Friday, October 4, 2024

 Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

(Job 38:1.12-21.40:3-5; Luke 10:13-16)

A century after St. Francis’ death his friars collected stories and legends about him in a work called “I Fioeretti” or “Little Flowers.” One story tells of a wolf that was terrorizing the town of Gubbio.  People were afraid to go outside the town walls when Francis arrived and decided to do something about the problem. The people warned him not to leave the unprotected town, but he crossed himself and went on to meet the wolf.

As he approached its lair, the wolf charged at Francis with open jaws. Francis made the sign of the cross again, and the wolf stopped in its tracks bowing its head before the saint. Then Francis scolded him, “Brother Wolf,” he said, “you have done much evil on this earth, destroying and killing God’s creatures without His permission; yes, you have not only destroyed animals, but you have even dared to devour men, made in the image of God; for which reason you are worthy of being hanged as a thief and a murderer. All men cry out against you, dogs pursue you, and all the inhabitants of this city are your enemies.”

Saint Francis promised the wolf that if he did no more harm to the town, the inhabitants of Gubbio would forgive his past sins, would not persecute him anymore, and would feed him every day so that he would never go hungry. In agreement, the wolf offered its paw to Francis as a pledge not to do any more harm. From then on the wolf stopped attacking inhabitants of the town and their animals until its death two years later. Meanwhile the wolf went from house to house to feed itself without ever being disappointed.

The wolf making peace with Francis is a symbol of the saint’s mastery over his own will to have things “his way.”  After all, a wolf is not just ferocious, but devouring; it is powerful and wants to consume its prey.  By receiving its paw as a sign of peace, Francis shows that he has mastered this characteristically human passion. In this way, Francis exhibits the humility of Christ. Along with several other qualities he possessed similar to those of the Lord Jesus, Francis’ humility made him truly “a second…” or “a new Christ.”

Wednesday, October 4, 2023

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

(Nehemiah 2:1-8; Lucas 9:57-62)

Every Christian is called to be a “second Christ.” Perhaps no one has fit that character description more than St. Francis of Assisi.  As Christ left heaven to sojourn with humans, Francis gave up a life of comfort in his father’s house.  As Christ preached reconciliation and love throughout Israel, Francis preached Christ in Europe and into Asia.  As Christ had “nowhere to lay his head,” Francis embraced evangelical poverty with joy.

Like Christ as well, Francis’ openness to God was not always appreciated.  Some of his Franciscan brothers tried to mitigate his insistence on poverty.  But he did not compromise.  He knew that riches like power tend to corrupt the soul.  He also recognized that shared poverty buoyed by a hearty trust in God was itself a way to preach the gospel.

Francis is so lovable because he was so loving.  As we sometimes feel misunderstood and rejected, we should remember Francis and make every effort to love others. With diving grace to assist us, we will soon rise from feeling in the dumps.

Tuesday, October 4, 2022

 Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

(Galatians 1:13-24; Luke 10:38-42)

The immensity of the heavens and the intricacies of physical life often challenge belief in God.  To some God seems somehow insignificant besides these physical mysteries. It might be asked then whether the achievements of science to explore the universe and to investigate the beginnings of life have put in question the existence of God.

Not by a longshot comes the answer of a true person of faith.  The problem which hampers people is “anthropocentricity.”  Many think that humans are at the center of the universe eclipsing in importance all other reality.  God, however, is much greater than humans can imagine.  Sure, God has shown particular favor to humanity, but by no means does the wonder of creation end with the human race.

St. Francis of Assisi did not suffer from such myopia.  He recognized the grandeur of the universe as at least symmetrical with the magnificence of the human person.  He called the wind, the air, and fire as well as the sun “brother” to show their prominence.  He likewise addressed water and earth as “sister” and even “mother” to indicate their wonder.  We owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to God today for Francis, patron of ecology, of charity, and of Christmas.

Monday, October 4, 2021

 

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

(Jonah 1:1-2:1-2.11; Luke 10:25-37)

 Not long after his conversion St. Francis was riding on his horse. He came across an odor so foul that his horse reared back.  Francis looked for the source of the odor and saw a leper in the middle of the road.  He had always been repelled by lepers, but now he dismounted and went to the leper. The leper held out his hands, and Francis kissed them.  It was the sign of reverence people in the Middle Ages given to a bishop.  Francis saw something priestly in this leper.  Indeed, he saw him as another Christ.

