Clare recalled these new beginnings in later years. That she and her sisters had survived the painful trials of the foundation was not nearly as surprising to her as it was to Francis. “When the blessed Francis saw, however, that although we were physically weak and frail, we did not shirk deprivation, poverty, hard work, trial or the shame or contempt of the world—rather we considered them as great delights, as he had frequently examined us according to the example of the saints and his brothers—he greatly rejoiced in the Lord” (Testament, 27-29). Taking each word of this recollection on its merits, we must imagine that the early years of life in San Damiano were a continual struggle at levels material, social, and spiritual.
“ O almighty and merciful God, Lord of the universe and of history. All that You have created is good and your compassion for the mistakes of mankind knows no limits. We come to You today to ask You to keep in peace the world and its people, to keep far away from it the devastating wave of terrorism, to restore friendship and instill in the hearts of your creatures the gift of trust and of readiness to forgive.”—Pope Francis
Pope Francis never hesitates to turn the light of truth inward as well as outward. The Gospel, especially as John tells it, reminds us that Jesus suffered as much at the hands of those who shared his religious faith as he did at the hands of outsiders. Persecution happens because of misguided power, anger at perceived injustice, fear of those who are not like us, who don’t share our beliefs and sometimes even our opinions. What begins as a disagreement over ideas can be magnified and escalated into rejection, ostracism, violence, and even death. And it can—and does—happen among Catholics of different philosophies, between Catholics and other Christians, between Christians and those of other faiths. In today’s Gospel the Pharisees sneer at Nicodemus when they ask if he, too, is from Galilee, a rural region that the residents of Jerusalem considered backward and inferior. We do this even today. We think we know how people will behave based on what part of the country they’re from. We divide our own cities and towns into good areas and bad areas. We absorb the prejudices of lifelong citizens even when we’re new to an area. Often we wouldn’t think of going to another part of town because of what we think we know about it, often based only on what we hear from others. Spend some time today learning about another faith, another culture, another set of beliefs. Set aside as much as is humanly possible the division of us and them, me and other. Look at the world from someone else’s perspective.
The Story ofSaint Louise de Marillac (August 12, 1591 – March 15, 1660)
Born near Meux, France, Louise lost her mother when she was still a child, her beloved father when she was but 15. Her desire to become a nun was discouraged by her confessor, and a marriage was arranged. One son was born of this union. But Louise soon found herself nursing her beloved husband through a long illness that finally led to his death.
Louise was fortunate to have a wise and sympathetic counselor, Francis de Sales, and then his friend, the bishop of Belley, France. Both of these men were available to her only periodically. But from an interior illumination she understood that she was to undertake a great work under the guidance of another person she had not yet met. This was the holy priest Monsieur Vincent, later to be known as Saint Vincent de Paul.
At first, he was reluctant to be her confessor, busy as he was with his “Confraternities of Charity.” Members were aristocratic ladies of charity who were helping him nurse the poor and look after neglected children, a real need of the day. But the ladies were busy with many of their own concerns and duties. His work needed many more helpers, especially ones who were peasants themselves and therefore, close to the poor and able to win their hearts. He also needed someone who could teach them and organize them.
Only over a long period of time, as Vincent de Paul became more acquainted with Louise, did he come to realize that she was the answer to his prayers. She was intelligent, self-effacing, and had physical strength and endurance that belied her continuing feeble health. The missions he sent her on eventually led to four simple young women joining her. Her rented home in Paris became the training center for those accepted for the service of the sick and poor. Growth was rapid and soon there was the need for a so-called “rule of life,” which Louise herself, under the guidance of Vincent, drew up for the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul.
Monsieur Vincent had always been slow and prudent in his dealings with Louise and the new group. He said that he had never had any idea of starting a new community, that it was God who did everything. “Your convent,” he said, “will be the house of the sick; your cell, a hired room; your chapel, the parish church; your cloister, the streets of the city or the wards of the hospital.” Their dress was to be that of the peasant women. It was not until years later that Vincent de Paul would finally permit four of the women to take annual vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. It was still more years before the company would be formally approved by Rome and placed under the direction of Vincent’s own congregation of priests.
Many of the young women were illiterate. Still it was with reluctance that the new community undertook the care of neglected children. Louise was busy helping wherever needed despite her poor health. She traveled throughout France, establishing her community members in hospitals, orphanages and other institutions. At her death on March 15, 1660, the congregation had more than 40 houses in France. Six months later Vincent de Paul followed her in death.
