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.

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’?

Trusting God in Turmoil

This past year has been turbulent; one of fear and anxiety. Financial panic has gripped the world and only recently subsided. Our confidence in the future has been shaken and our dreams have given way to harsh realities. So this may be an opportune time to step back and see what role our faith can play in overcoming the turmoil.

Renew our trust in God. Stress almost always boils down to a lack of control and many of our spiritual battles are about 'who's in control'. Don't give in to anxiety. The first thing is to gather ourselves spiritually and to make an 'act of trust' in God. Doing so is a concrete form of humility. If we, as creatures, have any control over the circumstances, it's in placing our highest confidence in our Creator as a loving Father (or loving Mother). The point is that we are the object of God's love; a love which never changes, and we must keep faith, even in difficult circumstances.

Realign our values and make change. (The old fashioned term would be repentance) This is an opportunity to see how our own financial behavior reflects our commitment to gospel living. Are we so fearful of tomorrow that we neglect today? Sometimes the uncertainties of the future can crowd out the love and joy available in this very moment. Are we open to the needs of others, or do we see them as burdens? Our fallen human nature tells us that our neighbor is our competitor; one who drains us: but the gospel proclaims our solidarity and asks for self-sacrifice.

Realize that faith transforms us and the world. A crisis always contains the seeds of new growth. Times like these not only test our faith, but also fortify it, especially as we practice it. Witnessing Christ to others brings about God's Kingdom here on Earth. Even if the world should fall into catastrophe we do little to help by falling into despair. Times such as these, with the world in disarray, are also the times when the world becomes open to a new message.

Work for justice. The world is constantly yearning for better economic outcomes and the Church joins in this quest while insisting on the dignity of each person. In a very real sense work is a gift from God and part of our human development. In working we share in creation and redemption and serve our community. Therefore we need to promote human work (labor) as both a gift and a responsibility (see Article XVI, SFO Rule). We do so in a twofold manner: primarily by the testimony of our own lives and beyond that in taking courageous initiatives in public life (see Article XV).

Decide to take action now. The more we give as Christ gives, the more we receive Christ in return. As St. Francis would say…'it is in giving that we receive'. Ask God who you can help. Look for Christ among us especially in those in need. Let others see Christ in you through your compassion.

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).

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.

Francis Entered Where Theologians Stand Outside

St. Francis had never studied Sacred Scripture, but unwearied application to prayer and the continual practice of virtue had purified his spiritual vision, so that his keen intellect was bathed in the radiance of eternal light and penetrated its depths. Free from every stain, his genius pierced to the heart of its mysteries and by affective love he entered where theologians with their science stand outside. [Bonaventure; Major Life; Chapter XI; Section 1]

What St. Francis receives as 'eternal light' is never wasted; it is carefully pondered and diligently acted upon. This dual response of reflection and action (especially penitential action) sets him apart for God's spirit; so much so, that what is commonly received, even in the sacramental graces available to all, is in St. Francis raised to mystical heights.

Growth in understanding along with purification of body, mind and soul, went hand in hand in his ascent to sanctification. Each insight was a precious seed to be nourished and cultivated to full development. Not only deep meditation, but intense action was his road of holiness. Mortification of all spiritual distraction was continual; whether in his body, mind or soul. Each insight he received involved not only an understanding to gaze upon, but a decision to act upon. At each step he was carefully transformed into the likeness of Christ through insight and knowledge, along with continual 'dying to oneself'.

I am finding that my own spiritual growth lately comes in short burst where small and simple insights are strained and studied. What's missing for me is what St. Bonaventure refers to as the 'continual practice of virtue'. Pondering sacred scripture without 'the practice of virtue' is like hopping along on one leg. What St. Francis preaches by his own life, is that racing toward God takes two legs in coordinated strides: one of understanding and knowledge, the other in penance and bodily mortification. Knowledge of divine affairs and mortification of human affairs go together as complimentary characteristics of spiritual life: either alone is incomplete.

This 'inconvenient truth' is tempting to run away from, but we do so at our own peril. As difficult as the practice of penance is to embrace, it's critically important in revitalizing the Church and its members. We simply cannot reduce the spiritual life to a longing for union with the divine, without the elements of purification and mortification of our human nature. It's this integration of 'knowledge' and 'practice of virtue' in all its fullness that's at the heart of St. Bonaventure's observation: 'Francis enters where theologians stand outside'.

This lesson is beneficial for all members of the Church. It is hallmark for those of us who are called to spiritual life in the way of Francis. The twofold way in which the Seraphic Saint responded to the promptings of the Holy Spirit might today be called 'holistic' in that it embraces body, mind and soul. It transforms us more completely and more quickly. It directs our relationship more properly to God and neighbor. To carefully unpack the opening words of St. Bonaventure sets a framework for understanding and applying Franciscan spirituality. Hopefully my short reflection won't confuse the issue.

So after twenty plus years of profession it's time to begin anew; to re-enter with fresh insight the heart of the Franciscan calling: "The rule and life of the Secular Franciscan is this: to observe the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ by following the example of St. Francis of Assisi, who made Christ the inspiration and center of his life with God and people." [Article IV: The Way of 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

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.