Repair My House

His favorite place of prayer was the little old chapel of San Damiano, one of the many, which stood in the countryside around Assisi.  On most of these the roof gaped and the walls crumbled with neglect.  San Damiano held a crucifix before which Francis liked especially to pray.
 
One day while he was kneeling before this sign of our Lord’s suffering, he asked more earnestly than before: “Great and glorious God, my Lord, Jesus Christ, I implore thee to enlighten me and to scatter the darkness from my soul.  Give me true faith and firm hope and perfect charity.  Grant me, O Lord, to know thee so well that in all things I may act by Thy light, and in accordance with Thy Holy Will.”  And the voice of the Lord spoke to him through the crucifix: “Francis, go and repair My house, which is falling into ruins.”  Now, the only houses of the Lord which Francis knew were the churches.  He looked around at San Damiano.  Through the roof he could see the sky, and among the heaped-up stones of the walls were the dens that the foxes had made.  Here at last was something for him to do.  Like a careful businessman, he first figured out the cost of the roof, walls and furnishings.  Then he leaped onto his horse and galloped into Assisi and to his father’s shop.  Pietro Bernardone was away on one of his trips, so without question from anyone, Francis snatched up a roll o the finest red silk and raced off with it to the market town of Foligno.  He quickly found a buyer for the material.  Just in case he might need more money, he sold the horse as well.  Then as quickly as he could, he made his way on foot to San Damiano.
 
There was living at the chapel an old priest, poor but generous.  Into his hands Francis poured out the money from his sale of cloth and horse, for stone and mortar and furnishings of the chapel.  But the old priest shrank from the gold, for fear of Pietro Bernardone.
 
However, he did agree that Francis might live in a shelter near the chapel.  This was the time that Francis left the world and called himself the Servant of God.  But Francis alone knew how often, as he lay in that windy shelter, pinched with cold and hunger, he thought of his father’s house, with its laden table and warm beds.  Still, in doing the will of God, his heart sang with a joy he had never dreamed of when he sat with a cup of wine before a fire.  So for the love of God he commanded his body to do the pleasure of his soul.   
 

The Crazy Man

Pietro Bernardone returned finally from the county where he had been traveling.  He had no sooner set foot in the town than he heard talk of what Francis had done with the cloth and the horse.  He cried first, “My Son!” and then “My gold!”  This last he said not because he was greedy for the money itself, but because he could not understand why it had not been spent for the worldly advantage of Francis or the family.  He went straight to San Damiano.  But Francis was out in the woods, deep in his prayers.  So Pietro had to leave without seeing his son.
 
When Francis learned that his father had come and gone, he called himself a coward and no true knight of Christ, because up to this time he had been afraid to face Pietro Bernardone or any of his old friends in Assisi.  Immediately he took the path, which led through the woods to the town.
 
As he passed along the streets, all the people who saw him stopped to stare.  They were accustomed to see Francis Bernardone dressed in the height of fashion, and now he appeared with his garments soiled and torn, and his face ghostly with fasting.  His old friends were ashamed, and looked quickly away.  But the rabble began to follow him, laughing and crying out, “Look at the crazy man!”  And they pelted him with stones and trash.  The children also joined in the mockery.
 
It so happened that Pietro Bernardone was at this very moment in his shop.  The shouting of the crowd drew him to the door.  He saw what burned the eyes in his head…his favorite son, his heir, covered with mud and followed by a jeering rabble.  The father was driven to madness by this blow to his pride.  He pulled Francis into the shop, loaded him with blows and curses, and afterwards locked him in the cellar room.  Then to escape wagging tongues, he set off on another journey.  But first he left orders with the servants that Francis was to be given only bread and water. 
 
No sooner had Pietro Bernardone left the house than Francis’ mother Donna Pica unlocked the cellar door and went to her son.  She found him nursing his bruises with good cheer.  She could not understand all that he said to her then, but one thing was clear to her mind.  Francis thought this life was God’s will for him, and therefore neither she nor his father had a right to stand in his way.  She brought him good food, and made him eat it, and put more in his pockets to take with him.  Then she gave him her blessing and surrendered him to God.  So Francis returned to San Damiano. 
 

A Father Lost and One Found

When Pietro Bernardone came back and missed Francis from the cellar, he found no words hard enough for his son.  He called his lawyers, and ordered them to draw up papers in which he called Francis to court.  He would either break the boy to his will, or cut him off from family, goods and property.  Now this trial had to be held before the Bishop of Assisi, because Francis had declared himself a servant of God.  On the day appointed for the hearing, all the people of Assisi who could walk or ride found business, which brought them into the square.
 
