Friday of the Twenty-Ninth Week in Ordinary Time

A dry creek in time of drought

I, a prisoner for the Lord,
urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received,
with all humility and gentleness, with patience,
bearing with one another through love,
striving to preserve the unity of the spirit
through the bond of peace; 

The poet John Milton, in his poem about his blindness, wrote: They also serve who only stand and wait.

He used an image familiar to 18^th century England, the courtier who stands in the King’s presence waiting to be called. If he does nothing all day but wait upon his lord's command, he has served well.

I’m sure many a young courtier complained of doing nothing the whole day. He never had the chance to prove his ability or worth; his name was never sounded in the ears of the court; he felt like a polished arrow hid in an archer’s quiver.

Saint Paul was an intensely active man. He moved from city to town to village, traveling by land and sea, talking with Jews and gentiles, friends and strangers he must have found his incarcerations hard to bear. He didn’t set out in the service of Jesus to molder in a filthy jail cell.

Yet there he was, passing the time writing letters and counting the hours till his release. Yet, there he was, a prisoner for the Lord, urging us to live with all humility and patience.  

The older I get the more I appreciate the practice of patience. It is, like most virtues, a deliberate decision. When I think I should do this or I might do that, I decide it’s best to wait. That’s not doing nothing. It’s practicing faith in the Holy Spirit who knows when the time is right to do something and might tell me what to do when the time comes, provided that I am the one who should do it.

I often see things that should be done; but I am not the one to do them. I know things that should be said, but I am not the one to say them.

In the italian town of Spoleto. the young man Francis of Assisi heard the Lord challenge him, “Why do you serve the servant and not the master?”

He replied, “Lord, what should I do?”

And the Lord replied, “Go back to your own land to do what the Lord will tell you.”  

Francis didn’t sit around idle. He repaired ruined churches and avoided his angry family. He hid in an old cave and prayed to know God's will. But mostly he waited. He spoke to no one of his vision because, as of yet, he had none. 

At last one day, during the Mass he heard something in Latin that sounded like the voice in Spoleto. Asking the priest to translate he heard “that Christ’s disciples should not possess gold or silver or money, or carry on their journey a wallet or a sack, nor bread nor a staff, nor to have shoes nor two tunics, but that they should preach the kingdom of God and penance.” (Thomas of Celano, First Life of Francis)

Hearing that, Francis cried, “This is what I want! This is what I seek! This is what I desire with all my heart!” Soon after that people started to ask him about his vision. 

Saint Francis of Assisi lived with all humility and gentleness, with patience in the spirit of Jesus. He wanted to accomplish nothing but that which God wanted and because he waited, he did just that.