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Levels of OFS Fraternity
1. Local Fraternity:
The basic "cell"/group of members in a given locality. Members are animated & guided by an elected council & a Spiritual Assistant appointed by the Provincial Minister to which the local fraternity is "bonded" when established.
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Posted By Teresa Redder, on July 31st, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
August 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
The Lord give you His peace
Through the gift of His presence in the beauty of creation
And in the wonderful image and likeness
Of our Creator in each one of us!
The Canticle of the Creatures stands as one of the most enlightening gifts that Saint Francis of Assisi offered to the Church and to the world. It is not merely a poem celebrating the beauty of creation. It is the song of a man whose heart had been transformed by grace, purified through suffering, and enlarged by forgiveness. It was composed near the end of Francis’ earthly life when blindness, illness, misunderstanding, and physical weakness had become his daily companions. Humanly speaking, he had every reason to lament. Yet instead he praised. His song emerged not from comfort but from communion, not from success but from surrender. It teaches every Franciscan that genuine praise does not ignore suffering but embraces it through trust in the goodness of God.
Francis learned to see creation not as an object to possess but as a family to receive. Brother Sun, Sister Moon, Brother Wind, Sister Water, Brother Fire, Sister Mother Earth, and finally Sister Bodily Death were not poetic devices created for literary beauty alone. They were expressions of a profound spiritual vision. Francis no longer stood above creation as its master. He stood within creation as a brother. Everything that existed pointed beyond itself to the Creator, and everything reflected something of God’s generosity. To call the sun “Brother” and the earth “Mother” was not sentimentality. It was an acknowledgment that all creatures have their origin in the same loving Father.
Yet there is a remarkable movement within the Canticle that deserves particular attention. After praising the visible elements of creation, Francis unexpectedly turns toward human relationships. He blesses those who forgive. Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love and bear infirmity and tribulation. This verse is not an interruption of the Canticle. It is its climax. The harmony of creation reaches its fullest expression when human beings are reconciled with one another. The beauty of the sun and the stars finds its fulfillment in the beauty of mercy. Francis understood that a fractured human heart cannot fully join the song of creation until it has learned forgiveness.
Forgiveness is therefore not simply one Christian virtue among many. It is the restoration of creation’s original harmony. Sin introduced division into the world. Humanity became separated from God, from one another, from creation, and even from itself. Every refusal to forgive deepens these fractures. Every act of mercy becomes a participation in God’s work of recreating the world. The Canticle invites us to hear that work taking place around us continually. Every sunrise proclaims the faithfulness of God. Every stream speaks of His generosity. Every gentle breeze whispers His tenderness. But perhaps the clearest proclamation of God’s presence is found whenever one wounded heart forgives another.
Francis did not write these words from theory. His entire life had become an apprenticeship in forgiveness. Long before he embraced lepers, rebuilt churches, or gathered companions around him, he had known the wounds of family conflict. His relationship with his father, Pietro Bernardone, remains one of the defining stories of his conversion. Pietro was a successful cloth merchant, ambitious for his son and eager that Francis should inherit both his business and his social standing. Francis, however, found himself increasingly captivated by another inheritance. The Gospel awakened within him desires that no earthly wealth could satisfy.
The conflict between father and son became public and painful. Pietro believed Francis had betrayed his family, squandered property, and dishonored the expectations placed upon him. Francis had sold cloth and given the proceeds to repair the Church of San Damiano. Pietro demanded restitution and sought legal judgment against his son. Before the bishop of Assisi, Francis did something extraordinary. He returned not only the money but even the clothes he wore. Standing naked before those assembled, he declared that from that moment he could say only, Our Father who art in heaven, for he no longer belonged to Pietro Bernardone but entirely to God.
This dramatic gesture has often been remembered as the moment of Francis’ radical poverty. Indeed, it was. Yet it must also be understood as an act of freedom from bitterness. Francis did not reject his father because he hated him. He surrendered everything because he wished to belong wholly to Christ. There is a profound difference between renunciation born of anger and renunciation born of love. Francis did not spend the remainder of his life condemning Pietro. He did not define himself by his father’s rejection. He did not carry resentment as a hidden possession after relinquishing every visible possession.
The temptation would have been understandable. Few wounds cut more deeply than those inflicted within families. The longing for parental approval remains one of the strongest desires of the human heart. To be misunderstood by one’s own father can become a lifelong burden. Yet Francis refused to allow that wound to become the center of his identity. His identity rested instead in being the beloved son of the heavenly Father. Because he discovered this deeper sonship, he became capable of forgiving the earthly father who had failed to understand him.
Forgiveness does not erase memory. Francis undoubtedly remembered every painful conversation, every accusation, every misunderstanding. Forgiveness transforms memory by removing the poison that would otherwise continue to flow from it. The past remains, but it no longer dictates the future. The wound remains visible, yet it becomes a place where grace is revealed rather than resentment.
The traditions surrounding the final years of Pietro Bernardone suggest that reconciliation did eventually occur. Whether every historical detail can be verified is less important than recognizing the unmistakable direction of Francis’ heart. Nothing in his life suggests lingering hostility. Everything points toward mercy. The man who embraced lepers, reconciled feuding civic leaders, and blessed those who forgave for love of God could hardly have excluded his own father from that mercy. Francis’ life itself became the commentary on the verse he later inserted into the Canticle.
This should speak powerfully to every Franciscan today. It is possible to profess poverty while remaining rich in resentments. It is possible to embrace simplicity while carrying complicated grudges. One may wear the habit, recite the Divine Office, serve the poor, and yet preserve old injuries within the heart. Francis would recognize such contradictions immediately. True poverty includes surrendering the illusion that we possess the right to nurse hatred. Forgiveness becomes one more form of evangelical poverty because it relinquishes our claim to revenge and entrusts justice to God.
The Canticle reminds us that creation itself never ceases giving. The sun does not withhold its light because humanity has sinned. The rain does not refuse the fields because people have become selfish. Water continues to serve. Fire continues to warm. Earth continues to nourish. All creation reflects the lavish generosity of God. Human forgiveness participates in that same divine generosity. We forgive not because others deserve it but because God continues pouring His goodness upon those who have not deserved it, including ourselves.
This does not make forgiveness easy. Francis never suggested that mercy ignores suffering. The verse about forgiveness is joined immediately to bearing infirmity and tribulation. The two belong together. Only those who have suffered know the true cost of forgiving. Cheap forgiveness denies pain. Christian forgiveness acknowledges pain fully while refusing to let pain have the final word. It is not passive resignation. It is active participation in the Cross of Christ.
Francis understood that the Crucified Lord remained the measure of every act of forgiveness. The one who prayed before the crucifix at San Damiano spent his life contemplating the God who forgave while being rejected. Christ did not wait until humanity became worthy before extending mercy. He loved first. He forgave first. Francis learned that every disciple must enter the same pattern. To forgive is to imitate the crucified Christ, whose love proved stronger than violence, betrayal, and death itself.
There is another dimension of forgiveness that Francis quietly teaches. Forgiveness also restores our ability to praise. Hearts consumed by resentment cannot truly sing. They may recite prayers, but their praise remains restrained by the weight of unresolved anger. The Canticle emerged from a heart that had become spacious enough to include every creature because it excluded bitterness. Praise and forgiveness belong together because both arise from gratitude. The forgiven person becomes forgiving. The forgiving person becomes joyful. The joyful person becomes capable of praising God in every circumstance.
Our contemporary world often encourages another path. We are taught to preserve grievances as badges of identity. Injuries become defining narratives. Social divisions deepen because forgiveness appears weak or unrealistic. Francis offers a radically different witness. Strength is revealed not through domination but through mercy. Freedom is found not in winning every conflict but in surrendering hatred. Peace begins not with changing others but with allowing Christ to heal our own hearts.
Franciscan fraternity depends upon this truth. No community can survive without forgiveness. Differences in personality, misunderstandings, failures, disappointments, and human weakness inevitably arise wherever people live together. The question is not whether conflicts will occur but whether mercy will be stronger than conflict. Francis knew this from experience. Even among his beloved brothers there were tensions and disagreements. Yet he continually recalled them to humility, mutual service, and reconciliation. The fraternity existed not because everyone was perfect but because everyone depended upon the mercy of God.
The same applies to the wider human family. When Francis crossed battle lines to meet the Sultan, he demonstrated that dialogue begins with seeing another person first as a fellow creature loved by God. Forgiveness creates the possibility of encounters that fear would otherwise prevent. It breaks the endless cycle in which injury produces retaliation and retaliation produces deeper injury. Mercy interrupts history’s habit of repeating violence.
As Franciscans contemplate the Canticle today, we may ask ourselves whether our praise extends as far as Francis’ praise. It is easy to bless God for beautiful sunsets. It is more difficult to bless Him through those who forgive. Yet Francis deliberately included them because he knew that reconciled humanity is among God’s most beautiful creations. Every act of forgiveness becomes another verse in the ongoing canticle of creation. Every restored relationship adds another harmony to the song of the universe.
Francis’ forgiveness of Pietro Bernardone becomes especially significant because it reveals that holiness begins close to home. It is easier to forgive humanity in the abstract than particular people whose words have wounded us deeply. The father who misunderstood him represented not merely one difficult relationship but the deepest personal trial of Francis’ early life. By forgiving there, Francis learned to forgive everywhere. The grace received in one relationship expanded until it embraced all creation.
The Canticle concludes by praising those who endure in peace and those whom Sister Death finds living in God’s grace. There is profound wisdom here. Death cannot frighten those who have already surrendered resentment. They have died daily to pride, vengeance, and possessiveness. They have learned that nothing truly belongs to them except the love they have received from God and shared with others. Such people can welcome Sister Death because they have already entered the freedom of the Kingdom.
Francis leaves us not simply with beautiful words but with a demanding invitation. He asks us to look upon creation with reverence, upon suffering with trust, upon enemies with mercy, and upon God with unending praise. He reminds us that forgiveness is not separate from contemplation but one of its highest expressions. The contemplative heart sees the world as God sees it, and God always sees beyond sin toward redemption. To forgive is therefore to participate in the very vision of God.
May we learn from Francis that every creature points us toward the Creator, every wound can become a place of grace, every relationship can be touched by mercy, and every act of forgiveness restores something of the original harmony for which creation longs. May we discover that the Canticle is not only a hymn to the beauty of the world but also a summons to become instruments of reconciliation within it. Then our lives, like the life of the Poor Man of Assisi, will become living songs in which Brother Sun shines more brightly because hatred has been relinquished, Sister Water flows more clearly because bitterness has been washed away, and every human heart becomes capable of joining the eternal praise of the Father through the Son in the joy of the Holy Spirit.
What a wonderful legacy we have been left in the charism of the Poverello of Assisi! If only we would realize the power that what we believe has in transforming each person! Charism is a “gift” that is freely given by God to envelop us with His love and encourage us to let go and let God lift us above and beyond the mundane and enter an experience that only grace can offer.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
NB-There is no reliable source to date that speaks of a formal forgiveness and acceptance of forgiveness between Francis and Pietro. Francis’ actions speak of a forgiveness granted by his interaction with all creation, people included, thus, even to his father who in the sources seems never to have formally asked or accepted forgiveness of his son.
Posted By Teresa Redder, on July 1st, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
July 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis of Assisi,
The meeting between Saint Francis of Assisi and Lucchesio and Buonadonna, often called Buona, occupies a treasured place in the Franciscan tradition. Whether every detail of the account has come down with complete historical precision or through the loving memory of the early fraternity, its spiritual truth has shaped the identity of the Secular Franciscans for more than eight centuries. In this encounter we see Francis discovering that the Gospel life entrusted to him was not intended only for friars living in community but was also meant for ordinary Christian men and women living in the world. It was a moment that expanded the horizons of the Franciscan movement and revealed that holiness is possible in every state of life.
Lucchesio was a successful merchant from Poggibonsi in Tuscany. Like many prosperous merchants of his time, he had been deeply involved in business, trade, and the pursuit of wealth. His wife, Buona, shared his life and responsibilities. Their marriage reflected many of the ambitions common to the growing merchant class of medieval Italy. Success, financial security, social standing, and careful management of possessions occupied much of their attention. Yet beneath outward prosperity there remained a spiritual hunger that material success could never satisfy.
