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.

The Value of Contradictions

The General Constitutions of the SFO has as its purpose, the application of the Rule of Life. Recently I had the pleasure of making a direct connection between the gospel reading of the day and a particular article I was pondering. What a joy.

 

… [Secular Franciscans] discover in [Christ, poor and crucified] the value of contradictions for the sake of justice and the meaning of the difficulties and the crosses of daily life. With Him they can accept the will of the Father even under the most difficult circumstances and live the Franciscan spirit of peace, rejecting every doctrine contrary to human dignity. (SFO General Constitution, Article 10)

Notice how this article is embodied in the following Gospel passage (Mk 3:1-6).

Jesus entered the synagogue. There was a man there who had a withered hand. They watched Jesus closely to see if he would cure him on the Sabbath so that they might accuse him. He said to the man with the withered hand, "Come up here before us." Then he said to the Pharisees, "Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath rather than to do evil, to save life rather than to destroy it?" But they remained silent. Looking round at them with anger and grieved at their hardness of heart, Jesus said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." He stretched it out and his hand was restored. The Pharisees went out and immediately took counsel with the Herodians against him to put him to death.

Jesus is prophesized to be 'a sign that is contradicted' by the world [Luke 2:34]. A contradiction can be viewed as an opposing statement. When we speak of someone becoming 'a sign that is contradicted' we mean an individual who contests the accepted thinking and pays a price for his or her stand. Wherever the Church insists on justice and human dignity over degrading circumstances it too becomes 'a sign of contradiction', and it is 'spoken against' (i.e. resisted), even violently, by those who seek to marginalize its voice and minimize its demand.

The wisdom of the world tries to seduce us into dropping our mantle of contradiction and so we too often fail our responsibility to fight injustice. Most often we just can't put our (withered) finger on exactly what is the problem because we've grown accustomed to following twisted rules created for promoting self interests. But as the gospel passage shows, even well intentioned rules (including religious rules) can interfere with God's plan to reach out to his beloved children and offer healing and salvation.

This is not a small problem. It's the curse of legalism where the letter of the law opposes the spirit of the law. So many of our attempts to solve social problems end up in these horrifying paradoxes; where we reap unintended consequences. These consequences are frustrating and often difficult and painful and are suffered unevenly. The Church, even if it doesn't own perfect solutions, nevertheless acts as a 'sign of contradiction'; opposing dark outcomes and continually casting light into shadowy areas.

We don't relish our duty to confront injustice because of the pain involved. Yet we're called to this role for the sake of the gospel and we must carry these crosses and count them as holy because they counter the attacks on 'God's will for his children'. This is the basis for human dignity. It's not difficult to see that this is what Jesus was doing when he carried out the will of his Heavenly Father by healing on the Sabbath, and in doing so opposed the heartless thinking of the Pharisees at a terrible cost. 'They went out immediately and took counsel to put him to death.'

This same 'opposition' is an integral step in our own mission; 'to build a more fraternal and evangelical world so that the kingdom of God may be brought about more effectively' (SFO Rule, Art. 14).  Unfortunately, being 'spoken against' is difficult and painful. We can expect to be ridiculed and persecuted for promoting causes that are 'signs of contradiction'. If they have persecuted me, they will persecute you also. (Jn. 15:20) But this is at the very core of our call to be Gospel witnesses.

Defining Progress

Christianity does not have a notion that history always progresses, that, things are always getting better for mankind. When we read the Book of Revelation we see that humanity actually moves in circles. Over and over there are horrors that then dissipate, only to be followed by new ones. Nor is there any prophecy of an inner-historical, man-made state of salvation. The idea that human affairs necessarily get better and better has no support in the Christian outlook. What does on the other hand, belong to the Christian faith is the certainty that God never abandons man and that man therefore can never become a pure failure, even though today many believe it would be better if man had never appeared on the scene. (Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger – Salt of the Earth)

At some point in my life I began to see the world from a less self-centered perspective and began to thing and act in ways that would hopefully bring about material progress and better living conditions for others in our temporal state. Later I began to realize this goal must be pursued not only in the realm of natural sciences and technology but in the moral sense of changing our behaviors to reflect a spiritual view that causes individuals to rise above natural inclinations. For Christians, the template of this behavior is the person of Jesus Christ.

We profess a Faith of love, and compassion; mercy and justice, which calls for true solidarity among Earth's inhabitants. Very importantly, this solidarity arises when we conform ourselves to Christ and it dissolves when we look to uniting without Him. In this sense, true human progress is attained as mankind unites spiritually and in a manner that is faithful to its real destiny, union with God.

