|
|
|
|
|
"Il Santo! Il Santo!" the townspeople would cry as the man came walking barefoot into the main square, his clothing an old sack tied with a rope. They would gather expectantly and listen intently to his words, words awakening in them visions of beauty, words leading them to ever deeper love of the One who made them, words bringing shame in their hearts for their hatreds toward each other. And then he would be off again, pursuing his mission in other towns, setting other hearts on the road to love. His name was Francesco Bernardone, and in a short fifteen years, he lit a fire of Christ's love that has still not stopped burning. We call him Francis of Assisi. Saturday, October 4, was his feast day.
Francis was a man specially marked by joy. One day he was walking with Brother Leo. It was bitterly cold. He said to Brother Leo, "If the Friars Minor were to give a great example of integrity and holiness to all, note carefully that perfect joy is not in that." A little further on he said, "If a friar were to heal the sick, give sight to the blind, make the lame walk, even raise a man from the dead, note that perfect joy is not in that." Then a little further on he said, "If a friar knew all languages, and all theology, and could prophesy and predict the future, and read hearts and consciences, write down that perfect joy is not in that." Then going a little further he said, "Brother Leo, if a friar were able to preach such that all infidels would come to the faith, please note that perfect joy is not in that."
Finally Brother Leo turned to him in amazement and said, "For God's sake, please tell me where perfect joy is to be found!"
Francis replied to him, "If when we come to the monastery where we hope to spend the night, soaked by
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
the rain and frozen with cold, soiled with mud and suffering from hunger, and we ring at the gate and the porter comes and says angrily: "Who are you?" And we say, "We are two of your brothers;" and he contradicts us saying: "You are lying. You are two rascals who go about deceiving people and stealing what they have. Go away!" And he makes us stand outside in the snow and rain, cold and hungry until night falls; and if we endure all those insults and rebuffs patiently, without being troubled and without complaining, oh, Brother Leo, note that perfect joy is there!
"And if we continue to knock, and the porter comes out in anger, and drives us away with curses and hard blows like bothersome scoundrels, saying: "Get away from here, you dirty thieves! You certainly won't eat or sleep here!" And if he comes out with a club and throws us onto the ground, rolling us in the mud and snow, and if we endure all those evils and insults and blows reflecting on how much Christ bore for our sakes, note down that perfect joy is there!
"And now hear the conclusion, Brother Leo. Above all the graces and gifts of the Holy Spirit which Christ gives to His friends is that of conquering oneself and willingly enduring sufferings, insults, humiliations, and hardships for the love of Christ. For we cannot glory in all those other marvelous gifts of God, as they are not ours but God's, as the Apostle says: 'What have you that you have not received?' But we can glory in the cross of tribulations and afflictions, because that is ours, and so the Apostle says: 'I will not glory save in the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ. To whom be glory and honor for ever and ever."
[From The Little Flowers of St. Francis]
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
+ "They are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, no human being must separate…"
"Whoever does not accept the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it." (Mark 10:2-16)
LOVE THAT LETS GO: It was love at first sight. I knew how the kid felt who clambered breathlessly through the front door and cried. "Dad, I'm in love!" "How do you know it's love?" his father asked. "Because, when I kissed her good night, her dog bit me and I never even felt it till I got home!" Though I'd not experienced the dog-bite test, I knew how he felt. I was sure it was love. She was sure, too. But six weeks later I noticed something peculiar about her love. "I love you too much to hold on to you," she said, "I want you to be happy, and if that means we don't marry then it's okay." Another time, she said, "I love you so much I want to let you go. Don't feel tied to me." That sounded peculiar. You see, my love for her was different. "I love you so much I want to make you mine," was my kind of love. "I love you so much I'm not going to let you go." My love was a hanging-on kind of love. Hers was a letting go kind of love. My love worried about what it might do to me if I lost the object of my desire. Her love worried about what it might do to me if she hung on too tight. Peculiar. One morning she returned from a doctor's appointment distraught. "He told me I can't have any babies." Her swollen eyes overflowed. "I know you want children. I'll understand if you don't want to marry me," she continued. "I love you too much to keep you." There it was again--that peculiar letting-go kind of love. All this happened thirty-plus years ago, and in that time I've learned something about love. Love is letting go. It's as simple and as difficult as that. And I learned something else, too. The doctor was wrong about the babies. Three times.
CONNECTION: Thomas Merton wrote that: "Love seeks one thing only: the good of the one loved. It leaves all other secondary effects to take care of themselves. Love, therefore, is its own reward." Such selfless love is the true bond of marriage; sacred and holy, mirroring the great and limitless love of God. A couple's life together, centered in trust, forgiveness, and love, and their generous response to the vocation of parenthood, model the unfathomable and profound love of God, love that lets go rather than holds on, happily gives rather than takes, liberates rather than imprisons. The sacrament of marriage, as Jesus taught, is a total giving and sharing by each spouse so that the line between "his" and "hers" disappears into only "ours." In the life they create together, life that sometimes means both taking on and letting go for the sake of the beloved, Christ is the ever-present Wedding Guest, who makes their simple everyday life together a miraculous sacrament for all to behold.
|
|
|
|
|
|