The age in which they lived was one of remarkable change. Commerce was transforming society. Towns were growing rapidly, wealth was becoming concentrated in new social classes, and people increasingly measured success by possessions and influence. At the same time, many Christians longed for a more authentic Gospel life. They admired the apostles and desired a simpler faith rooted in prayer, charity, and trust in God. Francis himself had experienced this longing after his conversion. Having abandoned wealth and status, he had embraced Lady Poverty and discovered an unexpected freedom. His joyful witness became impossible to ignore.
When Lucchesio and Buona encountered Francis, they were not simply meeting another religious teacher. They were meeting someone whose entire life testified to the possibility of radical trust in Christ. Francis possessed no wealth, sought no earthly honor, and exercised no political power. Yet people sensed an extraordinary authority in him because his words and actions were perfectly united. His poverty was not misery but freedom. His humility was not weakness but strength. His joy was not superficial happiness but the fruit of intimate friendship with God.
One of the remarkable aspects of the encounter is that Francis did not ask Lucchesio and Buona to abandon their marriage or separate from one another. In medieval spirituality, there could sometimes be an assumption that those who desired greater holiness should leave ordinary life for the monastery or religious community. Francis recognized something different. God had called this husband and wife together. Their marriage itself could become a path to sanctity.
This insight reveals Francis’ profoundly evangelical understanding of vocation. Holiness is determined not primarily by one’s external state in life but by faithful response to God’s call. Every baptized Christian receives the invitation to follow Christ. Some are called to priesthood, others to religious life, still others to marriage or the single state. None of these vocations is spiritually inferior. Each becomes holy through generous love.
Francis therefore did not attempt to make Lucchesio into a friar or Buona into a Poor Clare. Instead, he helped them become more fully what God had already called them to be. This approach demonstrated extraordinary wisdom. He understood that grace perfects rather than destroys the responsibilities God has already entrusted to us. Grace builds on nature (Thos.Aquinas). The glory of God is the human person fully realized (St. Iraeneus).
The conversion of Lucchesio and Buona illustrates that authentic conversion always begins in the heart before it transforms external circumstances. They did not merely adopt new religious practices. Their entire way of seeing the world changed. Wealth became a means of serving the poor rather than increasing personal comfort. Their home became a place of hospitality instead of self-protection. Their marriage became a partnership in discipleship rather than simply a shared household.
Francis understood that possessions themselves are not the ultimate problem. The greater danger lies in allowing possessions to possess the human heart. Lucchesio gradually learned to hold material goods with open hands. Detachment allowed generosity to flourish. Charity replaced selfish accumulation. Simplicity replaced restless ambition.
Their transformation reminds Christians that conversion is rarely an isolated event. Rather, it unfolds gradually through countless daily decisions. Every act of forgiveness, every generous gift, every patient sacrifice, and every moment of prayer shapes the heart into the likeness of Christ. Francis encouraged precisely this daily conversion rather than dramatic displays of holiness.
Equally important was the effect of this encounter upon Buona herself. Too often medieval history focuses primarily upon male figures while overlooking the indispensable witness of holy women. Yet Buona was not merely the wife of Lucchesio. She freely embraced the Gospel life alongside her husband. Their vocation became mutual. They encouraged one another toward holiness.
This mutual sanctification reflects the deepest meaning of Christian marriage. Husband and wife are not simply companions through earthly life. They become fellow pilgrims helping one another reach eternal life. Every sacrifice offered for the other’s good becomes an act of worship. Every forgiveness granted becomes participation in Christ’s mercy. Every shared prayer strengthens the domestic church.
The witness of Lucchesio and Buona also teaches that holiness grows through ordinary faithfulness. They were not missionaries crossing distant lands or theologians writing profound books. They remained within society, interacting daily with neighbors, merchants, travelers, laborers, and the poor. Their sanctity emerged through ordinary relationships transformed by extraordinary charity.
Francis recognized that the world desperately needed holy lay people. Friars could preach in churches and marketplaces, but countless homes, workshops, businesses, and families required witnesses who lived permanently within those environments. Lay Franciscans would become the Gospel’s presence where friars could not remain.
This insight proved revolutionary. The Franciscan movement would eventually embrace three complementary expressions. Friars would proclaim the Gospel through itinerant preaching and fraternity. Poor Clares would sustain the Church through contemplative prayer. Secular Franciscans would sanctify ordinary society by living the Gospel within family life, professional work, civic responsibility, and daily relationships. Together these vocations revealed the fullness of Franciscan spirituality.
The encounter therefore transformed not only one married couple but also the future of the Franciscan family. Without holy lay followers, Franciscan spirituality might have remained confined within monasteries and friaries. Instead, it entered villages, cities, marketplaces, farms, homes, and every corner of society.
Another important dimension of this meeting is the relationship between contemplation and action. Francis never separated prayer from charity. Lucchesio and Buona learned that love of God naturally overflows into love of neighbor. Their prayer deepened their generosity. Their generosity enriched their prayer. Each strengthened the other.
This balance remains essential today. Prayer without service can become self-centered. Service without prayer can become exhausting activism. Francis invited his followers to unite both dimensions so that every act of charity springs from communion with Christ.
The simplicity embraced by Lucchesio and Buona did not mean neglecting responsibilities. Rather, simplicity reordered priorities. God came first. Family became sacred. Work became honest service. Wealth became stewardship. Time became a gift rather than a possession. Every aspect of life acquired new meaning because Christ occupied its center.
The fruits of this transformation extended beyond their own household. Neighbors observed changed behavior. The poor experienced unexpected generosity. Conflicts diminished. Hospitality increased. Their witness became a quiet but powerful form of evangelization.
Francis understood that the credibility of the Gospel depends less upon eloquent speeches than upon transformed lives. People may question theological arguments, but genuine charity possesses undeniable persuasive power. A peaceful family, an honest merchant, a forgiving spouse, and generous hospitality preach the Gospel every day.
The encounter also demonstrates Francis’ remarkable gift of spiritual discernment. He did not impose identical practices upon everyone. Instead, he recognized each person’s unique vocation. Some were called to radical itinerant poverty. Others served Christ within established responsibilities. Unity did not require uniformity.
This flexibility has remained one of the enduring strengths of Franciscan spirituality. Its essential principles remain constant while their expression adapts to different circumstances. Every age presents new challenges, yet the Gospel remains unchanged. Francis taught people to discover how eternal truths illuminate contemporary life.
For the Secular Franciscan tradition, Lucchesio and Buona became enduring symbols of lay holiness. They remind every professed Secular Franciscan that profession is not a lesser imitation of religious life but a genuine vocation within the Church. The secular vocation possesses its own dignity, responsibilities, and mission.
The effects of their encounter continue into the present. Across centuries, countless married couples, single adults, widows, widowers, professionals, laborers, teachers, physicians, artisans, farmers, and countless others have discovered through the Secular Franciscan vocation that ordinary life can become extraordinary through faithful discipleship. They have demonstrated that workplaces can become places of ministry, homes can become schools of charity, and daily responsibilities can become offerings pleasing to God.
Modern society resembles the commercial world in which Lucchesio first lived. Success is frequently measured by productivity, income, influence, and possessions. Many people experience exhaustion from endless competition and consumerism. Francis still speaks through the witness of Lucchesio and Buona, reminding Christians that true fulfillment comes not through acquiring more but through loving more.
Their example challenges contemporary Christians to examine their own attachments. What occupies our thoughts? What determines our decisions? What gives us security? Francis gently directs every disciple back to Christ as the only lasting treasure.
Their story also reveals that authentic reform begins with individuals. Francis did not begin by attempting to change political structures or social institutions. He invited people to personal conversion. Converted individuals then transformed families. Renewed families strengthened communities. Renewed communities enriched the Church. The greatest revolutions in history often begin with quiet fidelity rather than dramatic public action.
Perhaps the deepest meaning of this encounter lies in the discovery that God’s call is always personal. Francis did not see merely a wealthy merchant and his wife. He saw beloved children of God capable of heroic holiness. He recognized possibilities hidden even from themselves. Through encouragement, example, and spiritual guidance, he helped awaken gifts already planted within their hearts by divine grace.
This remains the mission of every Christian mentor and spiritual guide. Rather than creating dependence, true spiritual leadership helps others discover God’s unique call. Francis pointed beyond himself toward Christ. His joy attracted others not because he sought followers for himself but because he desired every soul to know the love of God.
The meeting between Francis, Lucchesio, and Buona therefore stands as an enduring testimony to the universal call to holiness. It proclaims that sanctity belongs not only to monasteries and convents but also to kitchens, workshops, marketplaces, schools, offices, hospitals, and homes. Every place where Christ is loved becomes holy ground.
The effects of that encounter continue to echo through every generation of the Franciscan family. Whenever a married couple prays together, whenever a business owner acts honestly despite financial sacrifice, whenever a family welcomes the poor, whenever someone chooses simplicity over greed, forgiveness over resentment, or generosity over selfishness, the spirit of that first meeting lives again.
Francis did more than change the lives of Lucchesio and Buona. He revealed a vision of the Church in which every baptized person has a mission, every vocation has dignity, and every circumstance of life can become a path toward perfect charity. Their encounter became a seed planted in fertile soil. That seed grew into a worldwide Franciscan family whose branches extend across every continent and every walk of life. It continues to bear fruit wherever men and women discover that following Christ wholeheartedly does not always require leaving the world behind, but rather transforming the world from within through humility, joy, peace, mercy, simplicity, and faithful love.
The Church needs the witness of faith-filled committed witnesses today as much as ever. The Church needs lay men and women who are deeply rooted in prayer while fully engaged in the world. It needs people who bring the spirit of the Gospel into all walks of daily life in society. The Secular Franciscan vocation prepares ordinary Catholics to become extraordinary witnesses through the ordinary events of life.
In every age the Church needs people who remind the world that holiness is possible, that peace can overcome hatred, that mercy is stronger than revenge, and that love is greater than fear. The Secular Franciscan vocation continues to respond to this need. The brothers and sisters of our Secular Franciscan Family, through its unique place in the Church, its recognized canonical status, its lifelong profession, its strong spiritual foundation, and its faithful witness in everyday life, remains one of the Church’s great treasures.
St. Francis called himself and “idiota”. It was his “foolishness” that opened eyes and hearts to a treasure that only a fool for the sake of Christ (1 Corinthians 4: 10) could discover and be “foolish enough” to give it all to others, without ever losing more to give! Those who faithfully live this vocation become living signs of the Gospel, carrying the spirit of St. Francis into the heart of the world and helping all people see more clearly the face of Christ
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
PS – It was time that we gave Lucchesio and BuonDonna a kind and grateful remembrance. Their desire and St. Francis’ prayer were realized in each other when our Seraphic Father vested them as the first “Tertiaries” of the Franciscan Family. Do you ever pray to them?
Posted By Teresa Redder, on June 11th, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
June 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
The Lord bless you with His peace!
St. Francis of Assisi stands in Christian history as one of the most luminous witnesses to the mystery of God’s self‑sacrificing love, a love that finds its most concentrated and symbolic expression in the devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus. Although Francis lived centuries before the formal development of the Sacred Heart devotion, his life, spirituality, and writings reveal a profound intuitive grasp of the same truth: that the Heart of Christ is the burning center of divine charity, poured out for humanity in total self‑giving. To contemplate Francis is to contemplate a man who allowed himself to be shaped entirely by the love that flows from the pierced Heart of the Savior, and to contemplate the Sacred Heart is to contemplate the divine source that animated Francis’s radical poverty, humility, and compassion. The two themes, therefore, are not separate but mutually illuminating, each revealing the depth of the other.
