Franciscan Feast of the Stigmata of Saint Francis

Readings for the Franciscan Feast of the Stigmata of Saint Francis

Then he said to all, “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. 


On this fourth day after the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, Franciscans throughout the world celebrate the stigmata of Saint Francis. 
I need to mention briefly that the medieval world had as much or more experience as we have, of religious nonsense. Church authorities, whatever their shortcomings, could recognize a hoax. Saint Francis's wounds, which were seen only after he died, were well attested by intelligent, skeptical prelates. 
These painful wounds may have been a divine compensation to the saint who had sought martyrdom in Egypt and been denied. More importantly, they were seen as an apocalyptic sign. Never had such a phenomenon appeared before. Franciscans, if not the whole Church, saw them as a signal for a new, deeper reflection on the suffering and death of Jesus. 
From that time onward crosses were changed to crucifixes; they carried the image of the suffering or dead Savior. If before they were adorned with precious gems, they now sparkled with his more precious wounds. If people had seen ease, comfort and luxury as signs of blessedness, they should know God prefers toil, distress and destitution. Jesus should not be seen wearing the raiment of kings but the rags of poverty. He would not be found among the wealthy and influential, his place is with the despised and oppressed. 
Almost eight hundred years later, we still try to wrap our heads around this unexpected sign. When Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio took the throne name Pope Francis, he reminded the Church that we have yet to understand the message of the stigmata. Too many of our customs and institutions simply maintain the normal; they don't normally extend themselves to welcome refugees or visit the imprisoned. Priests desperately shore up failing institutions. They try to accommodate the changing expectations of the world around us, which thinks it knows something about justice and mercy. 
The stigmata teach us to expect grief, disappointment, and rejection. There will be blowback and personal anxiety when we make difficult moral choices. If the local bishop makes a public statement, his Catholic faithful can expect snide remarks at the office. Their loyalty will be tested. 
These trials are difficult. Without daily prayer and frequent reflection on Jesus Crucified, they will be unbearable. I often meet Veterans in my ministry as hospital chaplain, who have quit attending Mass because a bishop made a difficult decision and was denounced by the chattering classes. It's easy to decide what is right and wrong when your opinion doesn't matter. Nor does it take courage to quit attending Mass after your friends and family quit a long time ago. 
Oddly, Saint Francis found "success" in his ministry. Thousands of men and women accepted his teaching; civil and ecclesial dignitaries begged for his company. The Spirit taught him to respect them, but to distrust their admiration. Blind with a painful aversion to bright light, he pursued his love of God in dark solitude, showing the wounds to no one. Only one or two friars, his personal nurses, knew of them, not even Saint Clare. 
He welcomed the persistent pain of these mysterious token as a sharing in the suffering of Christ.