St. Francis of Assisi, before the crucifix
in the Church of San Damiano
(14th Sunday in Ordinary Time-Year C; This homily was given on 6 July at St. Joseph Church in Pascoag, R.I. See Galatians 6:14-18 and Luke 10: 1-20)
The Opening Prayer for the Mass (referred
to as the Collect, for it "collects" or gathers together the
people of faith for the Eucharistic banquet) is offered by the priest as a
means "through which the character of the celebration finds
expression" (General Instruction of
the Roman Missal, #54). In other
words, what we pray at the beginning of Mass is not arbitrary. It essentially sets the tone for the
celebration we are entering.
The Collect for the
Mass this weekend, the Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time,
addresses God and gathers the Church in a deeply theological and personal way:
O God, who in the abasement of your Son
have raised up a fallen world,
fill your faithful with holy joy,
for on those you have rescued from slavery to sin
you bestow eternal gladness.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, for ever and ever.
This prayer is a
beautiful expression of the mystery of our salvation and the call we have
received to eternal union with God.
Through the humility of God who, in the person of Christ has taken on
our humanity, we have been raised up to eternal life. Because Christ was willing to humble himself
even to the point of His cruel death on the cross, we have been exalted to the
heights of heaven with Him.
It is not the case
that everyone quite naturally goes to heaven at the end of this earthly life. We do not believe that those who have lived
"decent" lives and have avoided most of the "notorious"
sins have now deserved to dwell in a heaven of their choosing. In fact, no one goes to heaven and no one
enters eternal life except through the abasement and self-sacrificial love of
Jesus Christ, God's eternally begotten Son (see John 14:6). That is the
glory of God and the greatest expression of mercy the world has ever
experienced. We, who have been "rescued from slavery to sin," have
now been given "eternal gladness,"
a share in God's own Divine nature (2
Peter 1:4) which we could never have merited on our own. This is the work of God, and how glorious
that He—through the proclamation of the Gospel—allows us a share and a
participation in that magnificent and life-giving work!
Christ this weekend
sends out seventy-two disciples to announce the Gospel message and to proclaim,
"The Kingdom of God is at hand for
you" (Luke 10: 9). The men and women who are able to accomplish
that work most effectively and most powerfully down through the centuries, of
course, are the saints. But their
ability to change the world around them is a direct consequence of their
willingness to surrender their lives to the power of the Holy Spirit in God's
plan of salvation. God, who in the
abasement of His Son has raised up a fallen world, continues to do so though
the self-surrender of the saints. It is
not our gifts and efforts that bring about the salvation of the world. No, it was,
is and always will be the Gift and the supreme self-sacrifice of God
Almighty. The saints are the ones that
remind us of that in every age.
This weekend I would
like to focus on one of the greatest saints who ever lived: St. Francis of
Assisi. A few short months ago the
Cardinals of the Church elected Jorge Cardinal Bergolio to the See of Peter. He could have chosen any name he wanted. He chose to take the name of Francis. Understanding the life of St. Francis of
Assisi can perhaps help us understand why.
St. Francis was born
at the end of the 12th century during a very difficult and turbulent time for
the Church and the world. People today
are quick to use the word "crisis" when it comes to the Church;
whether it be parish closings or a shortage of vocations, they express the
situation as dire. In many instances
that estimation may be an accurate one.
Still, if we look at the Church beyond the borders of our own nation, in
many places of the world parishes and vocations are thriving. The word "crisis" does not want of
an easy or facile application.
Nonetheless, in the time of St. Francis the Church was in much worse
shape than some find it today. It was
not only the skeptics and the naysayers who lamented the Church's
predicament. God Himself expressed His
concern over its sorry state!
The story takes us
back to a small, abandoned and decrepit church in the foothills of Assisi
called San Damiano. A young Francis was
praying there, alone, amidst walls that were crumbling and a roof desperately
in need of repair. Suddenly from the
cross Jesus Christ spoke to him:
"Francis! Rebuild my Church, which as you can see is
falling down around you."
The simple Francis,
interpreting that voice of command quite literally, began to shore up the walls
and mend the roof of the Church of San
Damiano. But The Lord meant the whole
Church, the visible Body of Christ on earth!
Because St. Francis was so humble and holy, God was able to accomplish
that very thing in the course of time.
Through the abasement of the humble Francis, God was able to raise up a
fallen world and to bring about a genuine renewal in the Church which began in his lifetime and continued for centuries.
St. Francis would
come to be totally identified with Jesus Christ throughout his life and ministry. He was referred to as an alter Christus, another Christ, because of his humility and deep
love for God and man (not to mention more than a few animals).
In our Second
Reading for this weekend St. Paul is speaking about this mystery of identification
with Christ. His Apostolic ministry has
been called into question by much lesser would-be disciples, and St. Paul does
not hesitate to remind the Church of Galatia of all that he has suffered for
Christ and the work of the Gospel. He
says, in typical Pauline fashion:
From now on, let no one make
troubles for me; for I bear the marks of Jesus on my body.
—Galatians 6: 17
The Greek word for "marks" that St. Paul uses is stigmata. It means literally
the wounds of Christ. That word would
take on a whole new significance in the life of St. Francis of Assisi who,
towards the end of his life, received an experience in prayer in which the five
wounds of Christ were translated into his very body. Whenever you look at an image or statue of
St. Francis you will see the wounds of Christ in his hands, his feet and his
side. He was that closely identified with our Lord Jesus Christ!
How desperately the
Church today needs disciples of Christ who are willing to be identified more
completely with Him! Not, of course,
that we all need to receive the stigmata,
but that we are willing to share in Christ's abasement and humility
which allows the power of God to work in and through us to raise up our fallen
world. We lose nothing when we surrender ourselves to God in this way. It is God who cares for us and insures that
no sacrifice, no act of humility, no offer of surrender to Him for the sake of
His Church and the benefit of world will go unanswered or unrewarded.
The seventy-two disciples
in our Gospel this weekend return from their mission overwhelmed with joy and a
sense of accomplishment. They rejoice
with Christ, saying "Lord, even the demons
are subject to us because of your name" (Luke 10: 17). Jesus
rejoices along with them: "I saw
Satan fall like lightening from the sky" (Luke 10:18). The Devil's
destructive reign is drawing definitively to a close. There is indeed cause for rejoicing
here! Nonetheless, Christ appropriately
focuses these disciples on the most important outcome of their missionary
journey:
Do not rejoice because the spirits are subject to you, but
rejoice because your names are written in heaven.
—Luke 10:20
Satan and the demons
have been cast out of heaven forever, but God, in His just providence and
merciful love, has now replaced these fallen ones, writing the names of Christ's humble disciples permanently in heaven in their places.
In the upper level
of the Basilica of St. Francis in the
City of Assisi there is a painting by Giotto of a vision one of the friars had
while St. Francis was still alive. In that vision the friar saw numerous
thrones set up in heaven. Some were larger and more ornate than others, but one
of them stood out among them all. A voice then said to that friar:
“This throne belonged to
one of the angels cast out of paradise; now it is reserved for the humble
Francis.”
How is God
challenging us this week to walk in the footsteps of the humble St.
Francis of Assisi? How are we called to be more
fully identified with Jesus Christ, whose abasement and humble service to the
Divine will of His Father raised up our fallen world?
Perhaps if we are
willing to surrender ourselves to His glorious work more and more completely in
our own lives we may also come to discover that God has reserved a place in
heaven for us among the saints.