We grow our relationship with God, in the very soil of humility and personal sacrifice, all the while faithfully trusting in an invisible seed of divine life in each individual, whether seen or unseen. And we can do this even in the midst of uneven human behavior which seems to cycle between inspiration towards God and monstrous depravity. In other words, each soul can (and should) faithfully move towards God even if the world seems heading towards calamity.

I've tried to avoid being easily fooled by humanistic movements of misguided hope where mankind is 'saved' by technology, education, schemes of social welfare, or some new political philosophy. This can be difficult at times, because we are truly inspired to show our Faith's reality in concrete love and compassion: to help alleviate suffering and misery in the name of our Lord of love. Real Christian love arises in sacrifice and self-giving and is the only way in which the world becomes a better place.

Our true progress will be mirrored in human affairs as we grow in unity, but only if that unity is attached to the Body of Christ. This is the hallmark of understanding these cycles of descent to new horrors and tragedies. Our Lord's own temptation in the desert is a warning of how we can be drawn away from our real spiritual goals by crumbs of bread. In today's terms we are tempted to avoid suffering by terminating human life and labeling it compassion.

In a mystery of the spiritual life, individuals, groups, and societies are forced to roam about the desert in blindness groping for direction. Spiritual literature describes this as a time of purification and renewal. History and Sacred Scripture show us that the family of man has wandered often in the desert, but never alone.

Rest, A Fullness of Gathered Peace

Rest is not idleness; indeed, restlessness is the torment of idle people. It is not relaxation. Relaxation should never be necessary, because the nervous tension which makes it so should never be present. Rest, far from being relaxation, is a culmination, a fullness of gathered peace. Like the fullness and stillness of waters gathered to a flood tide. (Caryll Houselander: The Little Way of the Infant Jesus)

So begins the chapter entitled 'Rest in Christ and let Him rest in you'. Today I'll drift with Caryll's thought as material for a quasi 'Lectio Divina'. But first I should praise Caryll publicly for providing me countless hours of fruitful meditation. Many acclaim her as a mystic, and I've prayed for her intercession; being quite convinced that she enjoyed God's favor even in this life. If you're looking for food for meditation try her writings, as she never disappoints.

Whenever I feel the twinge of restlessness or the pangs of anxiety stealing my calm, I pray that her passage springs to the forefront of awareness, as it is very useful for setting me upon the high path towards peace. Notably, this spiritual 'rest' is not a state of recuperation from fatigue; it may even come in a period of high emotion or zealous activity. I find that it arrives at a time when the heart is pure and the mind is gathered and keen.

When I say the mind is 'gathered and keen' I mean that it is not agitated: that it is not burdened with plotting schemes and the like; though it may be involved deeply in activities of pondering, doing and creating. The heart is pure in that it is not aware of any selfish motives and perhaps not even aware of itself, though it may be in the midst of nurturing, healing, and loving.

Rest is not idleness; indeed, restlessness is the torment of idle people. Inactivity may lead to sensations of impatience, agitation, feeling fidgety or on edge. We should guard our leisure and free time by simply keeping aware of intruding feelings of restlessness and recognizing the need for countermeasures.

Relaxation should never be necessary, because the nervous tension which makes it so should never be present. This is an interesting insight which is challenging. Anyone having read Houselander's autobiography and collected letters knows that she had her share of nervous tension and yet she eventually discerned they signal a lack of peace and rest. I have always valued relaxation because of it's property of reducing stress and tension; and yet Caryll is pointing us toward creating a habit of living in spiritual 'rest' and nipping nervous tension in the bud.

Rest, far from being relaxation, is a culmination, a fullness of gathered peace. The peace that we know as 'Christ's Peace' is the key here. Spiritually we speak of peace, not as lack of conflict, but as harmony with God. "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives." [John 14:27]

Like the fullness and stillness of waters gathered to a flood tide. Flood tide is that entire period when the ocean moves from low to high tide. Its opposite is known as the ebb tide. I spend much of the summer months at the ocean shore where Long Island Sound meets the Atlantic Ocean. Each day is a day to watch the tides bring to culmination, slowly but surely, a 'fullness'. I would imagine there is some peak moment when the tide has reached its potential; when it has fulfilled its destiny. From here the tide is 'turned' and now ebbs.