Francis’s journey begins with his encounter with the crucified Christ, an encounter that transformed him from a pleasure‑seeking youth into a man consumed by the desire to imitate Jesus in every aspect of life. The moment before the San Damiano crucifix, when Francis heard the words Rebuild my Church, marks not only the beginning of his mission but also the beginning of his lifelong immersion into the mystery of Christ’s suffering love. The crucifix he prayed before depicted Christ not in agony but in serene majesty, yet still wounded, still offering himself. This image profoundly shaped Francis’s understanding of divine love: a love that suffers, a love that gives itself without reserve, a love that remains open even when pierced. In this sense, Francis’s spirituality already contains the essential elements of the Sacred Heart devotion, which centers on the wounded yet radiant Heart of Jesus as the symbol of God’s boundless mercy.
The Sacred Heart is, at its core, a revelation of God’s interior life. It is not merely a symbol of emotion but a symbol of the divine will to love, even unto death. When Jesus’ Heart is pierced on the cross and blood and water flow out, the Gospel of John presents this as the culminating moment of salvation, the moment when Christ’s love is fully revealed. Francis, who meditated constantly on the Passion, understood this intuitively. His writings show a man who saw in the crucified Christ the very definition of love. He urged his followers to look at the humility of God and to contemplate the One who gives Himself entirely in the Eucharist and on the cross. For Francis, the cross was not simply a historical event but a living reality, a present outpouring of divine love that demanded a response of total surrender.
This surrender took the form of radical poverty, which Francis embraced not as an ideology but as a way of participating in Christ’s self‑emptying. The Sacred Heart devotion emphasizes the emptying (kenosis) of Christ, the self‑emptying love that led Him to take on human flesh and to endure suffering for the sake of humanity. Francis’s poverty mirrors this divine kenosis. By stripping himself of possessions, status, and even personal security, Francis sought to imitate the humility of Christ, who though he was rich, became poor for our sake (2Corinthians8:9). Poverty for Francis was not deprivation but freedom—the freedom to love as Christ loves, without clinging to anything. It was a way of making space in his own heart for the love that flows from the Heart of Jesus.
Francis’s love for the poor, the sick, and the marginalized also reflects the compassion of the Sacred Heart. The Heart of Jesus is often depicted as aflame, surrounded by thorns, and pierced, signifying both the intensity of divine love and the pain that love endures. Francis lived this compassion in concrete ways. His embrace of the leper, which he once found repulsive, became a turning point in his conversion. In the leper, Francis encountered Christ Himself, and in that encounter he discovered that true love requires vulnerability, sacrifice, and the willingness to suffer with others. This is precisely the message of the Sacred Heart: that God’s love is not distant or abstract but deeply involved in human suffering. The Heart of Jesus is wounded because it loves; Francis’s heart became Christ-like because he allowed himself to be wounded by the suffering of others.
The culmination of Francis’s conformity to Christ came in the stigmata he received on Mount La Verna. This extraordinary event, in which Francis bore in his own body the wounds of Christ, is perhaps the most striking parallel to the Sacred Heart devotion. The stigmata is not merely a physical phenomenon but a mystical union with the suffering love of Jesus. Francis did not seek the stigmata; he sought only to love Christ completely. The wounds were the divine response to that desire, a sign that Francis had become so united to the Heart of Jesus that he shared in the very marks of His love. The Sacred Heart, too, is a wounded heart, and the wounds are not signs of defeat but signs of love’s triumph. In Francis, the wounds of Christ become visible again in the world, reminding all who see him that divine love is not an idea but a reality that takes flesh.
The Sacred Heart devotion, which developed more fully in the centuries after Francis, especially through the visions of St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, emphasizes reparation for sin and the call to love Christ in return for His love. Francis lived this long before it was articulated. His life was a continual act of reparation, not in a punitive sense but in a relational one. He sought to console the Heart of Jesus by loving Him with purity, by living the Gospel without compromise, and by drawing others into the same love. His preaching was not harsh or condemnatory but filled with joy, urging people to turn back to God because God is love. Francis understood that sin wounds the Heart of Jesus not because God is offended in a human sense but because sin separates us from the love that God longs to give. His mission, therefore, was to heal that separation by calling people to conversion, reconciliation, and peace.
The Sacred Heart also emphasizes the Eucharist as the living presence of Christ’s self‑sacrificing love. Francis’s devotion to the Eucharist was intense and reverent. He saw in the consecrated Host the same Christ who hung on the cross, the same Heart that continues to pour out love for humanity. He wrote with awe about the humility of God, who hides Himself under the appearance of bread and wine:
Let the entire man be seized with fear; let the whole world tremble;
let heaven exult when Christ, the Son of the Living God,
is on the altar in the hands of the priest.
O admirable height and stupendous condescension! O humble sublimity! O sublime humility!
that the Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God,
so humbles Himself that for our salvation He hides Himself under a morsel of bread.
For Francis, the Eucharist was not a ritual but a relationship, a moment of intimate union with the One who gives Himself entirely. This Eucharistic devotion aligns perfectly with the theology of the Sacred Heart, which sees the Eucharist as the sacrament of divine love, the place where the Heart of Jesus continues to beat for the world.
Francis’s Canticle of the Creatures, often seen as a hymn to nature, is also an expression of his understanding of divine love. He saw all creation as a reflection of the goodness of God, a goodness that flows from the divine Heart. The Sacred Heart devotion teaches that God’s love is the source of all life, sustaining and renewing the world. Francis’s joyful praise of Brother Sun, Sister Moon, and all creatures is rooted in his awareness that everything exists because it is loved by God. His ecological sensitivity, centuries ahead of its time, arises from his contemplation of the Creator’s love, a love that is generous, overflowing, and self‑giving.
The connection between Francis and the Sacred Heart becomes even clearer when considering his approach to peace and reconciliation. The Heart of Jesus is often invoked as the source of peace, a peace that comes from the healing of relationships, between God and humanity, and among people themselves. Francis embodied this peace in his interactions with others, including his famous meeting with the Sultan during the Crusades. He approached the Sultan not with hostility but with respect and openness, seeking dialogue rather than conflict. This attitude reflects the Heart of Jesus, who seeks to reconcile rather than divide, who loves even enemies, and who desires unity among all people. Francis’s peacemaking is therefore another expression of the divine love that flows from the Sacred Heart.
In contemplating Francis and the Sacred Heart together, one sees a profound harmony. Francis is, in a sense, the human echo of the divine Heart. His life makes visible what the Sacred Heart symbolizes: a love that gives everything, holds nothing back, and embraces all creation. The Sacred Heart reveals the inner life of God; Francis reveals what that love looks like when lived by a human being fully surrendered to grace. The two together offer a powerful vision of Christian discipleship, one that calls believers not merely to admire Christ’s love but to participate in it.
This participation requires transformation. The Sacred Heart devotion invites believers to allow their own hearts to be shaped by the Heart of Jesus, to become more compassionate, more humble, more willing to sacrifice for others. Francis shows that this transformation is possible. He was not born a saint; he became one through continual conversion, through daily choices to love, forgive, and serve. His example challenges modern Christians to examine their own lives and to ask whether they are allowing the love of Christ to penetrate their hearts. The Sacred Heart is not a distant ideal but a living reality that seeks to enter the human heart and make it new.
In a world marked by violence, division, and indifference, the message of the Sacred Heart and the example of St. Francis are urgently needed. They remind us that love is not weakness but strength, that humility is not humiliation but freedom, and that sacrifice is not loss but gain. The Heart of Jesus continues to beat with love for humanity, and Francis continues to inspire those who seek to follow Christ more closely. Together, they offer a path toward healing, reconciliation, and peace, a path that begins in the heart and radiates outward into the world.
May the gentle spirit of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi and our Holy Mother St. Clare of Assisi guide our hearts in peace and trust. In the Sacred Heart of Jesus, may we all find strength, healing, and renewed hope. In that Heart opened for love of us, may we enter the loving embrace of the Father’s Love and be filled with the gifts of His Holy Spirit to be Pilgrims of Hope in our world.
You and your loved ones will be remembered in my prayers each day. Your intentions will also be with me during Mass. May God’s tender love and mercy surround us all.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, OFM Cap
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Posted By Teresa Redder, on May 12th, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
May 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis of Assisi,
The Paraclete of Divine Presence, The Pardon of Divine Mercy, The Peace of Divine Love
Be the Easter Gifts that remain forever in your hearts,
with Mary’s Motherly Love to encourage you.
The Month of May always rekindles in the heart the loving devotion the Church has always expressed for Mary, Mother of Jesus and our Holy Mother. The saints of “both lungs” of the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church of our Eastern Rite and Orthodox sisters and brothers as well as we of the Western Roman Rite Church have praised our Most Blessed Mother in so many ways. In the Northern part of the World, May speaks of new life, rebirth, beauty of God’s kaleidoscope of colors in nature. The Paschal Mystery of Easter-Pentecost that celebrates the Church born from the side of Christ and our Mother Mary, birthing us in her Faith as She accepted the “impossible” and brought centuries of anticipation to an end with the mystery of the Virgin-Birth of Jesus.
Is it any wonder that St. Francis of Assisi, our Seraphic Father, the Poverello of Assisi, should be “overwhelmed” just by the thought of the Incarnation of Jesus, the unique collaboration of Mary, and how She, one of us, becomes the “Virgin-Made-Church”. The title given by Francis is uniquely Hers, but we share with our Mother. For in Faith, through Baptism, especially when we receive the Eucharist bring the Lord into the secret recesses of our body and soul (the Tabernacle) and then, by grace and the prompting of the Holy Spirit, Manifest Him to the world as we live the One we have sought to become in the Eucharist – Conformity to Christ, one with Christ, is living Jesus.
Mary is the highest honor of our race and greatest example among human beings of all this. She gave birth to Jesus in the secret of her womb when She gave her unconditional “Yes” to God’s request through the Archangel Gabriel. Thus She became the first true Tabernacle of the hidden and Real Presence. Yet, almost immediately, Mary becomes the First Monstrance and shows and offers Jesus, born in the poverty of Bethlehem, to poor Shepherds, wealthy Magi, ancient Temple Rites, up to the ultimate moment when a Mother offers Her Son to the Eternal Will of the Father as Her Son hung upon the Cross. To the end, Mary said “Yes” without hesitation, regardless of the personal price placed on a Mother’s Heart.
Is it any wonder that St. Francis of Assisi should express such love and praise for Mary in his life and to the religious Family God inspired him to initiate. An interesting expression St. Francis used in a prayer recited daily as an introduction to his Office of the Passion greets Mary as Virgin-Made-Church.
St. Francis of Assisi had a way of speaking about holy things that felt less like a scholar lecturing and more like a friend pointing out something beautiful you might have missed. His title for Mary—“the Virgin made Church”—is one of those phrases that sounds simple at first, almost like a poetic flourish, until you sit with it long enough for its layers to unfold. Francis was not trying to invent a new Marian doctrine. He was trying to express something he had seen in prayer, something that had seized his heart: that Mary, in her very being, shows us what the Church is meant to be. And he said it in the way he said most things—directly, humbly, and with a kind of spiritual common sense that makes you wonder why you never thought of it that way yourself.
When Francis calls Mary “Virgin,” he is not merely referring to a biological fact. He is pointing to her radical openness to God, her uncluttered interior space, her freedom from anything that would block the divine initiative. Virginity, for Francis, is about availability. It is about being so empty of self‑assertion that God can do something new in you. And when he calls her “Church,” he is not thinking of an institution or a hierarchy or even a community in the sociological sense. He is thinking of the Church as the place where Christ becomes present in the world. Mary is the first to receive Christ, the first to bear him, the first to give him to others. In her, the mystery of the Church begins in miniature.
Often, in households of the past, those who cooked for the family had special containers for specific items – and God help anyone who used them for anything else. These items were never used unless for the purpose they were intended. These jars or whatever, were always empty, not because they were not to be used but because they were ready for the day required—mixing dough, holding fruit, catching vegetables from the garden. Mary is like that container. She is empty so she can be filled, and she is filled so she can be given. That is the kind of image Francis would have loved. Mary’s virginity is not a static purity but a dynamic readiness. Her motherhood is not a private privilege but a public gift. And the Church, if it is to be what it claims to be, must learn from her.
