Memorial of Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, virgin

 Lectionary: 495

But now, Lady, I ask you, not as though I were writing a new commandment but the one we have had from the beginning: let us love one another.

The hearts of Franciscans throughout the world were thrilled when an Argentinian cardinal named Jorge Mario Bergoglio assumed the unprecedented name of "Pope Francis." We were delighted when his second encyclical (Laudato Si) invoked the Saint's Canticle of the Sun; and again pleased that he invokes the Poverello with his third encyclical, Fratelli Tutti. The words, "brothers all," recall the saint's attitude first toward his friars, and then people of every nation, and finally all living creatures. 

Brothers, of course, includes sisters. There have been complaints about that but fratelli tutti were the Saint's Italian words. The Holy Father, apparently, wanted to retain the dynamic presence of Saint Francis and his writings with these historic words, rather than use a less evocative expression like "siblings all." 

By his radical understanding and practice of poverty, Saint Francis became a brother to all creatures. The festidious young man who was nauseated even by the idea of leprosy, disowned his family's wealth and imitated the homeless destitution of Jesus. He would live like the birds of the air who neither sow nor reap and lay nothing aside for the morrow; who depend entirely on the Providence of God for their daily sustenance. Under the guiding hand of the Holy Spirit, one of his first acts was to live among lepers and care for them. 

If he was hungry it was God's will. If he was cold in the winter or hot in the summer sun, it was God's gift. Exposed to wind and rain, cold and heat, light and dark, this lightly dressed innocent experienced the immediacy of God's sustaining love. When someone fed him he knew the Lord had inspired that generosity. His prayerful gratitude and infectious joy were his only repayment. 

In that way of life -- as strange then as it is today -- Francis knew a kinship with every creature that must be described as fraternal -- fratelli tutti. Every woman and man, every boy and girl exists in this immediate moment by the gracious, benevolent will of God. Should the Lord take his eye off you or me, we would not exist. We would never have been! Every breath and every heartbeat is God's gift. Take a breath and think of that!

As he walked from one town to another, carrying no provisions and sustained only by the kindness of strangers, Francis could appreciate the need to stockpile the essentials of human life. A large city needs a storehouse of food, and reservoirs of water. But he also saw how individuals, families, and cities amass and hoard far more than they need. And, by doing so, impose poverty on their neighbors. He saw the injustice of it. 

The Saint also knew that love can overcome the impulse to hoard. I might pile up a mountain of this world's goods but when I meet a hungry, naked, homeless sister face to face, I must relent and let go of some of it. I must make provisions for her, and for him, and for them. 

Some will accuse the Holy Father of idealism. Which is to say, impractical and impossible. And so his principle seems until we experience the immediacy of God's Providence, and the immediate presence of needy sisters and brothers. Then it's not idealistic at all. 

The saints have often reminded us, "With love nothing is impossible; without love even the simplest chore is impossible." 

God never speaks to us of ideals. They do not appear in the Bible. Ideals exist only in certain human philosophical opinions; opinions which are used to prevent real action. 

In the face of mass immigration as the world has never seen, which is impelled by the anthropocene forces of war, disease, and climate change, Pope Francis invokes his singular moral authority to challenge the world. We must act pragmatically and immediately.