Franciscan Feast of the Portiuncula

Readings for the Portiuncula


Saint Anthony of Padua died in Padua but was born in LIsbon. He is known in Portugal as Saint Anthony of Lisbon. Saint Bridget of Sweden left her native home and died in Rome. The city of Santiago de Compostela in Spain, named after Saint James, claims the relics of the Apostle who was born at the other end of the Mediterranean Sea. The Blessed Mother, some people say, traveled with Saint John the Beloved Disciple and died in Ephesus.

But Saint Francis of Assisi was born, raised, came to maturity and sanctity, and died in Assisi. That golden hill town above the Umbrian Valley, built of yellow stones quarried from the same hilltop, is as much a part of his identity as Nazareth is for Jesus. True, he traveled throughout Italy and sailed (as a stowaway) to Egypt once, but he was rarely far from his native Assisi; and it was always his home.

When he sent his friars throughout the known world and eventually beyond the known world, he insisted their home should be Assisi. As Sister Death approached he asked his disciples to carry him back to the Portiuncula, just below Assisi, where his journey began. That small, humble chapel of the Blessed Mother, dedicated to "Saint Mary of the Angels", seemed so much like Jesus' home in Galilee, he could not die anywhere else.

If it is good to travel widely; it is also good to know the dirt beneath your feet, from which you were made.

Janet Davis has some fascinating insights about Sarah, Abraham's wife, in her blog. Buried in Machpelah near Mamre, she found her final resting place in the Promised Land. Centuries later she would be there to welcome her children out of Egypt and the wilderness.

In recent years a "spiritual geography" has emerged, a counter-balance to the universal spirituality of the world-wide Church. The scriptures insist that Jesus came from Nazareth, gentile territory far removed from the Jewish metropolis of Jerusalem. He spoke with a Galilean accent -- "Your speech gives you away!" the serving girl said to Peter. She might be only a serving girl, but he was a country hick. 

No doubt many in the Establishment despised Jesus for his accent alone. But he was a man of his region and of his time. He could not pretend to be something other than that. The scriptures insist he had to be born "at that time," in the fullness of time; and he could only come from Nazareth. 

I met a fellow several years ago who had buried his wife and, a few weeks later, rushed into the arms of another woman. He left his home, children, grandchildren, relatives, church, neighbors and friends to follow his new love to another small town. Predictably, he was not happy.

Nor was his new friend. She also came to talk with me and she echoed what I had said, "Go home." It was a sad affair for both of them; they could not break off their displaced passion, nor could they make a home for each other.

In the United States, it's said, "Everybody moves every five years." Many people feel like Cain, "banished from the ground... a constant wanderer on the earth."

But it's also true that most Americans live within 25 miles of where they were born. That home turf, with its climate, food and cultural ambiance calls us back. I heard one consultant say that anyone who is transferred with his family from one American city to another should be paid an additional $150,000. That much money might make it worth the sacrifice. (Personally, I doubt it.) 

In this 21st century, the Feast of the Portiuncula reminds of the earth where we were born, with its climate, food, accents, customs and unspoken understandings. "You can take the boy out of the country," people used to say, "but you can't take the country out of the boy." 

The Portiuncula reminds us also of the millions of people who have been uprooted by war, famine, economics and politics from their native place. They are searching like the children of Sarah for their promised land.

As we enter this third millennium let us pray that the Spirit of Assisi will call us home.