Francis saw this connection most clearly in the mystery of the Incarnation. For him, the whole Christian life begins with the astonishing fact that God chose to become small. He loved to meditate on the humility of Christ in the manger, the vulnerability of God wrapped in swaddling clothes. And he understood that this humility was not only Christ’s but Mary’s as well. She allowed God to become small in her. She made room for the infinite. She let the Word take flesh. In that sense, she is the prototype of every believer. What happened in her physically must happen in us spiritually. Christ must be conceived in us, grow in us, and be brought forth into the world through our actions. That is why Francis can say that we, too, are mothers of Christ when we carry him in our hearts and give birth to him through our works of love.
Years ago, a Franciscan sister described Mary’s virginity in a way that would have made Francis smile. She said that Mary’s virginity was like the silence before a beautiful piece of music begins. It wasn’t emptiness for its own sake. It was a space charged with expectancy, a readiness for something divine to break in. That is how Francis understood virginity, not as a negation but as a capacity, a freedom from anything that would crowd out God’s voice. Mary’s virginity was the soil in which the Word could take root. And the Church, if it is to be faithful, must cultivate that same interior spaciousness.
Mary is the first and fullest example of this mystery, and so she becomes the mirror in which the Church sees its own identity. When Francis calls her “Virgin made Church,” he is saying that the Church is most itself when it resembles Mary, when it listens before it speaks, receives before it acts, treasures the Word before it teaches it. The Church is not primarily a structure or a system but a womb, a place where Christ can take flesh again and again in the lives of believers. Mary shows us what that looks like in its purest form.
For Francis, the Incarnation was not a distant event. It was something he expected to see traces of everywhere—in the poor, in the Eucharist, in the fragile beauty of creation, and especially in the maternal tenderness of Mary. She was the one who first held the mystery, and she continues to hold it in the life of the Church. To call her “Virgin made Church” is to say that the Church is born from her yes, shaped by her faith, and sustained by her example.
This title also carries a challenge. If Mary is the model of the Church, then the Church must imitate her humility, her poverty of spirit, her willingness to let God lead. Francis was never shy about reminding Christians of this. He believed the Church becomes less itself when it becomes self‑protective, self‑important, or self‑sufficient. Mary shows another way. She does not cling to control. She does not seek status. She simply receives, trusts, and gives. And in doing so, she becomes the dwelling place of God.
Francis probably loved this title because it kept the Church grounded. It reminded believers that holiness is not complicated. It begins with listening, with making space, with saying yes to God in the ordinary circumstances of life. Mary did not perform miracles or preach sermons. She welcomed the Word. She carried him. She offered him to the world. That is the heart of the Church’s mission, and it is the heart of every Christian’s vocation.
Calling Mary “the Virgin made Church” is not just a theological statement. It is an invitation. It invites the Church to rediscover its identity not in power or prestige but in humility, receptivity, and maternal love. It invites each believer to become a place where Christ can dwell. It invites us to say yes to God in the concrete circumstances of our lives, just as Mary did in hers.
Francis knew that the Church is always in need of renewal. But he also knew that renewal does not begin with strategies or structures. It begins with holiness. It begins with hearts that resemble Mary’s, open, trusting, and ready to receive Christ anew. Mary is the Church in its purest form, and the Church becomes more itself the more it becomes like her.
In the end, “Virgin made Church” is Francis’s way of saying that Mary is not just the mother of Jesus; she is the mother of all who belong to him. She is the first home of Christ and the first image of what his home on earth, the Church, is meant to be. And like all good mothers, she teaches not by demanding but by embodying. She shows us what it looks like to let God’s life unfold in us. She shows us how to become, in our own small way, a place where Christ can be born again.
May Mary, Virgin-Made-Church and thus Mother of the Church, accompany us through life’s journey. We take refuge in Her Motherly embrace as we seek to conform ourselves to the image and likeness of Her Son. We are the Church called to be the Mystical Body of Christ and Heralds of Hope who “Live Jesus” that He may be alive in all who accept Him as Lord and Savior, and that they proclaim with Thomas: “My Lord and My God!”.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Posted By Teresa Redder, on February 1st, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
February 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
May the Lord grant you peace!
In the Spring of 1207, while in the woods of Monte Subasio, Saint Francis was accosted by several thieves. They asked Francis who he was and he replied simply, I am the herald of the great King! We know the story: they stripped him of his tunic, threw him into a ditch, and went away amused at the self-aggrandizing words of this “lunatic”. Francis was untroubled at the harsh treatment given him. Our Seraphic Father truly an example for all his children-to-be got up and cheerfully continued his way. Eccentric to say the least! … but truly in love with God and life so that even harsh treatment could not destroy the inner peace and joy he was discovering more deeply every day.
His response to the brigands was based on a profound conviction that the Lord had spoken to him from the Cross of San Damiano charging him to rebuild my Church, for as you can see it is falling into ruin. St. Francis understood these words literally. His “job” was to rebuild churches. He was the divinely-appointed ecclesiastical architect and general contractor. Actually, it is not far-fetched to give him these titles. The day would come when he would be the “architect” of a whole new way of life and build the Family of the Penitents of Assisi with the lives and love of those “living stones”, who eventually would follow the example of the Poverello of Assisi. The Providence of God would take care of his needs. The good people of Assisi and so many others would be the all-providing hand of God for this young “penitent” who had embraced his fears, kissed the leper, and given all that possessed him back to the world. He threw himself with abandon into the loving arms of his Father in heaven.
St. Francis was a “man on a mission”, a mission yet to be defined, but one that he did not hesitate to begin, leaving all the specifics up to God. How wonderful our lives would be if only we would be that trusting of God! We trust human beings, erratic as they or we can be, and yet we find difficulty trusting God, Whose love is everlasting! (Psalm 136). Go figure! The work of rebuilding churches with the sweat of his brow and strength of his own limbs caught the attention of many, especially the elite of Assisi society. Francis, as they, was accustomed to be catered to in his whims, though there was a tender spot in his heart for those less fortunate on the lower rung of the social ladder.
Whatever the reason, it seemed he captured the attention of everyone. All were aware of Francis. He had caused excitement and consternation among the populace of Assisi. True leadership seems to demand a definite response: yes or no, accept or reject, adhere or detach, follow or leave. Any who encountered Francis Bernardone, and knew of his previous life as the fair-haired-son of the self-made wealthy merchant, could not remain indifferent to the transformation before them.
Except for the presence and support of an unknown friend, St. Francis was relatively alone in the first years of his new life. No doubt there were many questions and personal difficulties he would have to overcome. He struggled with the “demons” within and the difficulties without, as any of us do during a lifetime. With the help of divine grace, he sought to become the new wine and new wineskin (Matthew 9:14-17, Mark 2:18-22, Luke 5:33-39). He did not seek to establish a new Order in the Church, but to establish order in his life. His cheerful character and determination, his acceptance of voluntary poverty to avoid the entanglements that our possessions so often cause us, his deep love and concern for the “refuse” of society numbering himself among them, were only a few of the characteristics of this “new person” Francis was becoming more decisively each day. And these all served as “magnets” that attracted so many in those first few years to follow his example. They too would eventually become “heralds of the great King”.
Emphasizing the word “herald” is important. Heralds were trusted people charged with a given mission. They spoke in the name of the other. They did not wield the authority. They did however yield to the authority of God’s Word. They spoke in the name of One whose words were to be repeated verbatim, and to Whose Word they were to be conformed.
Jesus Himself speaks of the attitude of His “heralds”. He tells us not to worry when we are questioned regarding the >Good News= we are commissioned to proclaim to the world. Speaking in the name of Jesus and witnessing our allegiance to Him, Jesus tells us: Do not be afraid of what you are to say or how you are to say, the Spirit of my Father will be speaking in you (Matthew 10: 19). Because the heralds were trusted people entrusted with the words of their master, an integrity and credibility were bestowed upon the herald by the mere fact of the office they fulfilled and by the one whom they were delegated to represent, and in whose name, they delivered their message. A herald spoke from a source beyond himself. He spoke with certainty. Thus, the herald spoke with unquestionable authority. In this sense, St. Francis was a true herald. He proclaimed the words of the Master and lived them.
In the First Life of St. Francis written by Blessed Thomas of Celano, we read that in winter (February) of 1209: Francis went to another place, which is called the Portiuncula … When on a certain day the Gospel was read in that church, how the Lord sent his disciples out to preach, the holy man of God, assisting there, understood somewhat the words of the Gospel; after Mass he humbly asked the priest to explain the Gospel to him more fully … Francis, hearing that the disciples of Christ should not possess gold or silver or money; nor carry along the way scrip, or wallet, or bread, or a staff; that they should not have shoes, or two tunics; but that they should preach the kingdom of God and penance, immediately cried out exultingly: This is what I wish, this is what I seek, this is what I long to do with all my heart. The holy father, overflowing with joy, hastened to implement the words of salvation, and did not delay before he devoutly began to put into effect what he heard. … For he was no deaf hearer of the gospel … He then began to preach penance to all with a fervent spirit and joyful attitude … His word like a blazing fire, reaching the deepest parts of the heart and filling the souls of all with wonder… In all his preaching, before he presented the word of God to the assembly, he prayed for peace saying, May the Lord give you peace … Many who hated peace, with the Lord’s help wholeheartedly embraced peace. They became children of peace. (1 Celano, 21-24)
God=s word was no idle spiritual devotion for Francis. It was the guiding factor in his life. As God spoke, so Francis sought to do. When our Seraphic Father heard the words of the Gospel on that grace-filled day, his concerns and questions were answered. It seemed as though God Himself were saying to Francis: ‘Abandon worries and concern for tomorrow in the hands of the One Who provides for every moment and without Whom nothing can be. Trust. Do not be afraid=. He preached this profound message to others more by actions than by words. His simplicity and childlike trust in the Providence of God attracted others to follow his example.
Friars and Sisters who lived in formal religious houses and monasteries gave a powerful witness of total detachment. There were also men and women, our brothers and sisters, who could not leave their families and/or responsibilities in society. They deeply desired and sought to live this powerful witness to the gospel life in their daily secular experiences. They became the yeast kneaded into the dough, the light placed on a candelabra (Matthew 13:33).
The Gospel is a call offered to everyone willing to listen and to follow. The more we faithfully listen to the Word within, the better we are empowered to respond to a world that surrounds us. Give priority to God and trust in His all-providing and all-loving Presence, and life will be fulfilled beyond your desires. The famous statement of St. Iraeneus: The glory of God is the human being fully realized. Is a powerful and encouraging reminder of grace that builds on nature. Conformed to the Person of Christ is the ultimate realization for a Christian who in, with, and through Him (Doxology after Eucharistic Prayer) lets go of everything and lets God “take over”.
As spiritual children of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi, let us remember the power the Word of God exercised in his life and that should exercise in our own. St. Francis expected the Rule, Testament, and the life of the Gospel as origin and consequence to be lived “without gloss”. Let us read the Word and listen to It with our heart. When necessary, ask clarifications, as St. Francis did, to enlighten you that you may better understand what the Lord is saying to you through His Word.
St. Francis is that man with a disarmed heart, as he was called by the Sicilian Bishops several decades ago. Stand disarmed before human beings and disarmed before God and His Eternal Word. Francis wanted the brothers to live not only the Rule and Testament but also the Gospels without gloss. “Gloss” only mitigates and/or even changes the meaning as it is written by the author. Following our Seraphic Father’s example, let us always have an open and disarmed heart to the challenges God’s Word may offer us. As Heralds of the Great King, we proclaim His Word. Let the words of the Divine Word Incarnate enter your heart as He speaks to each of you personally. Matthew reminds us so powerfully in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount: Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you [falsely] because of me. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven (Matthew 5: 3-12). He reminds us: Do not be afraid. It is I (John 6: 20).
If only we realized the beauty of our Franciscan Vocation and the heights of holiness we could achieve following the example of St. Francis of Assisi! We would be able to eradicate from our lives and fraternities all that does not speak of Franciscan humility and charity. This is not “pie-in-the-sky” religiosity. Our Franciscan charism offers us the foundation for a life worth loving and living. Love must come first if we are ever to really live. Love of who we are must come first. The Church in Her leadership has always praised our Franciscan spirit and encouraged the sisters and brothers to live it fully. For this to be effective in our lives, remember the words of St. Francis that tell us how to live the life we accepted “without gloss”.