Looking to the future we imagine the life beyond as 'eternal rest'; a gathering flood tide of eternal life, but with no ebb. 'Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord', is how we pray for our departed friends and loved ones. But to experience some 'eternal rest' in the 'temporal order - here and now' is the gift of the Holy Spirit, offered to the most ordinary of us. A gift given to souls who are willing to live in the harmony of God's peace. A gift to disciples willing to nurture peace even in this 'valley of tears'; where it is abused, neglected and scoffed at. A gift of 'rest' miraculously bestowed even as some select few lift the weight of a heavily burdened cross in the tribulation of daily life. Our gift of 'rest' awaits us here and now, each and every day. Perhaps we can't escape our ebb flows with its daily tensions and distractions, but neither can we avoid the pull of the flood tide, whose culmination is the fullness of gathered peace: our spiritual rest.

Life is Nourished in Peace

This is the time of year when thoughts turn to planting of seeds and to growth. There is a biological definition of 'seed' meaning embryo which is characteristic of reproduction. Every physical seed that you harvest and hold in your hand is life held in store: a marvelous design just waiting for fulfillment. The seed 'waits' until unheralded graces provide the necessary conditions for germination. These include a suitable soil, the circumstance of the right season, and a myriad of proper conditions such as temperature, sunlight and water.

Human life has an even more complex and fragile set of circumstances and conditions necessary for its fulfillment. Peace is one indispensible condition for the fulfillment of the seed of human life. The Catechism tells us that…

"Respect for and development of human life requires peace'. Peace is not merely the absence of war,[…]. Peace cannot be attained on earth without the safeguarding the goods of persons, free communication among men, respect for the dignity of persons and peoples, and the assiduous practice of fraternity. Peace is 'the tranquility of order'. Peace is the work of justice and the effect of charity" [CCC 2304].

I fear we're tempted to think of peace as a naturally occurring substance; omnipresent unless some wrongdoer interferes with its generation. It's 'just there when it's there'; very much taken for granted. But 'peace' itself must be planted, cultivated and grown: as such we need to take the view of the farmer who dedicates his very self to producing nourishment for others. Note that the farmer makes purposeful intent to grow and produce his harvest: his method is a far cry from our ancient ancestor who took to gathering whatever they could find. Relying only upon a supply of naturally occurring 'peace' is as detrimental to the wellbeing of a civilization as relying upon an uncultivated, naturally occurring supply of food.

Have we considered establishing projects modeling the Agricultural Extension Service as a way to practically enhance our "cultivation of the seeds of peace?" It's a useful comparison; as there is much need to learn good propagation techniques; and there are 'natural enemies to peace'. Just as in agriculture, pests and diseases make the growth of 'peace' a struggle and labor. Some of these pests and diseases are poorly formed human attitudes and behaviors which run about like the 'evil sower', casting weeds among the good wheat. This must be confronted and controlled: in a peaceful manner of course.

In an age of advanced development and high interconnectivity we need 'peace' more than ever in superabundance. It seems that some are content to gather only the naturally occurring 'peace'. We must convert them and seek their enlistment in our cause. Christians in particular need to take up the vocation of peacemakers (or shall we call ourselves peace farmers).

There is a secondary meaning in which 'seed' is seen as the 'source of something': the source of a significant change in outlook or action. Some readers might look upon this change and cast 'seeds of doubt or skepticism'. My hope and endeavor is that we will begin to take the cultivation of peace as seriously as we do other of life's necessities. If I were to title an introductory meditation or study for this 'Agricultural Extension Service of Peace', it would be: Peace is Gathered as a Harvest – Life is Nourished in Peace. I hope you will add other titles or comments to develop the program.

Entangled Victims: A Misguided Torture Policy

My last post alluded to one of my strongly held convictions; that the manner in which we confront evil circumstances in our lives is of crucial concern to our own spiritual well being. After creating that post I had it reaffirmed as I was browsing about the blogosphere and dropping comments here and there. I'd like to weave these various inspirations together to show that we can easily become entangled victims when confronting evil; as our own chosen tactics often drag us down.

My first stop was to a blog called I Have to Sit Down., where a mother of seven and self proclaimed Lenten Theologian, named Simcha, explained in very clear terms her understanding of how evil is 'not something': actually, it's a 'lack of something'. After considering the Genesis story of 'the fall' she concludes:

"Worst of all, evil convinces you that your new perspective, your new insight, is the way things really are. Once you have the knowledge of evil, it's hard to see anything good."

This is a keen insight: she's telling us that what we have 'gained' by the knowledge of evil is a distortion or privation of 'good'. Since we've all inherited this 'gain/loss' we are now wounded and easily confused. In effect we've inherited 'darkness or sin' which is a 'diminution of the light of Christ'.