So at last Francis and his father faced each other in the presence of the Bishop and all the people.  The Bishop said to Francis: “Even if you wish to serve the Church, you have no right under pretense of good works to keep money that you may have obtained unjustly.  Give this money back to your father, to quiet him.”  Then Francis said to the Bishop, “My Lord, I will not only give him the money cheerfully, but also the clothes I have received from him.”  And in the presence of that entire crowd, he stripped off his scarlet cloak and his suit of fine material, and stood before the people in a rough shirt of haircloth.  Then he cried out: “Listen, all of you!  Hitherto I have called Pietro Bernardone father. Now I returned to him his money and all the clothes I have received from him, so that hereafter I shall not say ‘Father Pietro Bernardone,’ but ‘Our Father Who Art in Heaven.”  And he laid both clothes and money at Pietro Bernardone’s feet.  The father was first dumbstruck with amazement; then with his face set like stone, he picked up both clothes and money and left the court.
 
Then the Bishop wrapped his own cloak around Francis’ shoulders, until another was brought by the gardener, an old one that he found in the closet.  Francis, after he had put on this poor cloak, walked out of the square and through the gates of Assisi into the countryside.  And as he went he sang.  For now his life rested entirely in the hands of his Father in heaven.  Lady Poverty had set him free from all care of house, gold and family.  So he wandered trusting and joyful as the forest birds that live from the storehouse of God.
 
He went afterwards in all confidence to a friend in the town of Gubbio, who for the love of God gave him a pilgrim’s robe, with a leather belt and shoes.  Then Francis returned to San Damiano, and to his work of rebuilding chapels.  He no longer had money to buy stone for the walls.  So he went with a basket from door to door, calling, “He who gives one stone, will receive one blessing; for two stones, two blessings; three stones, three blessings!”  By most people he was loaded with more scorn than stones.  Be accepted both with a cheerful face, glad to suffer even curses in the service of his Lord.  When the roof at San Damiano was able to keep out the rain, he rebuilt other chapels in this same way.
 

Francis Finds the Way

After he had worked in this fashion for some time, he was at Mass one day when he heard these words in the Holy Gospel:  “Go preach, saying, ‘The Kingdom of God is at hand.’ Do not possess gold, nor silver, nor money in your purses; nor scrip for your journey, nor two coats, nor shoes nor staff, for the laborer is worthy of his meat.”And when Francis had heard these words, he cried out, “This is what I wish; this is what I am seeking; this is what I long with all my inmost heart to do!”
 
He set himself at once to follow exactly the council of his Lord.  He took off his shoes and went with bare feet; he exchanged his pilgrim’s robe for the rough tunic of a peasant, which he gathered about the waist with a piece of frayed rope.
 
When he had done this, the Lord gave him to understand that he was not called to restore chapels, but to rebuild the Church of God throughout the world.  He wasted not a minute in starting this work, but went straight to the market place.
 
In gathering a crowd he had no trouble at all, for the buyers and sellers alike left the stalls to come and laugh at him.  But he faced them all with a smile, and he greeted them, “May the Lord give you peace!”  Then he began to speak to them from his heart of the love and goodness of God.  And they hushed each other to silence.  For they had never heard these things spoken so simply and so beautifully in their common tongue.  And they were stirred to their souls.
 
During all this time, the old priest of San Damiano had given Francis food and drink.  But now Francis thought of another pledge of loyalty he might give his Lady Poverty.  He took up a bowl, and every day he begged his food from door to door.
 

Coming of the Twelve

There was living in Assisi at that time a man of wealth and position, whose name was Bernard of Quintavalle.  He was as good as he was rich, but for many years he had been looking for a way to come closer to God.  He watched Francis, and saw how exactly this man’s patience and humility matched his words concerning Christ.
 
Bernard invited Francis to stay at his house, and in the night, when they were in the same room, Bernard made believe that he was fast asleep.  Then Francis rose from is bed and knelt to pray.  The whole night Bernard watched him secretly, and Francis said only this one prayer, “My God and my All!  My God and my All!”  At first Bernard thought him a stupid person to be saying these same words all night long.  Then he asked himself what more does a man need say, if he meant these words from his heart.  And he knew that here was the one who would lead him closer to God.  Shortly after that, Peter Catanii, a jurist of keen mind, came to Francis for the same purpose.  The next was a peasant by the name of Giles, who was practical and of a ready wit. 
 