Let us let the Word take hold of our lives. Whatever God says to us in His most holy Word, let us say with Saint Francis: that is what I want with all my heart. Let the hope, trust and optimism that has its source in the Lord Himself (cfr. Romans 15: 13) overflow into the lives of all whom we encounter and to whom we minister.
May God bless you; may Our Lady and good St. Joseph guide, guard, and protect you; and may our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi and our Holy Mother St. Clare look over each one of you, his spiritual children, and your loved ones with loving care.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Happy Lent 2026
Posted By Teresa Redder, on January 7th, 2026 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
January 2026
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
The Lord bless you and keep you.
The Lord let His face shine upon you, and be gracious to you!
The Lord look upon you kindly and give you peace!
(St. Francis of Assisi)
May He live with you. May you always live with Him.
(St. Clare of Assisi adapted)
Our Seraphic Father Saint Francis of Assisi made his own particular blessing the words of God gave to Moses for Aaron to bless God’s People. The Church offers us this blessing as the first words of the Scriptures that begin the calendar year, eight days after the birthday of Jesus. Each year we invoke God=s blessing on the Church as we honor Mary the Great Mother of God and Mother of the Church, the People of God. Through Mary we received Jesus, and in Jesus we receive the Father=s blessing through His Holy Spirit at work in our hearts until the end of the ages.
The thought and image of our Blessed Mother introduces us into a new yearly experience of events that speaks profoundly about ourselves and our relationship with God and one another. Our Mother Mary is the highest honor of our race (Judith 13). Like the Judith of the Old Testament who fearlessly lead and liberated her people and of whom these words were first spoken, Mary is afforded the highest honor, and precedes and far surpasses us in faith. Her availability and courage make her the eminent model for all Christians. Through her divine maternity, she gives humanity our Redeemer, in Whose Death and Resurrection we are freed from the binding power of sin and fear. Thus we are given the possibility to live in the freedom of God=s grace, and in the light of God=s love.
On the last day of the calendar year we are reminded that every end is a new beginning. In the Gospel for that day, the Apostle John reminds us that: In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God…He came to His own and His own did not receive Him…To as many as did receive Him, He empowered to become the children of God…those begotten not by human means, but by God (John 1: 1-18). The Eternal Word entered a profound relationship with humanity at His Conception in the virginal womb of Mary. The people of Israel continued to pray for and expect the God of vindication who would reveal His power and subdue their enemies. The Word, however, entered our reality as a simple human being, subject to all the experiences of time and human nature, except sin. His identity would be so concealed that He would be rejected by many, and ultimately given an untimely death by execution.
St. John tells us that those who accepted Him would become the children of God (John 1: 12). This adoption in the Spirit allows us to say Abba, Father (Mark 14: 36). The Father sees in us an image of His Son. Jesus, the Incarnate Word of God, accepted the mission entrusted to Him by the Father to enter creation and lead us back to our original purpose. We are created to be an overflowing extension of God=s eternal love and life. And, since goodness of its very nature seeks to extend itself, and since God is the essence of goodness, then the extension of His goodness is found in creation, and we are the epitome in this world of the kaleidoscope of God=s unique yet varied image. If we only recognized and appreciated the dignity in which we were created and the majesty to which we are called! (St. Leo the Great sermon) The more we exemplify in our lives the life of the Master, the more we realize this dignity and majesty in our life. One of the purposes of the liturgy is to introduce us regularly into the experience of God through His Word and Sacrament so that we grow in our knowledge and love of God and thus accept to live more meaningful lives.
It is interesting how brief the liturgical season of Advent and Christmas is. Advent preparation lasts no more than four weeks, and the Christmas celebration of the infancy and childhood of Jesus may last three weeks. No sooner do the Magi leave the house where they offer their gifts – symbolizing love, prayer and sacrifice – to the Child Jesus, when the liturgy introduces us to the wilderness of the Baptist=s desert where in the Jordan River Jesus begins His journey to Jerusalem.
Jerusalem is the City of the Most High, where God=s Temple speaks of His mysterious presence among His People. Jerusalem is where Jesus makes His Father=s Presence known and seen in Him, the Word-made-flesh. Jerusalem is the City of Peace (Gen. 14:18; Heb. 7:2) where the Prince of Peace enters, is proclaimed, rejected, and crucified. As the journey to Jerusalem begins for Jesus, we too journey with the Infant and the Man; the Child of hope and the Man of Fulfillment; the Infant who flees in exile to safety and the Man Who confounds his enemies; the Infant who needs protection and the Man Whose miracles marvel those who benefit from them. We become one in prayer and reflection – one in the Spirit – with our Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ.
Jesus is the Promised One God offered our first parents in the Garden of Eden. He is The One Anticipated and invoked (Maranatha) for centuries in the words of the prophets and the hearts of the people. He is The One Who Bursts into Time from Eternity (cfr. 2 Corinthians 4: 16-18) when Mary says Yes (cfr. Luke 1: 38-40) to the Father=s invitation for her to be humanity=s spokesperson and Mother in His and her Son. The fulfillment of the Father=s promise and Jesus= mission reaches its climax during those few years that lead to the wood of the Cross at Calvary, prefigured in the wood of the manger at Bethlehem. One wood embraces the Infant; the other receives the Man. One wood protects the Infant; the other wood raises the Man in ignominy and glory. One wood makes people wonder in joy at the Infant; the other wood makes people responsible for their lives before the Man. One wood speaks of the beginning of a life; the other wood cries out about the beginning of Life. One wood reminds us of the doors closed to that young life; the other wood reminds us of the Doors opened for all to enter Life.
We have celebrated a brief yet powerful season. The Season that will end this month is the necessary introduction and Prologue to the rest of the Greatest Story Every Told. We have been introduced into a life that we must not only read, but become. It would be consoling and pleasant to remain in the nostalgia of the intimacy of the Infancy of Jesus. The intimacy of the Family of Nazareth speaks of normal challenges of daily life that we all encounter in one way or another. But, it is when we hear the Man, the Master, who summons us to Follow Me (all 4 Evangelists), that our life begins to have purpose and fulfillment. It is when we leave the comfort and security of the past that we begin to see new horizons and achieve greater goals than we had ever imagined. One does not discover new lands without consenting to lose sight of the shore (Andre’ Gide). We must leave the security of sight to travel in the light of trusting faith that leads where God wills.
The beginning of the calendar year is always surrounded with the idea of new beginnings. We see the new year as an opportunity to clean the slate and begin all over again. We could attempt this, but it is really impossible to do. No matter how much we may try to put past things out of our minds, they are still with us, either in our thoughts or in the circumstances of our life. Who we are depends greatly on where we have come from. And where we go depends on how we build and learn from past experiences. We cannot remain in the past. We cannot allow ourselves to be walled into a nostalgic reminiscing of historical facts. We are called to forge forward into God=s will. God’s Will provides for all who trust in Him and leads through ways often never imagined, but always fruitful for those who let Him be their Forerunner, Scout and Guide.
Dag Hammarskjold, Secretary General of the U.N. who died many years ago in a plane accident, offers us a very timely thought: We die on the day when our lives cease to be illumined by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond reason. The Source is the Father Who illumines us through His Spirit as we wonder at the magnificence of the mystery revealed in Jesus His Son. We no longer wander through life aimlessly, but are led by faith in that same Spirit. How can anyone just sit back and not be excited about the numerous possibilities God offers us each day! God calls us to proclaim His goodness with our lives and to be His heralds of hope. We are called to enkindle hope in a world that often lives in shallowness. The world seduced by the ancient serpent – the spirit of division and confusion with whom Jesus contended His entire life and with whom the Body of Christ contends till the end of the ages – cries out for that hope and love that we can make known to them in Jesus Whom we have met and seek to become more deeply each day.
Our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi loved the mystery of the Incarnation. The Infant Jesus for him was the young lamb of sacrifice prepared by the Father whose holocaust would be accepted for all humanity. Our Seraphic Father’s simplicity, humility, innocence, and love were all images of the Christ in Whom he sought to be conformed. Through Francis’ intimacy with God, he entered the peace of God and was led quite soon to the God of peace.
The Poverello’s journey of discovery transformed his life forever. St Francis did not seek to “feel” God in his life. St Francis sought the God that excels all feeling and is the Great God in Whose image and likeness we live and move and have our being (Acts 17: 28). This God asks that we enter the mystery. The Seraphic Father lived in the mystery that enfolds and protects with love and truth, but does not always caress with feeling. St. Francis, especially after the conforming gift of the Sacred Stigmata of Jesus imprinted on his body as well, extended to everyone the possibility of sharing with him in becoming Christ to the world. This challenge becomes a reality when those who seek perfection live the Gospel, who is not a book but a Person, Jesus the Christ, Son of God and Son of Mary.
As a new calendar year begins, let us pick up the challenge once again and be true Spiritual Children of our Founder and Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi.
May we all experience God’s blessings, Our Lady’s and good St. Joseph’s protection, and St. Francis and St. Clare of Assisi’s loving care for all of us. In them may we have a New Year 2026 that is holy, joy-filled, free of insurmountable obstacles of spirit and/or body.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Posted By Teresa Redder, on December 3rd, 2025 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
December 2025
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
May the Infant Jesus grant your heart the Peace you desire.
May His Star enlighten your mind with the splendor of His Truth.
May His Love consume your heart so that it beats solely for Him.
Peace, Truth and Love are independent attributes and virtues that have an effect on each other. Taken together, they have the ability to fill a soul with real and lasting Joy. When we enter this ‘three-step program’, we have an insight to understand a little more the depths of the Christmas Joy we wish one another. Most people want to be ‘happy’, and there is obviously nothing wrong with being happy. Happiness is a wonderful experience. Happiness often brings with it a sense of elation, relaxation, optimism, and more of those ‘good feelings’ we all enjoy.
Regretfully, this sensation is not permanent. Unless there is Joy in our heart and soul, happiness is only a passing moment with no real lasting effect except that of regret that it did not last longer. It leaves a yearning for the ‘feeling’ to return. When we follow the ‘process’ of that simple Christmas, Peace-Truth-Love, a more lasting Joy enters our heart and soul. It is this Joy that Christmas and the Mystery of the Incarnation help us to acquire. When we understand how the Eternal Word, equal to God from all ages, entered human history so that humanity could enter the timelessness of God’s Love, we lay the groundwork for the Peace-Truth-Love of God to possess us. God Himself offers us insights into all this through His own inspired Word.
Take care you remain tranquil and do not fear … Unless your faith is firm you shall not be firm! … The virgin shall be with child, and bear a son, and shall name him Immanuel. (cfr. Isaiah 7: 4-15) For a child is born to us, a son is given to us; upon his shoulder dominion rests. They name him Wonder-Counselor, God-Hero, Father-Forever, Prince of Peace. His dominion is vast and forever peaceful. (Isaiah 9: 5-6) … who brings glad tidings announcing peace, bearing good news, announcing salvation … (Isaiah 52: 7)
Do you remember how prevalent it became for us to hear the word ‘Shalom’, the Hebrew word for ‘Peace’, extended to others at the moment of the Sign of Peace during Mass? Our own Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi made the word ‘peace’ his own particular greeting: The Lord give you peace! When we reflect upon what peace means to us and pray for it, most often what we ask for is tranquility of soul or cessation of some external violence affecting ourselves or others. This peace is most needed and an appropriate gift to prayerfully request of God. However, in Scripture, the word ‘Shalom’ that we translate as ‘peace’ has a deeper and more life-altering meaning. Our ancestors in the faith of Abraham, from whom our Savior descended according to the flesh, used this word to mean ‘completeness’, ‘fullness’, ‘integrity’, and the like. What flows from this ‘fullness’ and ‘completeness’ is another expression of ‘shalom’.
