"And in the enclosure, where they live, they should not permit any person to enter.” The Rule for Hermitages, 7 “All the brothers, however, should preach by their deeds.” The Earlier Rule; chapter 17, 3 If you’ve turned on the news lately, you may be aware that the United States has a new President. If you paid attention, you may also be aware that there are some who are not pleased. On the other hand, you may have observed that there are others who are, on the contrary, quite satisfied. Oh, and the two groups are not happy with each other, either. Everywhere, it seems, there is chaos: the news and social media are filled with images of people attacking one another with vitriol and sometimes even fists. Unfortunately, these divisions have hit close to home: family members are pitted against one another; colleagues are giving or receiving the silent treatment; longtime friendships have ended. Even parishes and churches are split along partisan lines. To some, the new president is clearly anti-Christian whose positions on immigration, the dignity of the human person, the environment, and the vulnerable are incompatible with the Gospel imperative to aid those in need (see Matthew 25:35-36). To others, however, he is seen as a champion of religion -- a King Cyrus-like figure whose election was orchestrated by the hand of God to shore up Christian institutions and stamp out vices plaguing contemporary culture (see Ezra 1:1-11). In all this, what are we to do? How are we -- as committed Christians -- to live in today’s society? What does God want Christians to do? What about a “St. Francis Option”? I believe that the life and ministry of St. Francis of Assisi -- though he lived eight centuries ago -- can and still does suggest a relevant and timely way to approach our increasingly secularized contemporary world. First, as Scripture assures us that “there is nothing new under the sun” (Ecclesiastes 1:9), Francis’ era was no less wicked than our own. Thomas of Celano, Francis’ first biographer, described Assisi in the late 12th century in not-so-virtuous terms: “shameful and detestable; lust and wantonness; every kind of debauchery; wickedness; sin” (see First Life, chapter 1). If Thomas’ description is accurate, it seems that the high middle ages in Assisi were no golden age of Christian sanctified living. And Francis, before his conversion, was quite at home in such an environment. Full of pride and seeking to increase his social standing, Francis set out to become a noble knight. While overnighting in Spoleto on his way to fight in the Crusades, however, he heard a voice say to him, “Francis, who can do more for you, the Lord or his servant, a rich man or a beggar?” When Francis responded that the Lord could do more, he was told to go back to Assisi where he would be shown what to do (see Bonaventure, Major Legend, Chapter 1, 3). After Francis returned home he felt, like perhaps many of us today, the need to leave his native city and retreat from society. Francis, too, desired to separate himself from the vices and transgressions of his townspeople in order to heal and listen to what the Lord had to say to him. And so he did. Francis retreated with a companion to a cave on the outskirts of Assisi (see Thomas of Celano, First Life, chapter 3, 6). The sources do not specify where the grotto was. It may have been up on Mount Subasio in what is now a hermitage called the Carceri, or it could have been in a crypt underneath the ruined church of San Damiano. In any case, it was there -- in the solace in the hills outside the city of Assisi -- where Francis discovered his “great and precious treasure.” Some statues of Francis and two brothers in the Carceri hermitage.
11 Comments
The Holy House of Mary There is something special about the house we grew up in. I think about this from time to time, as I now live some 5,000 miles from my childhood home. I often feel nostalgia for that house on Appleseed Court in Peachtree City. Within those walls are countless memories, joys and sorrows: learning to crawl and walk; relationships with siblings and parents; childhood friends; beloved pets.
Here in Loreto -- where my family and I have been living since 2014 -- there is preserved underneath a magnificent basilica the childhood home of a different sort: the “Holy House of Mary.” What remains of Mary’s house is quite simple: just three walls of stacked stones. Yet, it is believed that within those walls Mary, the daughter of Anna and Joachim, grew up and received the Annunciation. What a mystery to consider the memories that are contained within! For this is the place where the angel, Gabriel, appeared and she responded with her Fiat, “Yes, may it be done to me according to your will; I will be the mother of the Lord, the Messiah” (Luke 1:38). The walls were originally affixed onto a grotto in Nazareth which can still be visited today within the Basilica of the Annunciation. Two years ago, Katia and I spent five days in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, but, unfortunately, did not make it up to Galilee. We did see photographs of the grotto, however. It was August 24 of last year, at 3:40 in the morning. I was sleeping soundly with Katia in our apartment in Loreto. Suddenly, I was awoken by a combination of strange sensations and noises: the bed was shaking; an abnormal, rumbling sound was coming from outside; car alarms were going off; neighbors were shrieking. While I lay there disoriented and confused, Katia, lying next to me, knew what was happening: “Terremoto!” she shouted. It was an earthquake! After the house shook aggressively for about ten to fifteen seconds, it started swaying for about the same amount of time. Finally, it stopped and everything became, once again, still. Eerily still. Katia and I went downstairs and immediately turned on our devices to get some news. The quake was so violent in Loreto, I was worried how bad it was at the epicenter. Our Italian friends were online, too, and were declaring themselves safe on social media. But then the news reports came in. It was bad. The first reports were that the magnitude was 6.2 and the epicenter was close to Perugia or Rieti-- about seventy miles from where we live. There was tremendous loss of life and property, they said. I worried about Assisi. It turned out that the affected areas were some mountain villages along the border of the Umbria, Lazio, Abruzzo and the Marches. The damage was catastrophic; some towns were razed to the ground. Initially, the death toll was just two. But then it climbed to six, then ten, then twenty. Eventually, it reached 299 people. Another 365 were injured, while approximately 2,100 lost their homes. It was a true tragedy. Amatrice after the August 24 quake
On pilgrimages, we often take groups to the Catacombs of San Callisto. As we drive along the ancient road, the Via Appia Antica, leading up to the entrance just outside the old city walls, there sits a nondescript little church. Its name is unusual as it is a question: “Domine, Quo Vadis?” -- Latin for “Lord, Where Are You Going?” According to an ancient legend, a vision took place on that very spot during the Christian persecutions. As Peter was the “rock” of the Church, he was particularly sought after by the praetorian guards of the notorious emperors, Caligula or Nero, who launched the persecutions. And, prone to fleeing and hiding in times of duress, he was hightailing it out of there.
As he was fleeing, however, he saw Jesus in a vision walking the opposite direction into Rome. Confused, Peter asked him: “Lord, where are you going?” Christ’s response: “I am going into Rome to be crucified a second time in your place.” Peter, devastated by his Messiah’s answer, stopped, turned around, and returned to Rome to meet his fate and martyrdom: crucifixion upside down on Vatican hill. In some ways, Peter’s question is similar to a different vision that took place some twelve centuries later, although this time it was the Lord who posed the question. A young Francis of Assisi was still seeking worldly honors and was on his way to fight in the crusades in hopes of becoming a knight and nobleman. However, while overnighting in Spoleto, he heard a voice speak to him in a dream: “Francis, who can do more for you, the Lord or his servant, a rich man or a beggar?” “The Lord, of course,” Francis responded. “Then, why are you serving the servant?” asked the Lord again. “Go back to your home and you will be shown what to do.” (See Bonaventure, Major Legend, Chapter 1, 3). God, in effect, was trying to help Francis change direction. God wanted Francis to understood who he was serving -- himself, his own will and desires, the expectations of his culture, the desires of his earthly father. Indeed, Francis awoke and -- like Peter -- promptly turned around and went back to Assisi to fulfill the will of God. He renounced his dream of knighthood and returned to Assisi a penitent. |
Bret ThomanCatholic. Franciscan. Married. Father. Pilgrim guide. Writer. Translator. Pilot. Aspiring sailor. Archives
January 2023
|