“Peace, brother.” The words hung in the air and floated a bit before flowing over my heart like warm water in a salon hair wash. The sensation was startling, unexpected. A lovely part of the Catholic Mass is a moment when congregants turn to one another and offer a sign of peace, normally a handshake or a wave. The firm handshake and warm greeting caught me by surprise in its deep sincerity. It felt like he really meant it.
Finishing a walk last night, I glimpsed my grandchildren playing in their yard. Big brother was running around the front yard, tossing the football to himself; lost in some imaginary game. His sister was walking out to join in. The three little ones were in the backyard, playing in a car we gave to the oldest nearly 9 years ago. I could hear their voices carrying across the yards – playful, energetic, lost in whatever imaginary universe they had created. Earlier in the day, I watched as little brother played with the baby during a CYO football game. Running at her and diving on the ground at her feet, she giggled with delight as he bounced up and repeated the move to the same effect. That is what it is to be childlike – lost in the joy of the moment, it is innocent abandon. Childlike simplicity.
Today, we celebrate the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi – this the 800th anniversary of his death in October of 1226. 1226 – the number seems unreal, impossible, as I type and watch it appear on my screen. Looking over at the buffet in our kitchen, I see a small statue of the Saint, presented in a very traditional fashion: holding a bird bath with some animals attending to him. Earlier this year, his remains were on display in Assisi as the entire Church venerated and celebrated this beloved saint.
As is so often the case with saints, Francis appeared in the life of the Catholic Church at a time when it needed renewal. I grew up with the the image of St. Francis as the free spirit who loved animals but that comfortable image of the man falls far short of the full story. His was a radical, all-in, love of the God he saw in all of Creation. In his Canticle of Brother Sun and Sister Moon, St. Francis praises God by celebrating His Creation: Brothers Wind and Air, Sister Water, Brother Fire, Mother Earth, plants, animals, and even Sister Death. St. Francis answered a call to rebuild God’s Church and he responded by living a radically simple Christianity which has inspired generations of Christians and non-Christians.
I added St. Francis to my bouquet of Saints because of his radical humility. An example I sorely need. But central to Francis’ life was a simple, childlike, joy. Joy in all things, even suffering. That is radical. What is a bouquet of Saints? Another wonderful Catholic tradition in which we adopt particular Saints who offer us specific examples of holy boldness and courageous virtue, then ask for their intercession: St. Francis pray for us!
Peace, brother. Brother Sun. Sister Moon. Brothers Wind and Air and Fire. My mind went to St. Francis who saw brotherhood, sisterhood, as the community of Creation – God in all things. Peace, brother. What a gift is peace. Francis found peace in radical humility, unreasonable faith, and audacious joy. As counter-cultural in his time as they are today. It is no accident that we are still referencing his example 800 years later.
Considering the brotherhood and sisterhood of my grandchildren, I can begin to tune-in to some of the essence of St. Francis. The simple, childlike acceptance of connection that was given as complete gift. It was not chosen and could not be created. What a powerful way to live. We belong to each other. St. Francis got this on an eternal level. Embracing all of Creation in a crazy, loving, humble, acceptance of that brotherhood and that sisterhood.
Pope Benedict XVI wrote of St. Francis as an example of living first in harmony with God which in turn yielded harmony with man and with nature. Simple. Childlike. Audacious. Radical. Brother Sun is rising and I hear Brother Rooster announcing the day, as Sister Moon retreats toward tomorrow. I feel I will never find St. Francis’ radical simplicity and humility or his childlike joy in the many gifts of his Creator; but I thank God for this Saint’s beautiful example of holy boldness and reminder of the joy hiding in the most obvious places.
Another WOW!! I am now caught up and awaiting your next insight.
Once in a while I like to describe an unusually memorable, profoundly likable, song or music composition as “the perfect combination of lyrics, music, and delivery or performance” in other words “Musical Perfection”. My first thought is that this particular blog meets that same criteria. I can’t help but think that, If St. Francis of Assisi were to be able to listen to this blog today, describing his unique view of and way of honoring God’s love and gift to mankind, I think he would find it unusually memorable and profoundly pleasing!
Dad