Just a simple blog of a Secular Franciscan trying to live with a Franciscan focus. (And one of these days I'll fix the template and add a Search feature. :-P)
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May the Lord bless you,
protect you,
and keep you
happy, healthy, and safe with us
for the rest of your life. Amen.
- - - - - * Of course, there are a gajillion (technical term) Franciscan pet blessings out there, and most are better. Mine simply has the distinction of bein' short and therefore easier to remember.
** I like to dip my thumb in holy water and then trace the sign of the cross.
With All Saints Day coming up in a few weeks on 1 Nov. (and All Saints of the Franciscan Order on the 5th), I thought it'd be fun to share my absolute fave saints -- my Saintly Circle, in Google+ parlance, if you will -- and a little bit as to why I like them.
There are loads more saints that I love, like St. Anthony of Padua, St. Dominic, and St. Louis-Marie Grignion de Montfort to name a few. But if I included all of them, you'd nod off and start drooling on your keyboard, and drool + keyboard = possible electrocution. So, in the interest of public safety, I present My Top 10 Saints.
1 & 2. Joseph and Mary
These two pretty much go without sayin', but ... I'm saying 'em anyway. :-) For Joseph, how can you not admire someone who answers to "Terror of Demons"? And Mary's the Mother of God. 'Nuff said.
3. St. Francis of Assisi
Bein' that I'm a Franciscan, this should also go without saying. One of the things I love best about Francis Bernardone was his wholehearted embrace of living the Gospel sine glossa, "without gloss". Sadly, in our time, he's become sissified into a Birkenstock-clad, Tree-huggin' Birdman. But in reality, Francis was as tough as nails and took a no-holds-barred approach to sin.
"See, you who are blind, deceived by your enemies, the world, the flesh and the devil, for it is pleasant to the body to commit sin and it is bitter to make it serve God because all vices and sins come out and 'proceed from the heart of man' as the Lord says in the Gospel. And you have nothing in this world and in the next, and you thought you would possess the vanities of this world for a long time."[1]
That sound like a nambly-pambly "anything goes" guy? Didn't think so.
The other half of the Franciscan Wonder Twins. (Franciscan powers, activate! Form of ... a Tau!)
No, she's not a biological twin of Francis, but Clare Offreduccio is Francis' arse-kicking spiritual twin. Born of nobility, she was inspired by Francis' example of uncompromising Gospel living and left it all behind to do the same. She eventually came to found the Poor Clares, the Second Order in the overall Franciscan Order.
Even though she was of frail health, Clare twice saved San Damiano and her sisters from invaders: In 1240, she repelled hordes of Saracen mercenaries by holding aloft the Eucharist while praying for her sisters and the city of Assisi. She did it again in 1241 against the troops of Vitalis d'Aversa. Don't mess with Mama Clare.
Named the "Apostle of Divine Mercy", Sister Mary Faustina Kowalska was graced with numerous visions of Christ Himself, in which He instructed her to make widely known the depths of His mercy to an aching and broken world. She heroically lived her life with childlike simplicity and trust in God, and faithfully obeyed God, her spiritual director, and superiors in all things.
Because of her obedience, we have the magnificent Divine Mercy devotions, such as the Divine Mercy Chaplet, the Divine Mercy image, and more. Faustina said nothing new -- the Lord has always been a Lord of mercy -- she simply reminded us of God's unfathomable mercy and communicated deeper ways of contemplating it.
Plain-spoken, direct, and full of compassion for the average schmoe striving for sanctity, St. Francis wrote -- among others -- An Introduction to the Devout Life, which I find enormously helpful and inspiring in its practical advice. With a complete collection of his writing/sayings spread in front of you, ya could close your eyes, randomly plop your finger down, and find a gem. Ev'ry time. For example:
"A spirit of mockery is one of the worst imperfections of the mind, and displeases God greatly, so that He has often punished it most severely. Nothing is more hurtful to charity, and still more to devotion, than contempt and derision of our neighbor, and such is inevitably found in mockery."[2]
Bam! (And ouch -- it's so easy to fall into mockery, isn't it?)
