St Francis of Assisi

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.

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.

Although it is highly unlikely that St. Francis actually wrote the prayer that is attributed to him, it is generally accepted as an embodiment of his beliefs of poverty and obedience. (Whereas St. Francis was born in Assisi in 1182, this prayer can be traced only to 1912.)

As a Catholic and as a recent visitor to the town of Assisi in Italy (well, OK, it was 15 months ago -- is that recent enough?), I was intrigued when my friend loaned me On the Road with Francis of Assisi. The travelogue recounts most of the known events from Francis's life, starting with his years as a privileged youth; his renunciation of wealth and a wild lifestyle; his new devotion to God in his early twenties, and his accompanying vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; his founding of what is now the Franciscan movement; and the evolution of his followers, from the first devotees during his lifetime to the thousands worldwide today.

Linda Francke wrote the book with a historical slant, rather than a religious one. Readers who are not particularly religious, but would like to learn more about the life of this prominent figure in Catholic history, may find this book an enjoyable read. I count myself among them.

Having traveled to Assisi, albeit during a short day trip from the residence in nearby Todi, Umbria, where we were staying, I particularly enjoyed Linda Francke's descriptions of all the towns she visited, including Assisi of course, while retracing St. Francis's steps. The photo at the top of this page is a view of the Basilica de San Francesco, which we happened to visit during the busiest time of year: the Feast of St. Francis, when thousands of pilgrims make the 13-mile peace (Pace) walk from Perugia to Assisi. (In the background of the photo to the left, you can see the lines of people waiting to enter the Lower Church.)

In the book, Linda Francke also describes in some detail the life of St. Clare, Francis's friend and follower for whom Francis created the Order of the Poor Clares. As was the case with the Basilica of St. Francis, the Basilica of St. Clare (the plain but beautiful pink-and-white striped building in the photo to the right) was not built until after her death. Therefore, though both Francis and Clare were born in Assisi and died near there, they never set foot in the basilicas that were built in their honor. In fact, given their vow of poverty -- extreme poverty -- it's likely that neither would even perceive the grandiose structures as an honor.

As interesting as the journey through St. Francis's life was to read, what I find more intriguing are the simliarities among various founders of religious movements. What they seem to have in common is charisma, drama, and timing. In Under the Banner of Heaven: A Story of Violent Faith, for example, Jon Krakauer chronicles the founding and evolution of Joseph Smith's Church of the Latter Day Saints (Mormonism), including its fracture into various sects, including the fundamentalist sect with its history of pluralism and violence. Certainly, there are many differences between St. Francis and Joseph Smith. Yet some similarities cannot be denied: They both founded religions based on their interpretation of "God's message." They both possessed charismatic personalities -- that combination of charm, wit, intuition, and intelligence that draws people to them. They both tended toward the dramatic. They both had the advantage of living in an era in which circumstances that could not be explained by the science, medicine, or logic of the time were attributed to faith-based miracles and directives from God. They both amassed great numbers of followers. But their founding religions also experienced inevitable fracture and dissent in later years.

So, do I believe a man named Francis Bernadone from the town of Assisi lived in the Middle Ages, grew up with all the advantages and luxuries of his day, repented his wild behavior, and became a good man of great faith in God and a desire for world peace? Yes. Linda Francke has researched the biographies of Francis written by his contemporaries and has followed in his footsteps all over Italy and beyond. Many facts of his existence, friendships, and events are undisputed. Do I believe in all the miracles attributed to him? Not so much. But it doesn't matter. 800 years ago, the people did believe in his miracles. People did follow him and turned to lives of peace. Thousands of followers even today perform many good deeds in his name. So miracle or not, the man made a difference in the lives of many.

And now that I've read about this man and all the hermitages he founded and all the cities he traveled to in his lifetime, I wish for one more chance to visit Assisi. This time, I'll spend less time in his basilica, where his remains reside, and more time visiting the places he frequented while living. The simple, small, plain places in which he can really be felt.