The Mystery of the Incarnation begins with ‘shalom’. The Angel Gabriel came to Mary and greeting her said: ‘Shalom’ favored one! The Lord is with you. (Luke 2: 28) This greeting of fulfillment, completeness, wholeness filled Mary with a sense of confusion at why this should be said to Her. The prophecies were now to be fulfilled, the time established had reached completion, the person to enter human history was the Creator/creature in the wholeness of a Person Whose two distinct and total natures were not in conflict but in total harmony with each other. ‘Shalom’, the Angel said to Mary, as an introduction and encouragement to accept the challenge because, with Her consent, the Father would send His Spirit to overshadow Mary. Thus, His Covenant and all the Prophecies would be fulfilled in Jesus, His Incarnate Son, the Word made flesh. ‘Shalom-Peace’ is anything but an apathetic courteous greeting. It is an eternally packed word that brings harmony and serenity, and leads to acceptance of Truth.
Jesus then said … ‘If you remain in my word, you will truly be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free’ (John 8: 31-32) I have much more to tell you … but when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you to all truth. (John 16: 12-13) Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said, Father … Consecrate them in the truth. Your word is truth (cfr. John 17: 1-17). Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice. (John 18: 37)
Peace of heart and soul is a liberating gift. Inner peace frees us to be who we were created to be. There is no longer any need to protect an ‘image’ of what we want others to think of us. Protective comfort zones are eliminated. Intimidating precautions and false securities that offer illusory hope are eliminated. Deceptive images we use to camouflage our real personalities are ‘unmasked’. A soul at peace is transparent and that person is at peace with him/herself. Transparency is Truth, and vice versa. Peace frees us from the need to ‘compete’ with others. Self esteem is rekindled and we accept the fact that You are who you are before God and nothing more (cfr. St. Francis of Assisi). Truth and transparency, fruits of a person at peace with God, self and others, inevitably leads to Love.
The eyes of the Lord are upon those who love him … He gives health and life and blessings (Sirach 34: 17). For it is love that I desire, not sacrifice, and knowledge of God rather than holocausts (Hosea 6: 6). Whoever loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and reveal myself to him … Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him (John 14: 21-23).
Love is a deceptive word. It is most often used to express an emotional rapport between persons. While love can be expressed as a ‘fuzzy feeling’ of the senses, true love is something else. When we define love, we have already limited or even destroyed it in our minds and hearts. Peace that leads to transparency is capable of love in its fullness. We know that love is God. True spiritual love is manifest in the ability to totally surrender ourselves to the other. This surrender is not a submission to another’s dominance. Loving surrender does not count the cost, it supports and encourages. It lives the present, in view of the future, grateful for the experiences of the past. Love helps us to live in the present, and thus in the Presence of God.
It is a marvelous blessing for anyone to possess Peace-Truth-Love. To state it this way though, seems so academic. They are academic qualities, virtues, attributes that can be taught, preached, reflected upon. But what are the practical effects of these three Christmas gifts of the Father to His world in Jesus? Simply put:
– Peace calms the heart and soul. It offers the space for serenity within and brings about a certain contentment, tranquility, silence in our personality and demeanor. A peace-full person is usually calm, balanced, thoughtful, patient, prudent .
– Truth encourages the person to greater transparency, thus, to live a simpler life. A simplicity of lifestyle eradicates all exaggerations, false securities in persons, places, and things. We are relieved and free to just be ourselves.
– Love is the last of the three ‘steps’ that challenges us to open our hearts to others. The inner peace and total transparency free us to accept others as we would be accepted. They become ‘companions on the journey’ who enhance and support us as we do them. They are not obstacles to overcome or enemies to conquer. They are sisters and brothers in God’s great family of creation redeemed in the Blood of the One Whose Birth we celebrate. In His Blood God’s Covenant with Humanity is ratified and we become truly adopted children. We are children not of the womb. We are children of the heart, the Eternal Loving Heart of the Father.
Sisters and Brothers in the Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi and our Holy Mother St. Clare, let us accept the greeting as a blessing and a challenge. Let us strive at this Holy Season and throughout the year to seek that peace that only God can give. Let us gratefully accept God’s will for us and the role He has asked we fulfill in our life. Thus we shall see all others in the same light, ‘blessed’ and ‘challenged’. May the words of the angels at Bethlehem to the shepherds be in our hearts and on our lips: Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth to those on whom His favor rests (Luke 2: 14).
Christmas is a time of gift-giving and gift-receiving. Recognize the gift we are and are called to be. Thus, we may become a joy-filled, life-giving, sister and brother in the family of the Poverello of Assisi. For this intention and whatever ones you may hold most dear in your hearts, be assured that you and your loved ones will be remembered in a special way in all the Masses I celebrate during this holy season.
Let’s remember that this Advent begins the celebration of the 8th centenary of the Paschal Mystery of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi. Aware of his approaching death, he and awaited his encounter with Life Himself, Uncreated Source of Being, GOD. St. Francis sang his song as he saw with his heart’s eye the immensity God’s creation reborn and transformed in the magnificence of God from Whom all comes and in-with-through Whom all are “reborn”. Advent/Christmas is the mystery re-presented in liturgy each year for us to journey with the heart and liturgy as of Seraphic Father did. Contemplate with your mind and heart each day. Offer others the gift of your contemplation. The Jesus considered, contemplated, and offered others will be a source unexpected of Peace-Truth-Love.
In the Name of Jesus I wish all of you a Spirit-filled Advent and a Holy and Happy Christmas Season. As you enter the new calendar year with all its expectations and uncertainties, hopes and fears, may your dreams be fulfilled in a world renewed in Jesus and filled with His Spirit. Let us never forget: A Child is born to us! A Savior is given to us! Come, let us adore Him! Fear not! It is I! I have conquered the world!
Blessed and Merry Christmas 2025 and a Happy New Year 2026!
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, OFM Cap
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Holy and Happy Christmas 2025
Happy New Year 2026
May the New Year be filled with God’s
Peace, Joy and Love.
Posted By Teresa Redder, on November 4th, 2025 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
November 2025
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
The Lord give you his peace!
We have entered the last of the Jubilee Years of the Franciscan Family, as we prepare for the celebration of the Blessed Transitus of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi. His death on the evening of 3 October 1226 heralded the beginning of a new experience for the Brotherhood of those who had chosen the Gospel Life lived by and with the “Poverello”.
The “After Francis” movements within the Brotherhood had already begun in the time “during Francis”. The brothers, especially those who had come from other areas of Europe and those who had “specialized” talents began to consider the need for modifications to the Rule of Life they had professed with St. Francis. We know from the sources how this affected our Father. It took a reminder from God, so we are told, to let go and let God guide the Order. Discussions were already happening regarding the possibility, with Church approval, to modify/adapt certain expressions of the Rule to the changing times, circumstances, individual “needs”, and the like.
The question was not just adapting to the times and circumstances that arose, but also, in certain respects, adopting the values of the times and circumstances. The “adopting” was the question. It had to have been a severe blow to Francis’ deep conviction concerning “Madonna Poverta” and the varied ways their life was directed by this wonderful “gift” that liberated the friars from unnecessary concerns so they could live the Gospel as Christ and the Apostles did. This happiness was within the reach of them all, and Francis saw they were losing it. Poverty is a liberating “gift” when lived in the certain hope of God’s never-failing Providence.
St. Francis lay dying. The brothers who could be there were with him. The thoughts that filled his heart and mind can only be imagined. We’ll never know until, God willing, we are with God for eternity and know what is now hidden. This meditative speculation though, might help us all to understand the depth of importance for each one to be totally committed to who he/she is called to be in God. For Franciscans, it is through living, “sine glossa”, whatever that might mean today after eight centuries, the charism of St. Francis of Assisi.
The Dying and Death of St. Francis speaks of his most solemn moment in life and the ultimate encounter with God. To all of us, it speaks of the need to be convinced of whom we seek to follow and become, committed to the Gospel Life we proclaim, and consecrated every moment to the truth we have professed. Impossible? Absolutely not! “The hand does not reach for what the heart does not desire”. If we truly desire what we profess with our lips, we will know, see, and accept all God offers us to “live the dream” of St. Francis and the “dream” of all who gave their “yes” to the challenge.
Considering all the above, we realize the urgency for St. Francis to finalize his Will and Testament. It was St. Francis’ “final word” from the Father-Brother-Founder of the Penitents of Assisi. His “heart” was directed to those who aspired and professed the itinerancy of the Gospel Life. The poverty professed and lived by the brothers enriched and ennobled them to be living witnesses of God’s ever-present Providence. The “Little Poor Man of Assisi”, “il Poverello”, dying naked on the ground, reminds us all that we are what we are before God and nothing more. Anything over and above the bare necessities is extra baggage that makes the journey more burdensome.
Still there remained in his heart the fact that the brothers, during his lifetime, had already begun to re-present his “dream” in a manner different from what he received from God and what he sought to live every moment. His constant refrain and the Lord gave me was a conviction that all that comes from God, as he believed it was for himself and those who sought and accepted to follow him, must not be changed.
He was succumbing to the effects of all his ailments. St. Francis was in the “process of transitioning” from time to eternity. What concerned him more was the “transitions” some brothers had begun adopting that were contrary to his vision of the Order as he expected it to be lived. Dying in the body for someone who had abandoned himself totally to God’s Will was easier than feeling abandoned by those he believed would continue the dream begun at San Damiano and sealed at La Verna. Death would resolve the matter for him. How would his death affect the differences among the brothers concerning their faithfulness to God’s call (?), him (?), the Gospel Life lived in/as the “gift” of Lady Poverty (?), the acceptance of the minimum needed rather than the maximum allowed (?). Oh, how many thoughts passed through the mind and heart of the Poverello! We can only imagine.
In the final stanzas of his Canticle of the Creatures, St. Francis of Assisi sums it all up and offers a startling and serene invocation: Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no one living can escape. This line, composed near the end of his life, encapsulates a radical theological and spiritual vision that reorients the human relationship with mortality. Rather than viewing death as a grim adversary or a tragic end, Francis personifies it as “Sister”. She is an intimate companion in the human/divine family of creation. The past will be the legacy the brothers will have to deal with responsibly in truth to their profession and to the mind of the founder they sought to emulate, but not necessarily imitate in all ways.
As negative as this might sound, it is seems like God’s way of keeping a healthy tension alive in the hearts of all who constantly seek to become more of what God wants. The Penitents of Assisi are always in the process of conversion. Conversion is not necessarily from bad to good; it can also be a process from good to better. The crux is to be faithful to the “charism” (word usually used to express a “gift from God”) while moving forward in the changing times.
St. Francis’s embrace of Sister Bodily Death is not merely poetic. It is theological. His worldview, shaped by a deep reverence for all aspects of creation, extends even to the final moment of life. In calling death “Sister,” Francis aligns it with the sun, moon, wind, fire, and water. These are elements he also personifies in the Canticle. This act of naming is significant. It transforms death from a feared unknown into a familiar presence, a member of the universal family that praises God. Francis’s language suggests that death, like all creation, serves a divine purpose and is worthy of reverence. This perspective challenges the dominant cultural beliefs/explanations that treat death as an enemy to be resisted or denied, rather than the anticipated companion accompanying us to the gift awaiting us. The gift is that of our encounter with the Source of all Life Whose Love in Christ offers us the “Gift” of Himself for an eternity.
The theological foundation for Francis’s view lies in his understanding of the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery. For Francis, Christ’s suffering and death are not merely historical events but cosmic realities that sanctify the human experience. By embracing poverty, illness, and ultimately death, Francis imitates Christ and participates in the redemptive arc of salvation. His Stigmata, received in 1224, symbolize this union with the crucified Christ. In this light, Sister Bodily Death is not a rupture but a passage. It is a moment of communion with the divine. Francis’s peaceful acceptance of death, even amid physical suffering, reflects his trust in God’s mercy and his hope in eternal life.
This hope is central to Franciscan spirituality. Unlike the despair or dread that often accompanies thoughts of death, Francis’s vision is permeated with joy and gratitude. He sings his Canticle not in health but in illness, not in comfort but in pain. His praise of Sister Death is an act of defiance against fear and a testament to faith. It affirms that death is not the end but the beginning of a deeper union with God. This hope is not abstract; it is embodied in Francis’s life and in the lives of those who follow his path. The Franciscan tradition continues to emphasize the dignity of dying, the importance of accompaniment, and the sacredness of the final journey.