Louise de Marillac was canonized in 1934 and declared patroness of social workers in 1960.
Reflection
In Louise’s day, serving the needs of the poor was usually a luxury only fine ladies could afford. Her mentor, Saint Vincent de Paul, wisely realized that women of peasant stock could reach poor people more effectively, and the Daughters of Charity were born under her leadership. Today, that order—along with the Sisters of Charity—continues to nurse the sick and aging and provide refuge for orphans. Many of its members are social workers toiling under Louise’s patronage. The rest of us must share her concern for the disadvantaged.
God calls us to mystical activism, a deep-rooted spirituality inspired by our encounters with God and commitment to our spiritual practices, to bring beauty and healing to the world. Walking in the footsteps of Francis and Clare, we are called to be mystics of the here and now, not some distant age. When we look in the mirror, we may exclaim in disbelief, “Me, a saint? Are you kidding?” Within the concrete limitations of life, our gifts are lived out and expand as we devote ourselves to prayerful activism. Still we ask, recognizing our fallibility and limitations: Am I to be a saint or a mystic? Who am I with my temptations and fallibilities, impatience and intolerance, to be in God’s presence and claim my role as God’s companion in healing the earth? What can I do? The challenges are so great, and I am so small!
How do we pass on the message of Christ? How do we bring Christ to people? Well, the answer is rather simple. It really is. You don’t need to learn anything new. You don’t have to sign up for a course. It doesn’t cost anything. You just tell people the good news – not your good news, but His. Saint Francis of Assisi said “Preach the gospel at all times and, if necessary, use words.” Preach the gospel, whether in season or out of season, convenient or inconvenient, and use words if necessary. If it’s necessary to use words, what words do we use? We use the words of Christ. We talk as He talked, and use the same words He used. So, what were the words He used? We have them, and they provide an air of authority, because they are true. They are the very Word of God.
The only time Jesus was angry or rebuked someone was when He was dealing with Satan. He didn’t run up and down aisles screaming and shouting. He didn’t do that. He never raised His voice. His sermons were not very long, and He didn’t use props except for children so that He could shame the apostles. The Sermon on the Mount is one of the greatest sermons ever given. Jesus went up on the mountain, sat down, and delivered an eight sentence sermon about the Beatitudes to over 5,000 people. His words carried and everyone heard Him. He didn’t speak long, but He spoke with words that everyone heard. On another occasion, our good Lord went out onto a lake in a boat and preached to a crowd gathered on the shore. That’s very difficult to do when you’re on the water. But, everyone heard Him.
In Acts, Peter preached at Pentecost to the Jews gathered in Jerusalem for the feast. Every heart heard him, even though the people there were from different countries and spoke different languages. Peter didn’t run up and down the aisles. That’s not preaching – that’s a performance. Preach as Jesus did. Paul thought he had a better idea when he went to Athens. He decided to jazz up the message and make it really hip. He changed the sermon to make it more meaningful. I love that word – meaningful – almost as much as I love the word “tasteful.” Well, everything has a taste. For example, horse manure has taste…you won’t like it, but it has taste. Oh, this is very tasty. That doesn’t mean it’s good or bad. Paul tried to develop a relationship by getting down on the same level as the Athenians. Instead of raising them up, he went down and taught on their level and in their language. What happened? He got only two disciples. When he left there, he did an after-action report and had one of those V-8 moments. I will only preach Christ and Him Crucified. And, then look what happened. He preached the way Christ preached…by actions and by words. The words he used were Christ’s words. We should not use our words or the words that we think Christ would say. “But, God is telling me to do this.” You need some medicine. Preach like Christ did. That’s what He told us to do. It doesn’t have to be long, and it doesn’t have to be loud. Christ sat and taught. He didn’t use props. Also, people were not fed their way to Jesus. “Give them pizza, and they will come.” Yeah…they eat the free pizza, and then they leave. We had a food ministry in the military called Bible study lunch. I went to one, because I wanted the free pizza. The soldiers ate the free pizza, and then they left. There was nothing the chaplains could do about it. Those were the rules, and the soldiers knew that. They weren’t stupid. They may have been paratroopers, but they weren’t stupid.
Teach as Jesus taught by using His exact words. Those words give us the authority, not for us, but so that every heart hears the words it was meant to hear. Now, in case someone is thinking, “Well, your life is not perfect.” Oh, heck no. My life is not perfect at all. The words are not my words. I’m just a conduit. I’m just passing along what our good Lord said. The focus must be on the message and not the messenger. I am trying to live like our good Lord said, and I’m having problems with that, so if you would pray for me, I’d really appreciate it. People are surprised when we don’t defend ourselves by saying something like, “Oh, I’m a great Christian.”