The four of them went about the countryside, living on God’s bounty as freely as the birds.  They worked for their daily bread, begging only when no work came to hand. Money they would never touch.  They shared both crust and cup with the hungry, and when they had given away everything except the clothes that covered them, they tore off sleeves or hoods and gave the cloth for the poor to sell.  They preached to the people everywhere, on the roads and in the market places.  And they cared for lepers.
 
In all things they followed the example of Francis.  But he would never allow the Brothers to fast as severely as he did.  He looked after their health with care, and ordered them to take the food and sleep which each needed to serve the Lord.  None was to envy those who could work on a crust, nor look down on those who needed half a loaf.  On one occasion, when a sick Brother fancied some grapes, but was ashamed to ask, Francis took him into an arbor, and sat down to eat grapes with him, so that no one might point a finger at that Brother.
 

A Pope Has a Dream

When the number of men who followed Francis had come to twelve, he made up his mind that he would go to Rome and ask approval of the Pope on this way of life.  So he went to Rome.  He talked first with many Cardinals, but all of them shook their heads at the thought that any group of men could live without property of possessions of their own. Even Pope Innocent III, when Francis spoke to him, answered that this life was too bitter for ordinary men.
 
But that night the Pope had a dream.  In this dream, he saw the vast Church of St. John Lateran begin to lean and to fall.  This building was called the heart and the mother of churches, and the Pope understood it’s falling to mean that the whole structure of the Church was in peril of collapse.  And this in spite of all the labor he had performed to mend abuses and restore order.  Then there appeared before those leaning walls a small man in a ragged garment.  Tiny as an ant before the gigantic building, he nevertheless laid his shoulder against a wall and pushed the church back into place.  Then he turned his head toward the Pope, and Innocent III saw that the man was Francis.
 
The very next day the Pope approved all the plans that Francis had made.  Later, when Francis wrote out his Rule for his followers, he called them the Lesser Brothers, because they were to be the most humble, and the servants of all the other servants of God and of the people.  He wrote at the head of this rule: “The rule and the life of the Lesser Brothers is this: namely, to observe the Holy Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ, by living in obedience, without property, and in chastity.”
 

The First Poor Lady

Now that Francis had approval from the Pope, he preached in churches.  One day he mounted the pulpit in the Cathedral of San Rufino in his native Assisi.  Among the crowd, which filled, every corner of the Cathedral stood a young lady of noble family, Clare Scifi by name.  Every word that Francis spoke of the joys of poverty and the total service of the Lord found an echo in her heart.  For many years she had yearned to spend her life for God, but her family urged her constantly to marry.
 
Now after Clare had listened to Francis, she went to visit him in the company of relatives who understood her heart.  And Francis, after talking with her several times, discovered that she had both courage and strength of will.  So he allowed her to come one night with her aunt to San Damiano.  Here she cut the curls from her head, and put over it the veil of a nun.  Francis knew that other young women would join her.  So he gave her San Damiano for her convent.
 
Shortly after Clare’s own sister Agnes came, and then her aunt.  These never left the cloister, but spent their days in prayer and in caring for the sick who were brought to them. They walked barefooted, and wore rough habits also.  They owned no property and took no money, but ate bread, which was given to them by people of charity.  Many other women came to the Convent of San Damiano, and Clare taught them to serve the Lord with joy.  Finally they were called Poor Clares, as they are to this day.
 

For the Men and Women in the World

When people all over the countryside heard Francis speak with such fire of the suffering and death of Christ, they wanted to leave their homes and families and go to serve the Lord.
 
Since this was not possible, they begged Francis to give them a rule of peace like those he had made for the Brothers and for the Poor Clares.  So Francis set down for these people in the world a way of life, which he called his Third Order.
 
In the spirit of his Lady Poverty, he begged them to be plain and simple in food and dress, and to share what they saved in this manner with the poor.  They were never to commit any sinful thought or action for the sake of profit.  And they were to establish the peace of Christ by refusing to bear arms except in just defense of their country.
 
Men by the thousands, with their wives and their families, hurried to accept this Rule.  They shared cheerfully with all those in need, so that the sick were comforted and the poor provided for.
 
It was the custom in those times for the great lords to send their subjects into bloody wars for some petty question of pride, or scrap of land.  But now men by the thousands had pledged themselves not to take up the sword unless their own country was threatened.  One great lord after another found himself without an army.  And after a time the wars halted, and hatred died away.  This was the peace of Christ for which good men had worked and prayed over the centuries. 
 

