Franciscan Feast: Stigmata of Saint Francis of Assisi

Reading for Stigmata of Saint Francis

Peace and mercy be to all who follow this rule and to the Israel of God.

Franciscan friars and sisters read the "rules" of Saint Francis with as much intensity as we read the gospels. The friars look to the rules of 1221 and 1223; sisters, to the Rule of Saint Clare; and the Third Order, to the Rule of the Secular Franciscan Order. None of these documents are very long, and their guidance is more inspiring than specific about what we should or should not do. 

We also read them as we read the Bible, in the context of their time, specifically of thirteenth century Italy. We comb the legends of Saints Francis, Clare, and other significant Franciscan documents of that time. Much of the latter literature has become widely available only in the last fifty years. 

Should anyone suppose that our rules take precedence over the Bible, they have only to read their opening statements: "the form of life is... to observe the Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, by living in obedience, without anything of one's own, and in chastity." So when we hear Saint Paul blessing all "who follow this rule," we bless ourselves! 

Always we hold the cross of Jesus Christ before our eyes, contemplating its beauty and asking for its treasured graces. We remember that Saint Francis was inspired to rebuild the ruin of a chapel, and then to rebuild the Church, as he knelt before a crucifix. We remember how he wept copious tears when he thought of or spoke of the Crucified Lord. He said our habit is a cloth cross which we don each day. We remember also that Saint Clare had only one image in her entire convent, and that was the painted image which we call the San Damiano Crucifix, the very icon which had spoken to Saint Francis. 

Finally, we remember the stigmata of Saint Francis, the actual wounds that appeared on his hands, feet, and side. He received that extraordinary gift a few days after the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross (September 14) two years before he died, in 1224. Although Saint Paul had boasted of the wounds he received in service of the Gospel -- scars of beatings, stoning, and scourging -- the stigmata of Saint Francis were a first. Other saints (and some charlatans) would claim the gift later, but his were the first. 

We should understand two things about Saint Francis and these wounds: they were very painful, and he showed them to no one. Only a friar who personally nursed the dying man knew of them. They were shown to the world after he died and before he was buried. 

We understand them as heaven's sign that this man truly imitated Jesus Christ like no other saint before or since. He had wanted to be a martyr and set out in quest of that prize by stowing away on a ship to Egypt and then walking into the Muslim camp. But the inspired sultan had only been charmed by the Poor Man's obvious holiness and returned him to the Christian camp. Francis returned to Italy disappointed.

Not long after that, as he was praying in solitude, he had a vision of the Crucified born aloft like a seraphic angel. (Francis had drawn much inspiration from the Prophet Isaiah and his vision of seraphs hovering around the Majesty of God.) He could hardly know what the startling, silent apparition meant before the wounds appeared on his body. 

To his disciples and the Church, they mean we should bear the crosses the Lord gives us, without complaint and with a grateful spirit. Some of us are invited to select the cross by way of marriage and  parenthood, the priesthood, or religious life. All are expected to bear the crosses we did not choose until they were laid upon us. 

At that point, with divine insight and inspiration, we do choose the crosses. We learn to be grateful for them for they are severe, relentless teachers. Crosses like alcoholism, depression, sexless marriage, diabetes, cancer, disabilities and so forth are doorways leading to deeper experience of God's compassion and substantial communion with fellow sufferers. 

My depression, for instance, will not suffer self-pity, resentment, or idleness. No sooner do I indulge in these guilty pleasures than the depression comes over me like a suffocating blanket. Fuggedaboutit! he says. Get back to where you belong -- in God's presence. 

From a psychiatric point of view, I might add, these crosses help us to individuate. Although I just wanted to be like everybody else, I learn that I am like no other person in the history of the universe. And I enjoy a singular relationship before God.

The most Catholic of saints also impels his disciples to revere our Catholic tradition. We might study the ways of other religions and appreciate their insights but we only bring them back to be rediscovered within our Catholic heritage. 

Finally -- (a second finale) -- the cross and Saint Francis command us to "Look at the Humility of God," both as the Crucified and as the Eucharist. No experience of God can be more immediate than the Precious Body and Blood of the Lord. 

Amen.