I absolutely adore Ignatius' vivid imagination, and his advice on how to use our own imaginations while praying, as well as in everyday situations, like eating:
"While one is eating, let him imagine he sees Christ our Lord and His disciples at table, and consider how He eats and drinks, how He looks, how He speaks, and then strive to imitate Him. In this way, his mind will be occupied principally with our Lord, and less with the provision for the body. Thus he will come to greater harmony and order in the way he ought to conduct himself."[3]
Every time I read anything of his, it's like being doinked upside the head by Moe of the Three Stooges. Not that I'm sayin' Josemaría is a stooge, just that he has a way of walloping ya back in line. Such as:
"Don't succumb to that disease of character whose symptoms are inconstancy in everything, thoughtlessness in action and speech scatter-brained ideas: superficiality, in short.
"Mark this well: unless you react in time -- not tomorrow: now! -- that superficiality which each day leads you to form those empty plans (plans 'so full of emptiness') will make of your life a dead and useless puppet."[4]
Not only am I inspired by his firm devotion to Our Lady, but his heroic self-sacrifice never ceases to humble and amaze me:
"In 1941, the Nazis imprisoned Father Maximilian in the Auschwitz death camp. There he offered his life for another prisoner and was condemned to slow death in a starvation bunker. On August 14, 1941, his impatient captors ended his life with a fatal injection."[5]
Because of this, I think of him as "Iron Max" -- it truly takes a will of iron to offer up your own life for another ... just like Our Lord.
There's so much to love about Padre Pio Forgione of Pietrelcina! His cheerful good humor! All the miracles attributed to his intercession! And oh, those zingers! My two faves are:
"Bring me my weapon!" (When asking for his Rosary.)
"Pray, hope, and don't worry." (I say this to myself on a regular basis.)
And when folks talk about being humble even in the face of false accusations, he's always invoked as a prime example of patient endurance.
"Concerning Those Who Do Not Do Penance", from "Prologue: Exhortation of St. Francis to the Brothers and Sisters of Penance" in the SFO Rule. The "Brothers and Sisters of Penance" is what the Secular Franciscan Order was originally named. So, this is an exhortation from St. Francis directly to all Secular Franciscans, in all ages. Booyah!
Part Third, Chapter 27: "Modesty in Conversation, and Becoming Reverence", from An Introduction to the Devout Life.
I tried thinking of a Profound And/Or Significant Subject To Post About in honor of the day, but, alas, came up short. (Gee, big surprise.) So, instead I figgered I'd share my recent investigation on how to properly dispose of razorblades! Well, y'know, it's got a bit of an environmental connection and Francis is the patron of ecology and ... and ... eh, whatever.
My recent questing was triggered last night while preparing to shave the ol' gams. I've got one o' them replaceable-blade razors, and 'twas time to pop out the old blade and put in a fresh one. As I contemplated the bitty plastic tray (properly called "magazine") full of used blades (properly called "cartridges") ready to be tossed, I wondered again if there was a better way to deal with 'em than to simply toss said Tray-O-Blades into the trash. Isn't that pushing things, safety-wise? And how environmentally-friendly is that, anyway?
I asked Husband Mike what his thoughts were, but he's in the same boat with tossing his Tray-O-Guy-Blades and had no suggestions. Off I went a-Googling and turned up the following stuff:
This site recommended keeping "an old sour cream or yogurt container handy. Put old blades in the container and pour leftover epoxy in the container." Well, that's something to consider if we ever need to ditch craft-type ones. But still, I'm not sure putting 'em in containers of epoxy is the best way to go, environmentally.
Elsewhere, found a suggestion to take 'em to a local trade metal recycler. Again, I think that applies more to the crafty kind, not the disposable, shaving-your-legs, surrounded-by-plastic kind.
This comprehensive video wasn't that helpful for me, as it pretty much said to toss the tray-o-blades into the garbage, as-is:
TreeHugger shared news about the Razor Saver, whose manufacturer clams it can "sharpen your used disposable razor heads for up to 130 shaves (!); using their math, that's a 75% reduction." At least it's a plus for the environment.
Finally, I came across this Safety Razor FAQ Database, which suggested calling your local garbage/sanitation department and see what they recommend. May haps I'll try that tomorrow.
So, there ya go. And don't suggest not shaving -- I can assure you that resembling a yeti is not high on my Happy List.
"Only one of two recently examined ancient tunics thought to be worn by the Roman Catholic friar Saint Francis of Assisi is an authentic relic of the saint, according to a new analysis." Read the full article.
One of the things that folks frequently wonder about Secular Franciscans (and those in other third/secular orders) is if we wear habits. And the answer is yes, Secular Franciscans do wear habits, and we always have!