How do we tell people about Jesus? Do as Jesus did. Preach as Jesus preached. Use words if necessary.
How will you apply this message to your life? Will you tell others about the good news of Jesus Christ? Will you do as He did and preach as He preached?
Father’s Afterthoughts…
Last night, I had to smile while reading the Old Testament. All I could think of was that God is Italian. You know why? He put out a contract for a hit on all the false prophets. Wow! He means business.
I was at the hospital on Friday. You should see the working conditions I work under…it’s not just the smells and everything else. Anyway, I came out of a room and said something to the nurse who said, “You know, Father, you should have gone to medical school.” I said, “Really? How…as a student or cadaver?” Fair question.
You can read all of Father Fitzgibbons’ sermons by going to https://annunciationcatholicalbemarle.com/ and clicking on “Blog” then “Categories” and then “Sermon Notes. From a cell phone, click on “Blog” then “Menu” and then “Categories.”
Death can plunge us into despair. Confrontation with our mortality can also, as Francis reminds us, awaken us to the beauty and wonder of God’s creation and presence in our lives. Recognizing our mortality inspires us to experience our solidarity with suffering humanity. We are, as a plaque once erected on a Paris hospital noted, “the dying taking care of the dying.” Francis would have recognized that within the tragedy of the COVID-19 virus is the challenge to all people and nations to realize our interdependence and recognize the illusion of ethnic, national, or economic separation. As Jesus asserted, the sun shines and the rain falls on the righteous and unrighteous—and the wealthy and poor—alike (see Matthew 5:45). Francis recognized the dangers of privilege and out of his own experience of conversion from privilege to prayer counseled his companions to go beyond class and status, emphasizing humility as the pathway of human heartedness and empathy.
No doubt, despite his personal generosity, Francis of Assisi, like many in our society, took his privilege for granted as God-given. Only later did Francis let go of his social and economic privilege so he could live in solidarity with all creation—rich and poor, human and nonhuman. I have come to recognize that privilege can insulate as well as isolate. Despite our relative wealth and comfort, the realities of privilege can spiritually harm both the privileged and the marginalized, whose poverty is often the shadow side of our abundance. We who are privileged can gain the world and lose our souls. Our sense of entitlement and alienation from those who struggle contracts our spirits and renders us oblivious to the voice of God speaking through our human and nonhuman neighbors. We fail to realize that many of our greatest achievements are the result of advantages we neither deserved or earned just as many persons’ poverty and failure come are the result of factors beyond their control. Initiative and hard work matter, but achievement is shaped by what we’ve been given, not just what we’ve earned. Tragically, the poverty of others is often connected to our own economic wellbeing.
As I pilgrimed through Assisi that morning, the town began to waken. Street cleaners and sanitation workers began their day. Innkeepers opened their doors and parents sent their children off to school. As the silent morning morphed into a busy day in which other pilgrims and tourists would soon fill the streets, I remembered the greeting that characterized Francis’s encounters, “May God give you peace” as I quietly blessed each recently awakened passerby. And so, as we embark with Francis on our daily pilgrimages in mystical activism, I pray, “May God give you peace” on the path you travel, and may your adventures be plentiful as you bring peace and healing to this good earth. Francis encouraged his companions to greet everyone with “May God give you peace.” Let that blessing fill your day. Whether spoken or silent, bless everyone you meet. Pray that every encounter brings peace and healing to the world. Experience your kinship with all creation, blessing the human and nonhuman world, including those you are tempted to curse. A life of blessing joins us with all creation and enables us to claim our vocation as God’s beloved companions one moment at a time.
“Furthermore, let us produce worthy fruits of penance. Let us also love our neighbors as ourselves. Let us have charity and humility. Let us give alms because these cleanse our souls from the stains of sin. Men lose all the material things they leave behind them in this world, but they carry with them the reward of their charity and the alms they give. For these they will receive from the Lord the reward and recompense they deserve. We must not be wise and prudent according to the flesh. Rather we must be simple, humble and pure. We should never desire to be over others. Instead, we ought to be servants who are submissive to every human being for God’s sake. The Spirit of the Lord will rest on all who live in this way and persevere in it to the end. He will permanently dwell in them. They will be the Father’s children who do his work. They are the spouses, brothers and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ.”— St. Francis of Assisi, p. 333