In today’s gospel Jesus tells the familiar story of the good Samaritan.  Tradition as long identified this Samaritan with Christ who saved humanity from death.  Jesus would have identified the man beaten and left half-dead with himself.  What the Samaritan did for that poor man, he did for the Lord.

It sounds impossible, but we are to imitate Francis of Assisi just as he became “another Christ.”  Like Francis, we should have a special sensitivity to for the poor and suffering.  Like Francis, we should have a special love for Christ.

Friday, October 4, 2019

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

(Baruch 1:15-22; Luke 10:13-16)

One of the reasons that St. Francis of Assisi has been so popular through the centuries is that he is seen as a romantic.  It is said that Francis separated himself from his money-driven father by taking off his fine clothes in the public square.  Even more charming is the story of his taming a vicious wolf by appealing to the wolf’s reason.  He promised the wolf that if it would stop ravaging the town, the townspeople provide it every day.  The difficulty with stories like this second one is that they are not always accurate.

A recent biography by a hard-nosed historian dismisses a large amount of the legend surrounding Francis.  What he finds is a man like the rest of us groping to God in a troubled world.  But Francis, of course, reached his object without the pains of purgatory.  Perhaps it was a special devotion to Christ that gave him the critical edge.  Francis loved the Lord because Jesus truly impoverished himself many times over.  He became human and then died on the cross.  Then he has fed his disciples with his own body in the Eucharist.

We do well to imitate Francis of Assisi.  We need not go barefoot or eschew swatting flies.  But we should carefully contemplate the mystery that confronts us at Mass.  It is Jesus under the guise of bread and wine who calls us to humble ourselves so that we might strengthen others.

Thursday, October 4, 2018

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi

(Job 19:21-27; Luke 10:1-12)

In Luke’s gospel Jesus sends out two groups of disciples.  In the first commissioning Jesus sends the Twelve with power over demons and the ability to cure diseases.  They are to proclaim the Kingdom of God by using the powers that Jesus entrusted to them.  In the second – the one we hear about in today’s gospel – Jesus sends out a much larger number of disciples. (There are seventy or seventy two, depending on the manuscript tradition that is followed.)  Like in the first sending, Jesus tells them to heal the sick and to proclaim the kingdom but no mention is made of power over demonic spirits.

We should ask ourselves, why are there two commissionings in Luke and only one in Matthew and Mark?  And then, what is the difference, if any, between the two? Luke very well may have a universal mission in mind when he writes of Jesus’ second commissioning.  He is likely saying that the seventy (two) disciples represent most of Jesus’ followers.  They are to proclaim by word and deed the coming of the Kingdom of God.  In the more limited first sending Jesus commissions the Twelve who will become the first apostles with the power to confect the Eucharist.  Here they are given the power to forgive sins -- the sacramental equivalent of casting out demons.

Today we celebrate one of the greatest saints of the Church.  Francis of Assisi was known for his humility.  He did not think himself worthy of being a priest and even resisting being made a deacon!  Yet he found an order of preaching brothers to proclaim the Kingdom of God.  He inspires all of us to go out and tell others about Jesus Christ.  Like the seventy (two) are sent by Christ to proclaim the Kingdom, we are to tell others of the love of God in Jesus Christ.

Wednesday and Thursday, October 4-5, 2017

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious 

 

One of the reasons that St. Francis of Assisi has been so popular through the centuries is that he is seen as a romantic.  It is said that Francis separated himself from his money-driven father by taking off his fine clothes and giving them back to his appalled father in the public square.  Even more charming is the story of his taming a vicious wolf by appealing to the wolf’s reason: if the wolf would stop ravaging the town, the townspeople would feed it every day.  The difficulty with such stories is that they are not always accurate. 

 

A recent biography by a hard-nosed but still admiring historian dismisses a large amount of the legend surrounding Francis.  What he finds is a man like the rest of us groping to God through a troubled situation.  But Francis, of course, reached his object without the pains of purgatory.  Perhaps it was devotion to Christ that gave him the critical edge.  Francis loved the Lord because Jesus truly impoverishes himself not just in the incarnation and on the cross but in the Eucharist where he makes himself food for human edification. 

 

We do well to emulate Francis of Assisi.  We need not go barefoot or eschew swatting flies.  But we should carefully contemplate the mystery that confronts us at Mass.  It is Jesus under the guise of bread and wine who calls us to humble ourselves so that we might strengthen others. 