Moreover, Francis’s view of death is ecological and communal. By placing death within the family of creation, he dissolves the boundaries between human and non-human, living and dying. This holistic vision invites a deeper respect for life in all its forms and stages. It challenges modern tendencies to isolate the dying, to “medicalize” the process, and to sanitize the reality of mortality. Instead, Francis calls for a reintegration of death into the rhythm of life, recognition that dying is as natural and sacred as birth. His Canticle becomes a liturgy of life, a song that includes every creature and every moment.
In contemporary contexts, the theme of Sister Bodily Death offers a counter-explanation to the culture of denial and distraction. In a world that often avoids the topic of death, Francis’s joyful acceptance is both radical and healing. It invites individuals to confront mortality not with fear but with faith, not with despair but with hope. His example encourages communities to care for the dying, to honor their stories, and to accompany them with love. It also speaks to movements that seek to restore harmony between humans and the earth, recognizing that death is part of the cycle of renewal.
Francis’s final moments embody his theology. As he lay dying in 1226, he asked to be placed on the bare ground, stripped of all comfort, in solidarity with the poor and with Christ. He sang his Canticle, adding verses that praised God through Sister Death. His death was not a defeat but a culmination, a final act of praise, a return to the Creator. This scene, recorded by his companions, has become a touchstone for Franciscan reflection on death. It illustrates the power of faith to transform suffering into song, fear into peace, and death into life.
The legacy of Sister Bodily Death continues in Franciscan communities, in care for the ill and dying inspired by his vision, and in theological writings that draw from his example. It challenges theologians, caregivers, and believers to reflect on the meaning of death, to embrace its mystery, and to find God within it. Francis’s Canticle remains a prophetic voice, calling the world to see death not as an end but as a “Sister”. She is our companion on the journey “Into God”.
The theme of Sister Bodily Death in the writings and life of St. Francis of Assisi is a profound invitation to re-imagine mortality. It is a call to embrace death with reverence, to live with hope, and to die with peace. Through poetic language, theological insight, and personal example, Francis transforms the darkest moment into a luminous passage. His vision continues to inspire and challenge, offering a path of faith that leads through death into life.
In this month traditionally dedicated to praying for the Holy Souls in Purgatory, let us remember the Poor Souls and pray for their refreshment, light, and peace. May we always be sensitive to the spiritual needs of the Holy Souls in Purgatory. Do not be afraid to offer all the spiritual benefits you may be granted through your prayers, penances and good works for them. The words of Jesus still hold true: the measure you measure with will be measured back to you (Matthew 7: 2). God will never be outdone in gratitude and graciousness. Trust Him.
Death is a point of convergence between time and eternity. A life condensed in a moment bursts into an eternity of presence with the Hidden Origin of all life Whose open arms invite, welcome, and embrace the soul. The month of November is not centered on death and dying. It is centered on Life and Living: Life with God and living for eternity.
Remember all those who have gone before us and await our prayers to assist them in Purgatory. Be protected in Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Be happy in our common brother/sisterhood as Franciscans. Be grateful that so gracious a God has called us to life and journeys with us in mystery until, through our individual histories, we finally live with Him eternally.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, OFM Cap
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Posted By Teresa Redder, on October 6th, 2025 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 website: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
October 2025
Dear Sisters and Brothers in St. Francis,
The Lord grant us all the precious gift of his peace!
The life we know of St. Francis of Assisi tells us of his aspirations, divine inspirations and immediacy with which he sought to respond to the Father’s Will. Though blind and dying, the last two years of his life were not lived in vain. Overcoming himself and the many challenges concerning the Order that his brothers placed before him kept St. Francis humble and open to divine inspiration. The words of God’s presence, and at times intervention, rang in his ears and heart.
– Francis, Go rebuild my Church, for as you can see it is falling into ruin. (Crucified of San Damiano)
– Relinquish all your wealth. Take up your Cross. Follow me. (Three openings of the Gospels for guidance)
– Francis, whose Order is this, yours or Mine? (Discouragement with brothers and God’s response)
– The Rule to be followed without gloss, without gloss, without gloss. (Words heard regarding Rule), and more.
Once the Order began to grow, Francis saw that the initial thrust was being modified. He had relinquished his office as General Minister. However, he still would always be, “The Brother”. Even those who may have considered him “too stuck in his ways” or “not updated with the times” or “needing to update the brotherhood to be like other orders”, Francis would stand firm in his resolve. He was able to let go in humility, but the desire for the original charism as he received it from “the Lord” was always alive in his soul. Divine inspiration consoled and even encouraged him to “let go and let God” resolve the “Franciscan Question”. History has proven the wisdom in this final acceptance of Francis…to a point!
The Approved Rule of the Franciscan Family is the same for all in the First Order who profess it. Nevertheless, the Church has seen fit to approve three subtle distinctions of life expressions that modify but do not destroy the mind and heart of our Seraphic Father. There is no need now to get into the history more deeply. Each group has its history, reasons and justifications.
The Friars Minor, called the Observants, the Friars Minor Conventual, and the Friars Minor Capuchin are the three approved independent branches of the First Order of Friars Minor founded by St. Francis of Assisi. (We must never forget the Third Order Regular who can trace its origins to St. Francis also. They are not considered here because the Rule they follow is distinct from the First Order Rule. Nevertheless, the mind of the Founder is always expected to be followed, whatever the Rule professed.) The first three mentioned have the same Rule to follow, and the same Testament they revere as the last words of the Poverello to his brothers.
This year of the Transitus of St. Francis, celebrates the Paschal Mystery of the one marked with the sign of the Crucified. We celebrate the Passion of his life filled with joys, challenges, successes, seeming failures, and total fulfillment in the Lord. To paraphrase the title of a small book on St. Francis: Francis found that the “Journey Is The Dream!” And the “dream” is Faith in the call to “Rebuild My Church”, Hope acting on that belief by moving forward on the journey regardless of “hurdles”, and encountering and joyfully recognizing the Love of God at every turn even when we are led through the dark night of the soul.
Central to the Paschal Mystery of St. Francis is the legacy of his final Testament. St. Francis’ Testament is a deeply personal document. Before his death in October 1226, St. Francis dictated his final word to the brothers, not as a new Rule, but as a reminder to all the brothers of the fundamental beliefs and challenges that had governed his life by affecting the choices and decisions he made. While the Rule establishes the framework of Franciscan life, the Testament offers us an insight to its soul. It is a reminder of the spirit that guided St. Francis through his radical embrace of the Gospel. The Testament is the last expression of St. Francis’ deep conviction that the Gospel Life he proposed for others was truly divinely inspired and thus requiring no alterations.
The Rule and Testament speak of St. Francis’ commitment to the inspiration begun at San Damiano that blossomed into a religious Order of evangelical men and women professed to live the Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ in obedience, without anything of one’s own, and in chastity. Before his death in October 1226, Francis dictated the text of his will and Testament, or as he called it My Testament. He was speaking to all the friars through this document so that we may observe in a more Catholic manner the Rule we have promised to the Lord.
Francis expressly told his friars not to look at this document and say, This is another Rule, because this is only a remembrance, an admonition. The Testament reiterates emphasizing his expectation that his spiritual brothers live the Rule without “interpreting” his words. They are to listen to the words and follow what is written “without gloss”. (This could be said of any document we solemnly profess to live. Let us never forget a very simple truth: You are only as good as your word! At our Profession we “gave our word” to be faithful to all we professed.)
The Testament, directed to all the friars of the original Franciscan Brotherhood, now officially separated into three distinct branches of the First Order, can help us understand Francis’ will that we not deviate from the Rule. Francis is the image of one conformed to Jesus. The Testament tells us in Francis’ words how that came about for him. Thus, the Testament becomes a last desire of Francis to help his brothers understand and live the authentic expression of the Rule. I have done what was mine to do. You must discover what is yours.
As Secular Franciscans you may ask “What does this have to do with us”. Directly, nothing! But understanding the mind and heart of St. Francis, through his last will and testament, much!
Celebrating the Year of the Paschal Mystery of St. Francis is the way we reflect on the Gospel Life all Franciscans live. As Franciscans living in a secular society, you are called to be a light and a leaven. You are called to shine with your lives that others may see the face of Christ and thus encourage others to love and live the Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ. The Testament is our Seraphic Father’s last desire for us to accept the “gift” of Gospel Life as brothers and sisters united in the name of Christ and St. Francis. Thus doing, we learn to disarm our hearts to embrace all people.
The Italian bishops a number of years ago gave St. Francis the title “the Saint with a disarmed heart”. Conformity to Christ must follow the spiritual warfare of disarmament of hearts. If we follow our Father’s example ultimately, we will follow Christ’s and thus be conformed to Him. We can be God’s way of changing the world. That will never happen though, until we change ourselves first. What we seek to find in others, we must be willing to show and practice in ourselves.
The Testament of St. Francis is a final exhortation, admonition, and remembrance for the brothers, and ultimately the sisters, who would read these words, to do likewise. Francis himself tells the friars that his Testament is not a new Rule for them. Nonetheless, the personal reflection he expresses is as valid for us today as it has been for all professed friars through the past eight centuries. The Testament recalls the initial simple vision of his life. He wrote it to counter the compromises he saw creeping into his rapidly growing order.
The document passionately reasserts his original radical commitment to the Gospel Life lived in poverty, manual labor, and devotion to the Church. The desire for St. Francis to counter any compromises not proposed by the Church should be an incentive for us all to be faithful. Compromises, dispensations, alterations, additions and subtractions are usually ways not to live the life more fully and intensely. Thus we rather let go of the challenges, diminish the intensity of life, and become at best mediocre. We allow ourselves this mediocrity and soon lose all enthusiasm and desire.
Remember the Church in Laodicea in the Book of Revelation: I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth. But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked. (Revelation 3: 15-17). Tough words! God knows us. God knows our capabilities and our abilities. He endowed us with all that we need to be saved and give God the glory. Refusing to use and enjoy what was for us and for each one of us alone, is an insult to the Eternal Donor. The great “gift” of following Jesus more intimately as a “Gospel People”, is an awesome “gift”. Refuse the gift; refuse the Donor! Then what?!
The Jubilee Year of the Paschal Mystery of St. Francis, and what that means for all Franciscans, is a true journey of the heart. St. Francis was preparing for his moment of encounter with God. He desired to revive in the hearts of his brothers and sisters all that his life had been for him, from the response to the call of the Crucified of San Damiano to the Seal of Approval by Jesus on Mount Alverna. He expected and hoped his brothers and sisters would accept the charism of the Gospel Life they professed. The joyfulness of the life expressed by the brothers attracted others, and the uniqueness of its expectations challenged total commitment to the gift God offered them through St. Francis.
The Canticle of Praise and the Testament, both written so close to the arrival of Sister Death for Francis, reveal a soul imbued with divine inspiration. In the Canticle his soul sees everyone and all things in God. Nevertheless, it is the Testament that is the final urging of a heart and soul totally God’s in Jesus through the Spirit. His words urge and expect the brothers to accept the challenge of the Gospel Life they professed “without gloss”. Nothing was to mar or change, in any way, what was given to him as a divine gift – And the Lord gave me…
As Secular Franciscans, you live in a society conditioned more commonly and necessarily by the demands of the secular world. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12: 2). These are easy words to quote, but not always easy to put into practice. The politics of a nation or given place, the circumstances of life, and so on, often condition the only response we believe we are able to give. Often the response expected, and at times the one given, may seem “un-Franciscan”, “un-Christian”, “un-holy”, or downright sinful. What are you to do? We are to embrace our vulnerability and trust in the Lord at all times in every way.
In the Testament our Seraphic Father begins with a memory. Not of triumph or glory, but of revulsion, his initial disgust toward lepers. He admits that he found them unbearable. But then, something happened. He says, The Lord gave me, Brother Francis, thus to begin doing penance in this way: for when I was in sin, it seemed too bitter for me to see lepers. And the Lord Himself led me among them and I showed mercy to them. That moment, that encounter, changed everything. What had seemed bitter became sweet. It’s not just a story of personal growth. It’s a spiritual turning point. Francis found Christ in the lepers. He found joy in what the world rejected. And that, in many ways, is the heart of his entire life.