The Habit
Upon entering Candidacy (novitiate), a secular is clothed in our Order's habit, which -- in the U.S. -- is a Tau cross pendant, like what you see on the left. It's always to be worn in some way, whether as a pendant (preferred) or pin, ring, or some other form. The image is composed of two parts, the Tau and the Conformity.
The Tau. While the Tau represents Christ's cross, it's also the last letter of the Hebrew alphabet and gained special significance in the Old Testament through Ezekiel 9:4: "Pass through the city (through Jerusalem) and mark an X [Tau] on the foreheads of those who moan and groan over all the abominations that are practiced within it."
At the Fourth Lateran Council -- at which Francis was said to be in attendance -- Pope Innocent III used Ezekiel's Tau imagery in his opening homily, and the Tau became the symbol for the council. From then on, Francis used the Tau in his writings, painted it on the walls and doors of the places where he stayed, and used it as his signature.
It's also said that St. Francis borrowed the Tau and what it meant to him from the Antonines, a religious community of men founded in 1095 whose sole function was to care for the sick, and on whose habit was painted a great Tau cross. Francis was familiar with these men because they staffed the leper house in Assisi and the hospital of St. Blasé in Rome where Francis went to stay.
St. Bonaventure said, "This Tau symbol had all the veneration and all the devotion of the saint: He spoke of it often in order to recommend it, and he traced it on himself before beginning each of his actions." Due to Francis' affection for and devotion to the Tau, it's been a well-recognized and accepted Franciscan symbol for centuries.
The Conformity. On top of the Tau are the crossed arms of Christ and Francis, which is called the "conformity". Christ's bare arm is in front of Francis' clothed arm; Christ's hand has the wound from His Crucifixion; Francis' has the stigmata.
While this is what we currently wear, our habit has changed throughout history.
History
Up until 1508, Secular Franciscans wore full habits. Then this changed to a large scapular held together by a piece of rope around the waist. Over time, the scapular became smaller until the rope was no longer needed to hold it in place and was replaced by a string, and both were then worn underneath clothing.
With the revision of our Rule in 1978, our habit changed from the small scapular and string to -- in the U.S., at least -- the Tau cross.
It's not every day that you read a book review that's prolly better than the book itself, but today's my lucky day. :-P I just read Vincent Ryan's writeup of The Poverty of Riches: St. Francis of Assisi Reconsidered, and appreciated his feedback on the author's "reappraisal of St. Francis of Assisi's relationship to the poor". (Ooooh, hey, does this qualify as a review of a review?) And I laughed out loud over Ryan's comment that,
"As [author] Wolf sees it, the Franciscan founder did little to raise people's opinions of the involuntary poor. ... To present Francis as merely using the poor and suffering as a way to refashion himself, is reducing all his activity to power relations. Somewhere Michel Foucault is applauding."
And his summary is totally spot-on:
"Franco Zeffirelli's [movie] Brother Sun, Sister Moon has been rightfully criticized over the years for presenting Francis as a hippie of the 1960s (with a Donovan soundtrack to boot) instead of as a medieval ascetic. In arguing for this radical reinterpretation of Franciscan poverty, Wolf too seems more concerned with refashioning Francis according to modern theories -- perhaps for the purposes of a new book. Unfortunately, like Zeffirelli's film, Wolf fails to assess and present the founder of the Franciscans within his own historical context."
Thank you, Mr. Ryan, for sparing me the headache of readin' this book. (And finally! Someone else who isn't a fan of Zeffirelli's craptastical movie!)
"All creatures are created from the same paternal heartbeat of God. Not to hurt our humble brethren [animals] is our first duty to them, but to stop there is not enough. We have a higher mission -- to be of service to them whenever they require it." ~ St. Francis of Assisi
This past Sunday, Husband Mike and I added "Wild Goose-Wrangling" to our List Of Life Experiences and played host to an injured Canada goose in our bathroom. The story:
Returning home from Sunday morning Mass, we turned onto the road surrounding our apartment complex and saw a Canada goose walking with head bent low and both wings drooping at his side. This instantly triggered a strong "something's-not-right" suspicion. So, after briefly stopping inside to change, we headed back out to see if we'd simply imagined things, or if the fellow was truly ailing.
It took awhile to find him again, but when we did, a close-up look confirmed that Something Was Indeed Wrong, and he needed help. Back inside we went to call a nearby wildlife rehabilitation center. Could they do anything? Their reply: If we could 1) catch the goose and, 2) bring him to the center, they'd examine him and provide medical treatment if it was needed.