Thursday of the Twenty-sixth Week in Ordinary Time

 

 (Nehemiah 8:1-4a.5-6.7b-12; Luke 10:1-12)  

 

A few years ago the United States was enthralled by a freshly told story of Abraham Lincoln.  Stephen Spielberg’s Lincoln astounded the nation by the portrayal of the sixteenth president’s righteousness and integrity, his political acumen and his patriotism.  The movie no doubt invoked many tears as it showed the depth of sacrifice made by the country’s greatest statesman.  A very similar dynamic is at work in the first reading today. 

 

The scribe-priest Ezra stands up before the people to read Israel’s Law.  He is not reciting a code of rules but the history of the people’s salvation.  He reads of Abraham and Jacob, of Moses and Pharaoh.  But most of all, Ezra tells of God’s care for Israel.  He recounts how God gave Abraham and Sarah a child when the couple had lost hope of descendants.  And how He rescued the Israelites from servitude in Egypt and formed them into a community worthy of His name.  No wonder that the people want to cry! 

 

Christians can claim the story of the Patriarchs and the Exodus as their own, but we have an even greater love story to contemplate.  We speak of Jesus, God’s own son, who took on human form so that we might know God’s definitive will and be strengthened to do it.  We too weep at the boldness of God’s compassion on us and can never give Him enough thanks. 

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Memorial of Saint Athanasius, bishop and doctor of the Church

(Acts 7:51-8:1a; John 6:30-35)

When St. Francis of Assisi heard that some of his friars were enticing Muslims into killing them, he put a stop to the practice.  He insisted that the missionary norms of his order prohibit both using arms to force conversions and taunting Muslims to martyr missionaries.  One wonders if Stephen in today’s first reading should not have been prudent in this way.

Stephen is a Greek-speaking Jew.  He comes from the Diaspora with little stake in the Jerusalem temple.  His diatribe against it perhaps reflects the sentiment of his background.  More than that, Stephen is a fervent convert to Christ.  He no doubt harbors resentment for the people of Jerusalem for having executed Jesus.  His outburst deserves some response, but certainly stoning is uncalled for.

Stephen’s story presents us with a few lessons.  First, we want to imitate his zeal to tell others about Christ who is our comforter and helper.  Second, we want to avoid Stephen’s harshness.  More people will be drawn to Christ by reflecting his peace than by exhibiting Stephen’s fury.  Finally, and perhaps most importantly, like Stephen imitating Jesus, we want to forgive those who have offended us.  We should begin now so that we do not forget to do so at death.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

(Galatians 1:13-24; Luke 10:38-42)

The lives of Saints Paul and Francis exhibit a remarkable similarity.  Both icons of the Church experienced profound religious conversion.  As a young man, Francis was a soldier of fortune.  He fought as a soldier and lived a profligate lifestyle.  Then he encountered Christ who changed his ways.  Imitating his new found Lord, Francis divested himself of worldliness.  His new disposition attracted many followers to his side.

Paul relates part of his conversion in today’s first reading.  As a zealous Jew, he persecuted the Church mercilessly.  Then he met the one whom he found most objectionable, and his life also radically changed.  Evidently Paul contemplated what happened in his encounter with Christ for years.  Aware of a call to preach the gospel, Paul prepared himself carefully before beginning a mission.

It is likely that all of us have experienced a calling by Christ.  We probably did not see him or hear him as a distinct voice.  Perhaps Christ made himself felt through the poor who rely completely on him or through the Church, his body.  Nevertheless, he has touched us with a sense of purpose.  We too have been converted.  We now live as his disciples imitating his goodness and handing on his love.

Friday, October 4, 2013

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

(Baruch 1:15-22; Luke 10:13-16)

One of the reasons that St. Francis of Assisi has been so popular through the centuries is that he is seen as a romantic.  It is said that Francis separated himself from his money-driven father by taking off his fine clothes and giving them back to his appalled father in the public square.  Even more charming is the story of his taming a vicious wolf by appealing to the wolf’s reason: if the wolf would stop ravaging the town, the townspeople would feed it every day.  The difficulty with such stories is that they are not always accurate.

A recent biography by a hard-nosed but still admiring historian dismisses a large amount of the legend surrounding Francis.  What he finds is a man like the rest of us groping to God through a troubled situation.  But Francis, of course, reached his object without the pains of purgatory.  Perhaps it was devotion to Christ that gave him the critical edge.  Francis loved the Lord because Jesus truly impoverishes himself not just in the incarnation and on the cross but in the Eucharist where he makes himself food for human edification.

We do well to emulate Francis of Assisi.  We need not go barefoot or eschew swatting flies.  But we should carefully contemplate the mystery that confronts us at Mass.  It is Jesus under the guise of bread and wine who calls us to humble ourselves so that we might strengthen others.