My next stop was Postmodern Papist where the author has been consistently speaking up and linking to other posts against the practice of torture. In one of his comments he remarks:

"I'm more and more convinced that the most pressing moral crisis this country faces is not relativism but consequentialism."

Well that sounds important and I think I know what it means; but just to be sure I 'Googled' myself into a crash course in 'consequentialism'; a philosophical construct identified [i.e. labeled] and opposed by Elizabeth Anscombe. [Professor Anscombe was a noted Catholic philosopher and mother of seven (that's two in one post!) who steadfastly promoted Pro-Life causes. She stood up to toast when the Vatican reaffirmed its stand against contraception. She participated in the English version of Operation Rescue and was arrested for defending life.]

I myself am not academically or editorially constrained; so let me characterize (even bend) this school of thought (consequentialism) into a common phrase: the end justifies the means. This is an unwise way of judging our own actions: in fact our actions really don't matter, as long as the outcome is advantageous or has a utility. Prof. Anscombe decried such thinking.

Of course this form of thinking is rampant in our culture today. This thinking (and its cousin utilitarianism) is imperative to what John Paul II termed 'The Culture of Death'. All actions are weighted against a desired end with hardly a thought given to who or what is trampled in the process. Under this system of thought it's easy to justify an abortion…simply look beyond all the actions involved and only consider any desirable end result…let's say for instance…'the goodness of life unencumbered'.

So what of our Nation's 'torture policy'? One way to see this clearly, is to note that no one (other than an unrepentant sadist) sees torture as good in and of itself. It is necessary to suspend our sensibilities, keep it quiet and in the dark, (or record the act then destroy the recording) and hope for a benefit. Again, it overlooks the action and hopes for a good result. Putting any action under light is a great way to test it legitimacy. Even the horror of war is able to be viewed and reviewed. We honor our soldiers and commemorate great battles and struggles. But the act of torture…can we view it and pin medals on those who perform it? Torture simply cannot stand up to the light.

In one of my comments at Postmodern Papist I concluded with this:

"When we oppose the practice of torture we are primarily concerned with the intrinsic evil of the act itself. Though sometimes we're defending those who are corrupt and not innocent, we need to keep in mind (if we're considering this in the light of Christ) that the torturer and his/her supporters are doing much spiritual damage to themselves as well. My spiritual worldview leads me to fight this evil [insert: ALL evils] in a manner that doesn't only consider the result, but also the means and the benefit to all."

This issue of torture (and by extension the battle against terrorism) points out an example of what I was trying to draw out in my last post: namely that we can't give in to the temptation of fighting evil with evil. I'm well aware that it's risky to bring out talk of 'Christlike actions' in a discussion about confronting the 'evil of terrorism': nevertheless when all is said and done, evil can never be eliminated with more evil.

Penance Must Precede Peace

Reflection upon a few paragraphs from Mirror of Christ: Francis of Assisi, by Isidore O'Brien, O.F.M.; St. Anthony's Guild, Paterson, NJ; 1944 [Pgs. 157-158]

He [Francis] who lived so completely the Gospel realized with a clarity grasped by so few the evangelical truth that penance, sincere and strong, must precede peace, as the needle must precede the thread.

The above observation uses an unusually keen image to explain one of the principles of Francis with brilliance. It is so perceptive that we should devote special attention to its meaning and its guidance.

Francis possesses a deep appreciation for the consequence of 'our fallen nature'; the effects of sin and the resulting chaos that distorts all our relations. He preaches penance as the way to 'restore order', which is ultimately what we mean when we speak of 'building peace'. Stated another way, 'peace' is a reflection of our harmony with God. St. Augustine called this 'the tranquility of right order; and a necessary precondition for this state is a change in heart, or repentance. This opens the way for peace.

Francis saw clearly: sin had thrown the whole moral world out of balance; only the practice of penance and co-operation with grace could restore that balance for the individual and the world; only in that balance would men find peace. Therefore he preached penance…

The great announcement of the Gospel is not 'Listen and believe the Good News.' It is clearly 'Repent and believe the Good News.' [Mark 1:15] Repentance begins by acknowledging that we have offended God which results in discord; and subsequently, accepting the 'right order' of God's way - which has among its fruit, 'peace'. Of course, the change we call repentance, is not a one time act. The Seraphic Saint preached that conversion was daily and ongoing. It is strengthened and renewed in daily penitential practices which are vital for those who would bring about peace.