Francis Goes On Crusade

After he had set his Third Order going, Francis followed the road of the Crusaders to the Holy Land.  He burned with the greatest longing to walk the streets and touch the walls of Jerusalem where Christ had suffered and died.  In his eagerness to preach to the Muslims, he outran the army.  With only one Brother as companion, he made his way defenseless and unarmed across the fiery sands to the camp of the Sultan himself.  There the Muslims took Francis and his companion prisoner, beat them, and dragged them bound before the Sultan Melek-el-Kaml.  Francis was glad, because he hoped that he might die here for Christ.
 
But Melek-el-Kaml was filled with admiration for the courage of Francis, and offered him a fortune in gold to remain in the camp.  Francis would have given his own life to win the soul of Melek-el-Kaml to Christ.  But day after day, the Sultan only smiled at his preaching and heaped more upon the fortune that Francis would not touch.  So Francis begged leave to go, and he went away sick at heart.
 

A Council and Some Birds

The year of his return to Italy, which was 1221, he called the Lesser Brothers together in their fist great Council.  Thirteen years before, three men had followed him.  Now five thousand in rough habits and sandals tramped the roads of Italy, France and Germany to their meeting ground.
 
And when they were all in place, Francis stood up and handed over leadership of his Order to Peter Catanii.  He pictured himself as a poor and small black hen, too weak to care for this vast family.  A disease of the eyes, which had come upon him in the Orient, also tormented him.  And above all he felt the caves and secret places of the woods calling him to be alone with God.
 
It was after this Council that a thing happened so wonderful it astounded all the countryside.  Francis was preaching to the people in a field where there were many trees.  A large number of birds in the branches drowned his words with their twittering and chirpings.  He turned to the birds and asked them courteously to be still until he had finished announcing the word of God.  And the birds fell silent one and all.
 
When Francis had finished his sermon, he called to the birds, and they came down to him.  Some of them perched tamely on his shoulders.  Then he preached to them a little lesson on how gratefully they ought to praise their creator who, without any labor of their own, dressed them warmly in feathers and set them a table in the fields.  And all the birds stretched out their wings and bent their heads to show they understood.   Then Francis told them to fly up and praise God, and they rose to the sky in a cloud of singing.
 
From that time on, all sorts of creatures, even fish and crickets, accepted Francis as their friend.  One time he tamed a ferocious wolf with a few words and the sign of the Holy Cross.  People who watched these things wrote them down in a book, which they called the Fioretti, “The Little Flowers of St. Francis.”
 
It was not for their own brightness or sweetness of song that Francis loved the flowers and the birds, nor did he delight for its own sake in the splendor of star, sun or moon, calling them Brother and Sister.  He blessed them for their good service to him and to all men in showing forth the glory of God, and by this means lifting the hearts of all to praise and thank their Creator.
 
 

Grecchio and a Christmas Gift

In the winter of 1223, on a day of wind and rain, Francis was walking to a town called Grecchio.  His feet sank deep in the mud, but his heart sang, for this was the season of Christmas, when his mind was all-afire with love for the Christ Child.  He thought how along such a road as this the Holy Ones, Joseph and Mary, toiled to find the cold welcome of a stable.  And he was glad to share their miseries.
 
When he had come near Grecchio, he stopped at a cave.  On he eve of Christmas, he had his Brothers who were in that place go through the town and cal all the people out to him.  For the love that they had for Francis, they climbed bravely up the hillside.  When they reached the place, they saw a light within the cave, and they bent low to peek inside. There they saw a wonder…a manger with a likeness of the Christ Child.  An ox and a donkey munched hay beside.  Then Holy Mass was offered in that cave, and when Francis and the Brothers who were with him all sang out, “Glory be to God in the highest,” the people from devotion fell on their knees.
 
Every year after that in Grecchio they set up the crib in the cave, for love of the Christ Child and his good servant Francis.  Later other cities and then the people in their homes made this holy custom their own.  So from Grecchio the Christmas Crib spread throughout the world.
 

God's Seal of Approval

There is a mountain near Assisi called La Verna.  A wealthy man who owned this property gave it to Francis for a place of prayer.  Here in September of the year 1224, he went to keep the fast before the feast of St. Michael the Archangel.  He made a shelter for himself in a cave that had been the home of a beast among the rocks.
 