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

(Jonah 3:1-10; Luke 10:38-42)

In 1219 Francis of Assisi went to Egypt on a missionary journey. When by a stroke of luck he was able to meet Sultan Malik al-Kamil, the two tried to convert each other. Kamil challenged Francis to walk across the image of a cross woven into a carpet thus committing apostasy. Francis did so but reminded the sultan that there were three crosses on Calvary and he had trod on the cross of the bad thief. Then Francis offered to walk across burning coals if the sultan would convert to Christianity. The sultan demurred saying that if he would forsake Islam, both he and Francis would be executed.

Francis may not have converted the sultan, but his experience did change the heart of his own order. When his friars established the norms for missionary activity among Muslims, Francis insisted that they prohibit any attempt to use weapons as a means of conversion. Nor were they to taunt Muslims into making martyrs of them. The same “conversion of ourselves” is at work in the Book of Jonah. The story of a mass conversion in Nineveh is apocryphal, but the purpose of the book is to move Jews to a conversion of heart. They are to note the attentiveness of the pagan Ninevites to the word of God and to respond with similar thoroughness.

Franciscan friars at their best still call us to renewed conversion. Walking in their habits, attending to the needs of the poor, bringing goodwill to all, Franciscans call us out of the narrow concerns into which even pious people may wander. They urge us, as did their great founder, to compassion, simplicity, and holiness.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Memorial of Saint Francis of Assisi, religious

(Galatians 1:6-12; Luke 10:25-37)

Because of St. Francis’ love of the poor, his embracing poverty, and his unfailing effort to bring about reconciliation, he has been called “another Christ.” We too see in him a reflection of Jesus who lived hundreds of years before. We should similarly find a likeness of Christ in the Good Samaritan.

We are used to thinking of the Samaritan as a person like ourselves who should overcome prejudice to love everyone. An older interpretation of this parable, however, identifies us with the victim lying in the road. In this reading we have been brutalized by sin and left for dead in our folly. Then, the analysis continues, Jesus out of compassion comes to save us from damnation.

Our response to Christ for his generosity is to heed the commandment he gives to the scholar of the law inquiring about the requisites of eternal life. In going and doing like the Good Samaritan we imitate Christ. St. Francis serves as a worthy model in this endeavor. After his conversion from youthful swagger, Francis dedicated himself to preaching salvation by deed even more than by word.

Homilette for Thursday, November 4, 2007

Memorial of St. Francis Assisi

(Matthew 11:25-30)

In 1219 Francis of Assisi joined the Fifth Crusade. He traveled to Egypt where the Christian army was preparing to attack the Muslim forces. But Francis did not join the battle. His intention was to convert the Muslims to Christ. After the Christian armies suffered an embarrassing defeat at the hands of Malik al-Kamil, the Sultan of Egypt, Francis seized his opportunity. He sauntered over to the Muslim camp asking to see the Sultan. Evidently, Malik took Francis as a deserter who wanted to convert to Islam and granted him an audience.

The Sultan challenged the friar to walk on the image of a cross woven into a carpet. In some circles this was considered a desecration of Christianity’s most sacred image. Francis, however, did not possess a scrupulous conscience. He walked on the cross reminding the Sultan that there were two other crosses raised on Golgotha and he was only trampling the cross of the “bad thief.” Then Francis challenged the Sultan. If he walked over burning coals unharmed, the Sultan and his people would have to convert to Christianity. At this the Sultan demurred saying that if he converted to Christianity, both he and Francis would be massacred.

The encounter with the Sultan evidently had an effect on Francis. When his friars established the norms for missionary activity among Muslims, Francis insisted that they prohibit any attempt to use weapons as a means of conversion. Nor were they to taunt Muslims into making martyrs of them. Rather, either they were to subject themselves to their adversaries as a model of Christ’s forbearance or they were to proclaim the gospel openly but without any demonstration of force.

We should understand that when we look at St. Francis of Assisi, we see an image of Christ, the image of God. Because he took Jesus literally -- shouldering Jesus’ yoke and learning from him, the people of his age recognized him as a “new Christ.” Christ himself seems to have confirmed this likeness by transferring to him the wounds of his crucifixion. In the gospel today Jesus also says, “I am gentle and humble of heart.” He will not attack others but recognizes the dignity of all human beings. So Francis did not promote battling Christianity’s enemies but dialoguing with them so that they might see the virtues of Christ.