensely; trusting in the Providence of God, wholeheartedly and without reserve. This form of life and commitment leads them away from the worn barren pathways where God's seeds are continually trodden underfoot.

For Francis the 'new word' is always fresh and inspiring. No matter what the cost of implementing some new insight, there is no concern, for he has set himself free to love and serve the Lord. The further along and the more often Francis discerns God's inspiration the greater is his delight. Whatever resistance he faces in the objection of others is quickly cast aside, because he has completely abandoned his attachments to his former way of life. He has purified his heart; a heart which now is burning intensely in love of Our Lord's Incarnation. Just as the Book of Revelation promises a New Heavens and a New Earth [cf. Rev 21], Francis can glimpse the reality of this new world even now, where all are invited through conversion into the Temple of God.

Those worldly souls who reside in the 'center of things': who have each other to rely on along with their material wealth, are in great need of conversion. Here is where the power of 'preaching by example' rises to the fore, as his life becomes an unmistakable beacon of God's love. His compassionate words, whether consolation, admonition or rebuke; along with his tender witness of love, are like divine tenderizer that softens and transforms even the most hardened heart.

To say that 'the edge is embedded in the core' is of course, a play on words--a twist and almost nonsensical. In the worldly way of seeing things 'the edge' is farthest away from 'the core'. But the gospel is full of seeming contradictions and St. Francis like no other is able to embrace them fully. So too, any followers of his spiritual path must come to embrace the hallmark virtues of minority, poverty and humility that free them from the grasp of the worldly majority. These are the spiritual ways that speak of finding Jesus on the outside of the mainstream-- 'the edge'; while simultaneously embracing Him in the core of one's life.

Love Is Born – Love Is Poor

[A Rosary Meditation on the 3^rd Joyful Mystery – The Nativity]

"Christ, the gift of the Father's love, is the way to him; the truth into which the Holy Spirit leads us; and the life which he has come to give abundantly." [cf. SFO Rule: Article IV.]

Christmas is the day the Church has chosen to celebrate The Incarnation of Our Lord Jesus Christ: The Gift of the Father's Love. Today, Love is born.

From a Crèche prayer to the Divine Infant we hear…"In a word, you became weak to make me strong, poor to enrich me, humble to exalt me, subject to all sufferings in order to free me from all evils and procure for me all blessings."

Weak…poor…humble…subject to suffering? Our Rule tells us: "Trusting in the Father, Christ chose for himself and his mother a poor and humble life… [cf. SFO Rule: Article XI.]

Consider the circumstances regarding our Lords humble birth. Don't overlook how the Holy Family were obliged to leave their home for the census; their arrival at the inn with no room; and their finding refuge within a lowly manger. Amidst all of this we find myriads of angels well aware of all hardships and every detail surrounding the Holy Family; yet proclaiming peace and singing praise to God Most High.

Dedicated Christians quickly come to understand that circumstances and events in the life of Jesus are not the result of happenstance or divine caprice. It is theologically correct, (and therefore very significant), to say that 'Christ chose for himself and his mother a poor and humble life'.

The Word is sent by the Father to reveal a God who is Love: and more, to save us and bring us abundant life. Yet in accepting this greatest of all Christmas gifts, it is required that our hands be empty: this is our poverty. It is simply in the nature of God that in order to 'possess' him we must have open hands and pure hearts to receive.

What are some implications for us as we strive to conform ourselves to our Lord? We could begin by taking into consideration our personal celebration of Christmas itself. We might stop to adore Jesus hidden in the manger and not be overly concerned about the lack of room for him in the inn (or the modern culture). He simply chose not to be born there. "For you know the generous act of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich." [2Cor 8:9]. Don't deny him his poverty even if its specter causes you to shudder.

In the spirit of Christmas giving, I offer to all people of good will, a passage from the Rule of the Secular Franciscans that is free but not cheap…amazingly efficacious…field tested and proven by those who have sought to follow Jesus through the example of St. Francis. It reads:"Thus, in the spirit of 'the Beatitudes'… we should strive to purify our hearts from every tendency and yearning for possession and power."

Indeed, we won't find him in the comfortable inn: but as we 'empty ourselves' we become attracted toward the lowly and holy manger. As we draw near we can hear the shepherds proclaim among those present: "Love is born – Love is poor."

We adore You hidden in the manger.

May Christ's peace be with you this Christmas Season and throughout the New Year.

Tausign

Poverty becomes 'Lady Poverty'

One of the most compelling early Franciscan writings is called Sacrum Commercium*, a spiritual allegory, which was most likely written shortly after Francis's death. While the authorship is open to speculation, I personally favor the argument for Thomas of Celano. At any rate, what is most intriguing about this beautiful writing, is what it shows of the early Franciscan understanding of poverty in the spiritual life.

'Blessed are the poor/Blessed are the poor in spirit'...is interpreted broadly in the Church: individuals react and are affected by its demands in various ways. Yet for Franciscans the meaning is circumscribed by the radical witness of Francis himself. Indeed, the evangelical council of poverty is to be taken as foundational in understanding the Franciscan way. It is lived differently depending on one's state in life, nevertheless it has a primary meaning for the spiritual family as a whole. Of course, Francis is to be taken seriously, as he is ascribed the title 'Mirror of Perfection' and 'Altere Christos', for many good reasons beyond the scope of this reflection.

The designation of poverty as 'Lady Poverty' is attributed to Francis himself. She was his personal spiritual love; in whom he invested the quality of persona...the ability to speak and act and teach us in all wisdom...about the love that the Father has for us, which culminates in his sending his only begotten Son to redeem us.

In one scene, Lady Poverty is present in the Garden of Eden before 'the fall'. She relates;

"I was rejoicing exceedingly and playing before him [Adam] all the while, for possessing nothing, he belonged entirely to God."

In this one sentence she reveals a marvelous insight into the blessing of poverty. This writing rises almost to the level of inspired scripture in that it can be read again and again with ever deepening insights. I highly recommend it.

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^{* This abbreviated title is difficult to translate and is loosely held as "The Sacred Romance of St. Francis with Holy Lady Poverty".}