When it was the 14th day of September, which is the feast of the Holy Cross, he stood on a ledge of rock that stretched outside this cave.  And he prayed: O Lord Jesus Christ, I entreat you to give me two graces before I die; first, that in my lifetime I may feel in body and soul as far as possible the pain you endured, dear Lord, in the hour of your most bitter sufferings; and second, that I may feel in my heart as far as possible that excess of love by which You, O Son of God, were inflamed to undertake so cruel a suffering for us sinners!”
 
When he had closed this prayer, brightness lighted the sky, and Francis saw coming toward him with the swiftness of an arrow through the heavens a figure of Christ Crucified. And Francis, who had tried all his days to become like Christ in body and in heart, found that God Himself had finished this work.  For now there appeared in Francis’ hands, feet and side wounds that bled and burned like those that Christ bore upon the Cross.
 

A Song of the Sun

From that hour, Francis hid his feet with sandals, and lowered his sleeves over his hands.  But no amount of caution kept the people from discovering on way or another that he had been fashioned into a living image of Christ.
 
By this time, Francis was so worn with pain and sickness that he had to ride a little donkey.  At every village to which word of his coming spread, all the men and women, young and old, came out to meet him.  They knelt along the roadway, and as he passed, they reached to touch his sandal or the edge of his sleeve, or even the bridle of the donkey.  He begged them often not to do these things, but more often when he rode through villages he saw neither houses nor people.  For his body and his soul were taken up entirely with the memory of that face of Christ which had looked at him with all love and pain from his vision of the Crucified on Mount La Verna.
 
Now Francis was all but blind, the trouble in his eyes having grown so heavy that he hid his face from the light of Brother Sun.  Yet he would not stay quiet in any one place, but started off on new journeys.  He said to his Brothers, “Let us begin to do good, for up to now we have done nothing.”  And another time he wanted to go and end his days caring for lepers.
 
But his body, which had always been the faithful servant of his soul, fell down, like an over-driven donkey, and could not be made to rise again.  So Francis had to lie still and let himself be cared for and doctored.
 
It was at this time that he composed new praises of God, which he called the Canticle of the Sun, or the Praises of God through His creatures.  This he began with a verse which soars to heaven with the swiftness of the lark:
 

Most high, almighty and good Lord
 
Yours is the praise, the glory, honor, blessing All
 
To You, Most High, alone of right they do belong,
 
And no mortal man is fit to mention You.
 
Be praised, my Lord, through all Your creatures
 
And first of all Sir Brother Sun,
 
Who brings the day, and light You give to us through him,
 
And beautiful is he, agleam with mighty splendor,
 
Of You, most High, he gives us sign.

Lead My Soul Out of Prison

In spite of all doctoring and care, Francis felt the one he called Sister Death approach nearer every day.  He begged his Brothers to carry him home to the Chapel of St. Mary of the Angels, which is also called the Portiuncula.  When they cam to hill outside the walls of Assisi, he asked them to place him in such a way that he faced that city.  Then he blessed the town of his birth, its houses, walls and streets where he had walked with his dreams and found joy and fulfillment.  And after that they carried him to the Portiuncula.
 
All through the autumn of 1226 he waited, spending his days begging his Brothers in word and in writing to be faithful to Holy Poverty.  And while his body wasted away, his soul burned with a joy that warmed everyone who came near him.
 
On the first day of October, he heard Sister Death at the door.  Then he asked to be stripped of his habit, and to be laid on the bare ground so that he might die with nothing, as Christ had upon the Cross.  But the Superior ordered him to accept the habit that a Brother gave him.  And Francis was glad to take this as a gift to a poor young man.  Then he raised in hand in a blessing for all his Brothers, those who stood near and those who walked in far places.  And he said to those who watched him, “I have done what was mine to do.  May Christ now teach you yours.”
 
Finally it was the third day of October, and with the darkening of the day into twilight,
Francis welcomed Sister Death into his presence.  His Brothers knelt beside him, trying with prayer to hold back the sobs, and watching him by the light of a little candle.  And they saw his face grow bright with Joy.  Then he began to recite with them the 141st Psalm, down to the words, “Bring my soul out of prison.”  The Brothers finished the last words all alone, “The just await me, until thou reward me.”
 
As soon as the soul of Francis flew from this earth, a flock of larks, those birds that are never heard except in the morning, darted upward through the twilight shadows, singing most joyfully.
 

Conclusion

St. Francis’ body lies buried in Assisi, but he still walks in spirit through the world today.  Men and women of all classes see his faithful mirroring of Christ’s own way, and they ask themselves, “What could be better?”  Then they begin to follow him, especially by joining one of his Orders.