Uh-huh. Catch a Canada goose. Any suggestions how we're supposed to do that?
Try to sneak up on him from behind, and throw a blanket over his head and wings. Then, place him in a Large Box, and put the box in cool, dark, quiet place until you bring him here. And even though it's noon right now, you'll have to wait until 3:00 p.m. because that's when our vet will be here.
Ah.
So, Husband Mike and I dug out an old computer box we'd fortunately not pitched (hoarding boxes does come in handy, I suppose), lined it with towels, grabbed an old blanket, and trudged back outside for some goose-wranglin'.
Picture this: Two grown adults chasing a large Canada goose between them (sneaking proved unsuccessful), flappin' their arms at said goose and each other, with one holding a blanket and the other lugging a Very Large And Cumbersome Computer Box. Did I mention this was along a busy street? And in full view of the neighbors?
After much back-and-forth running and yelling (at each other, not the goose), we finally had a stroke of luck when the goose tripped and Husband Mike threw the blanket over him. It was a little tricky getting Geordi (of course I had to name him) into the box, but we managed it.
With Geordi settled in the big box, we walked as nonchalantly as possible across the parking lot to our apartment. Thankfully, he didn't make any noise along the way, so we never had to explain what we were up to, and we even smuggled him past the cats and into the bathroom without incident.
While time flies when you're having fun, it positively shuffles when you've got a sick goose in your bathroom and you have to wait 3 hours to see a vet. But finally, we got Geordi to the center (again, he was quiet the entire time) and the vet examined him. The prognosis: Geordi's left wing was broken, and the exposed bone had begun to die. The surrounding wound was severely infected and was actually maggot-infested. On his right side was a deep puncture wound, also maggot-infested.
The vet said it takes 3 days for bone to die, and because of that puncture wound, she guessed he'd been attacked 3 days earlier by a predator, most likely a coyote. Unfortunately, she said they'd have to euthanize Geordi, because if they amputated his wing, he'd have to live in captivity and it's illegal to keep Canada geese in captivity. We weren't entirely convinced this was the only choice, since the vet wasn't totally clear in answering our questions about whether or not there were any facilities, anywhere, that could legally keep Canada geese.
Even though the outcome was less than satisfactory, at least we were able to ease Geordi's pain and suffering ("The maggots are eating him alive; he's in excruciating pain," said the vet), and he didn't die alone, in drawn-out agony.
Before we left, I quickly touched Geordi's feathery head in farewell. It was the softest, silkiest sensation I've ever known. I can feel it still.
We all know that obedience is a Very Important Thing, but have we actually pondered the positive effects we gain from observing it? While reading through To Live as Francis Lived: A Guide for Secular Franciscans a few weeks ago, I came across the following bits that brilliantly explained its benefits and why it's so essential for our spiritual health. (While this is obviously written for Secular Franciscans, the concepts apply to everyone.)
"Saint Francis founded an order of brothers. But he founded it on the rock of obedience for two important reasons: 1) that by absolute and unquestioning loyalty to the Church, the order might avoid the shipwreck of heresy into which other movements fell; 2) that his brothers and sisters might have, with poverty and chastity, the third great means of purifying and liberating self-denial -- the giving up of one's own will under a Rule." (p. 84)
* * *
"It was said of Saint Francis and his friend, Saint Dominic, that they were always on the road to Rome or from Rome for the Pope's approval on their work. The brothers and sisters of Saint Francis must never forget that they are Catholic before they are Franciscans. Rather, the better Franciscans they are, the better Catholics they will be." (p. 84)
* * *
"Obedience is not merely a necessity of organization. It possesses two grace-full purposes. First, obedience provides a means of self-denial and self-giving. Poverty strives for freedom from greed. Chastity seeks perfect reasonableness in the sacred area of sex. Obedience seeks freedom from all stubbornness, selfishness, self-centeredness. Obedience calls one to exercise self-discipline, to cooperate and obey according to the Rule and Constitutions. This effort will have one great result: release from self-seeking and pride." (p. 85)
When a pal finally shared pics of his newly-adopted kitteh, I remembered the lil' pet blessing* that I came up with years ago, and figured I'd share it. :-)
I tried thinking of a Profound And/Or Significant Subject To Post About in honor of the day, but, alas, came up short. (Gee, big surprise.) So, instead I figgered I'd share my recent investigation on how to properly dispose of razorblades! Well, y'know, it's got a bit of an environmental connection and Francis is the patron of ecology and ... and ... eh, whatever.
The Habit