One of the chief goals of doing penance is to draw attention to what is most important and to strip away deceptions and pretexts that hide truth. This invariably involves the difficult process of dying to oneself and overcoming selfishness. Francis describes the Penitent in this way; as one who…'loves the Lord with their whole soul and mind and strength, and love their neighbors as themselves, and hate their bodies with their vices and sins…and produce worthy fruits of penance.'

'Hating one's body with its vices and sin', is to detest whatever it is in our 'fallen state' that causes us to reject God; and as an antidote, to take up the life of penance with the help of grace, to reestablish harmony with God. The penitential life is a sacrificial life: a life in which everything is viewed and judged in the light of God. Priorities are modified or reversed, while simultaneously, trust in 'Abba' our loving Father is strengthened. Peace is gathered as a harvest. Life is nourished in Peace.

… and one on the chief fruits of his preaching was the formation of the Order of Penitents, [The Third Order]: an institution that brought peace to individuals and cities and communities and even to nations...

The Catechism tells us that…'Respect for and development of human life requires peace' [CCC 2304]. It's this characteristic that demands our steadfast commitment and labor. How will we, as today's enlistment in the 'Order of Penitents', account for our time and effort in building peace? Peace as saving ointment and healing balm, (as opposed to faithless 'peacemaking' bombs), for the rest of the world.

To seek political or temporal peace is certainly one of Francis' legacies. Yet it understates what is called for in our vocation as peacemakers. To reveal to fellow human beings the beauty of Peace as 'harmony with God', (and therefore each other and Creation), is the highest form of peacemaking. Those who can see clearly what St. Francis saw, namely the relation between penance and peace; will be delighted to put that insight into practice.

Reading the Prologue to our Rule and connecting 'peace' with what it means to 'do penance' and 'not do penance', will open our hearts and help us to shun chaos and restore right order. "Oh, how happy and blessed are these men and women when they do these things and persevere in doing them because 'the spirit of the Lord will rest upon them' and he will 'make his home and dwelling among them'…"

True Penitents are not glum and their call is never outdated. They are in great demand. They bring something essential to the world: God's Peace.

Transforming Power of Love and Pardon

Mindful that they are bearers of peace which must be built up unceasingly, they should seek out ways of unity and fraternal harmony through dialogue, trusting in the divine seed in everyone and in the transforming power of love and pardon. [Beginning of Article XIX - SFO Rule]

_______________________

The article highlighted above has been for me, one of the most inspiring yet challenging demands contained in the entire Rule. Inspiring, in that it tells us what is to be done, how to do it, and supplies the power that brings it about. The desired goal is to 'build peace'. The work or activity is to 'seek unity and harmony through dialogue'. The power to bring it about is in the 'love and pardon' we bestow upon others.

Now the challenge. Since this is so clearly stated, then why, at times, do we have difficulty in embracing the task and obtaining the wondrous results? Let's examine some of the elements and see what could be lacking.

Are we mindful that we are bearers of peace? Do we have sufficient awareness of the mantle of peace that is bestowed upon our spiritual family? What saint is more universally associated with the charism of peace, than Francis?

Do we really want peace? The fruitfulness of our desire is somehow tied to the purity of our intentions. Building peace always involves a sacrifice: it requires relinquishing power, shunning privileges and sharing resources. Do we trust in the providence of God and reject a competitive mindset in which everything is limited and fought over?

Are we willing to do the work or activity? Some training might be involved such as obtaining better social and communication skills. Can we dialogue with someone without rushing headlong into an argument? Learning to listen is ever in demand. Will we find the time and exert the effort needed?

Do we trust that the divine seed is in everyone? Certainly no medical X-ray will find this seed. Many are simply unwilling to consent to this faith demand. And yet without it there is no basis for peace. We live in a world that descends not only to denying the divine seed, but even further, falsely describing enemies as less than human. Do we provide a response?

Will we unleash the transforming power of love and pardon? Or imprison it in never-ending justifications of why we don't have to forgive? Excuses abound: 'the other side is beyond forgiveness'…'doesn't deserve forgiveness'…'hasn't asked for forgiveness'…'won't accept forgiveness'…and so on. But wait: the point of receiving the 'transforming power of love and forgiveness'...is to use it. We don't need to ask permission to give 'love and pardon'. In fact, we will be held accountable if we don't give it.

Brothers and Sisters, the Lord himself says…"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God" [Matt. 5:9]. We're empowered as peacemakers by our profession of the Rule. If the results aren't evident it's most likely due to the challenges mentioned above. We must desire peace. We must do the work for peace. We must rely upon the transforming power of love and pardon to achieve peace.