From there, Francis speaks of his reverence for churches and the Eucharist. He adored Christ in all the churches throughout the world and blessed Him for His redeeming sacrifice. This wasn’t just liturgical piety, it was a visceral, living devotion. He saw the presence of Christ not only in the poor and the suffering, but also in the Sacrament and in the sacred spaces where the faithful gathered. And what’s remarkable is his attitude toward priests. Even those who persecuted him, he honored, not because of their personal holiness, but because of their role in administering the Eucharist. He says, I want to respect, love and honor them and all others as my lords. That’s a powerful statement. It’s not blind obedience it’s theological humility. Francis saw Christ in the priesthood, and so he bowed not to the man, but to the mystery.
He speaks of the Word of God with deep reverence. He wanted any scraps of Scripture found in unworthy places to be gathered and treated with honor. That’s not superstition it’s love. He understood that the Word is alive, that it speaks and thus deserves respect and obedience. And he extended that respect to theologians and ministers of the Word, recognizing that they nourish the soul. Again, it’s not about hierarchy, it’s about gratitude.
Then Francis turns to the founding of his brotherhood. He says, After the Lord gave me some brothers, no one showed me what to do; but the Most High Himself revealed to me that I should live according to the form of the Holy Gospel. That line is crucial. He didn’t set out to create an Order. He didn’t have a plan. He simply wanted to live the Gospel, literally, radically, joyfully. And the brothers who joined him desired the same. They gave away everything, wore patched tunics, and lived in abandoned churches. They prayed, worked, and rejoiced. They were poor, but they were free.
Francis’s emphasis on poverty wasn’t romantic. It was deliberate. He saw poverty as a way to strip away ego, ambition, and distraction. It was a way to depend entirely on God. He worked with his own hands and encouraged his brothers to do the same. He didn’t want them to become idle or proud. He wanted them to remain grounded, humble, and in solidarity with the poor.
Throughout the Testament, there’s a recurring phrase: The Lord gave me. Whether it’s his conversion, his brothers, his understanding of the Gospel, it’s all grace. Francis doesn’t take credit. He sees himself as a vessel, a recipient of mercy. That humility isn’t a pious performance, it’s real. It’s the fruit of a life steeped in prayer, suffering, and love.
And yet, there’s urgency in his words. He knows he’s dying. He wants to leave behind not rules, but spirit. He warns his friars not to treat the Testament as another Rule, but as a remembrance and admonition. That’s important. The Rule governs the structure of the Order. The Testament reveals its soul. It’s a call to fidelity, simplicity, reverence, and joy.
One of the most striking aspects of the Testament is Francis’s love for the Church. He doesn’t rebel against it. He doesn’t criticize it. He honors it. Even in its brokenness, he sees it as the Body of Christ. That’s not naive, it’s prophetic. He challenges us to love the Church not because it’s perfect, but because it’s holy.
So what does this Testament mean for us today? It’s not a historical artifact. It’s a living challenge. Francis’s embrace of the lepers calls us to solidarity with the marginalized. His reverence for the Eucharist invites us to deeper devotion. His love for Scripture urges us to honor the Word. His simplicity confronts our consumerism. His humility rebukes our pride. His joy in suffering reveals the paradox of Christian hope.
The Testament is a mirror. It shows us what it looks like when a soul is utterly surrendered to God. It’s raw, honest, and luminous. It doesn’t offer easy answers. It offers a life, a life poured out in love, shaped by the Gospel, and sealed by grace.
In the end, it’s a love letter: to God, to the Church, to his brothers, and to the world. It reminds us that holiness is not about perfection, but about surrender. It calls us to live not by rules alone, but by the Spirit who breathes through the Gospel. And it leaves us with a question, not what would Francis do, but what is the Lord asking of us now?
Let us listen, as Francis did, with open hearts and empty hands. Let us follow, not with fear, but with joy. And let us remember that the Gospel is not a burden, but a gift, a gift that transforms bitterness into sweetness, and death into life.
Celebrating the Year of the Paschal Mystery of St. Francis of Assisi is the way we will reflect on the Gospel Life all Franciscans have professed to live. And the unique expression of our Seraphic Father’s last desire is for us to accept the “gift” of Gospel Life in Fraternity. (Regardless of which Franciscan “Rule” we profess, to Live Jesus really has no substitute. We either live Jesus or not. And, it was given to Francis what values were essential in living it.) When we listen to his words and conform ourselves to the spirit of St. Francis we can be assured of a path leading to our conformity to Christ.
Let us remember the last words of St. Francis in his Testament: And whoever observes these things, let him be blessed in heaven with the blessing of the Most High Father, and on earth with the blessing of His Beloved Son with the Most Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, and all the powers of heaven and with all the saints. And, as far as I am able, I, little brother Francis, your servant, confirm for you both within and without, this most holy blessing. Amen.
Peace and Blessings
Francis A. Sariego, O.F.M. Cap.
Regional Spiritual Assistant
Posted By Teresa Redder, on September 9th, 2025 St. Katherine Drexel Regional Fraternity
Regional Spiritual Assistant
St. Francis of Assisi Friary
1901 Prior Road
Wilmington, Delaware 19809
tel: (302) 798-1454 fax: (302) 798-3360 email: skdsfo email: pppgusa@gmail.com
September, 2025
Brothers and Sisters in St. Francis,
May the Lord grant us all the gift of His peace.
We are quickly approaching the end of the jubilee year of the Canticle of the Creatures. The fifth Franciscan jubilee completes the journey of St. Francis from Discovery to Fulfillment and Glory. We will celebrate the Paschal Mystery of our Seraphic Father. In St. Francis it is the celebration of life’s fulfillment to be nothing else than conformed to Christ in His Passion and Death, crucified in, with, for Love, so to be conformed with Christ in His Resurrection and Glory
St. Francis sang his Love in the Canticle of Brother Sun not as he saw God in all creatures but as he saw all creation in God. His song was a simply expressed but mystically experienced of his proximate return to the source of all being, God! The fulfillment of a life lived in Christ for God totally giving himself for others. The sentiments expressed came from the depth of his heart so enamored of God that he saw God in every aspects of Creation. He had encountered the God of Creation and saw all things, time itself, in the Creator calling him home.
He composed this beautiful hymn of praise, Laudato Si!, as he lay awaiting Sister Bodily Death from whom no one can escape. This testament to the saint’s spiritual clarity and his unwavering commitment to humility, peace, and divine love can be felt so profoundly in the last part of the Canticle. The last stanzas that address forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise, are filled with a depth of faith and feeling. These words, the Canticle itself, speak volumes.
Francis’s invocation of forgiveness is not a casual mention but a deliberate and sacred act of spiritual elevation. In the stanza, “Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation,” Francis links the act of forgiveness directly to divine love. Forgiveness is not framed as a moral obligation or a social necessity but as a sacred participation in God’s own nature. Those who forgive are not merely virtuous—they are blessed. They are the ones who “endure in peace,” and it is by this endurance that they “shall be crowned.” To forgive is to align oneself with the eternal will of God, to participate in the God’s life of grace.
Francis’s emphasis on bearing infirmity and tribulation alongside forgiveness suggests that true pardon is not born of ease but of suffering. It is in the crucible of pain that the soul is refined, and it is through this refinement that one becomes capable of divine love. This stanza is a spiritual mirror of Francis’s own life, marked by illness, rejection, and hardship, yet filled with joy and peace. Forgiveness, in this context, is not weakness but strength. It is the crown of the soul that has chosen love over vengeance, peace over resentment.
The stanza on Sister Death is perhaps the most startling and countercultural element of the canticle. “Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no one living can escape.” Here, Francis does not fear death, nor does he curse it. He embraces it as a sister, a companion on the journey of life. Francis is not romanticizing mortality, but affirming that death has its place in the divine order. Death is not the enemy; it is the threshold. Francis’s calls death “Sister”. In a world that often views death with terror and denial, Francis offers intimacy and reverence.
He warns, however, that “woe to those who die in mortal sin,” and suggests that death is not neutral. It unveils the soul’s true state and ushers it into the presence of God. But for those “whom death will find in Your most holy will,” there is no harm. The “second death,” a reference to eternal separation from God, shall not touch them. It reflects Francis’s deep trust in divine mercy and his acceptance of life’s final passage. His own death occurred shortly after the canticle’s composition. It was marked by peace and joy, and embodied the words he had written.
By calling the elements “Brother” and “Sister,” Francis dismantles the hierarchy that places humanity above creation. He is centuries ahead of his time. His canticle calls for reverence, humility, and gratitude. In this communion, forgiveness is the glue, death is the gateway, and praise is the song. The canticle is not merely a poem, it is a spiritual map. It guides the soul from the illusion of separation to the truth of unity. It teaches that to live is to praise, to suffer is to forgive, and to die is to be embraced.
The historical context of the canticle adds further depth to its message. Francis wrote it while suffering from a debilitating eye disease, living in a darkened cell, surrounded by physical pain and existential uncertainty. Yet his words are luminous. They do not reflect despair but transcendence. Francis does not deny his suffering; he transforms it. He does not flee from death; he welcomes it. He does not withhold forgiveness; he offers it freely. The canticle is the fruit of a soul that has been purified by fire and has emerged radiant. It is the testament of a man who has seen God not in visions but in the faces of lepers, in the warmth of the sun, in the silence of the moon, and in the final breath of life.
In emphasizing forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise, the canticle brings together the human experience with divine grace. It sanctifies all aspects of life. It invites us to be persons of humility, gratitude, and joy. It challenges the ego and comforts the soul. It is a song of liberation, not from suffering, but through it. It is a hymn of hope, not in avoidance of death, but in its embrace. It is a prayer of love, not in isolation, but in communion.
The “Canticle of the Creatures” speaks across centuries, cultures, and conditions. It is as relevant today as it was in the thirteenth century. In a world marked by division, violence, and ecological crisis, Francis’s vision offers a path of peace, reconciliation, and reverence. It reminds us that forgiveness is divine, that death is sacred, and that praise is our highest calling. It invites us to see the world not as a resource to be exploited but as a family to be cherished. It calls us to live not in fear but in love, not in isolation but in communion, not in silence but in song.
Francis’s canticle is not a relic; it is a revelation. It reveals the heart of a man who saw God in all things and responded with joy. It reveals a theology that is not abstract but embodied, not distant but near. It reveals a spirituality that is not passive but active, not resigned but radiant. It is a canticle not only of creatures but of creation, not only of nature but of grace, not only of life but of love. And in its final lines, it calls us to “praise and bless my Lord and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.” This is the essence of Francis’s vision. This is the invitation of the canticle. This is the song that never ends.
Francis did not cloak his wisdom in theology nor his devotion in flowery language. He spoke in the plain language of the fields and the villages, naming each element as brother or sister and each human act of mercy as supreme worship. In so doing, he modeled a spirituality that is both accessible and profound, rooted in the everyday yet lifting the soul beyond itself. The stanzas on forgiveness, Sister Death, and praise form the canticle’s heart, but they pulse only because the bloodstream of radical poverty, joyful community, and incarnational love courses through them. Each paragraph of his poem invites the reader into a sacramental imagination, to see the sun as a song of God’s light, the water as a vessel of cleansing grace, the wind as a whisper of the Spirit’s breath. And among these chords of nature, forgiveness restores harmony, death becomes transformation, and praise rings out as the soul’s perpetual offering.
To live Francis’s canticle is to recognize that every gust of wind, every sunset, every human encounter bears within it the echo of the Creator’s voice. It is to find in forgiveness not a concession but a crowning virtue, in death not an end but a sacred passage, in praise not an obligation but the soul’s natural song. The Canticle of the Creatures stands as a testimony that the path to God is not necessarily in solitude and theological theorems, but can be found in solidarity with birds and beasts, in the acceptance of our mortality, and in the humble offering of every breath as a blessing. Even now, the melody of the Canticle invites us each to forgive as we are forgiven, to embrace death as a sister who brings us home. We are encouraged to praise with such humility that our gratitude will resound through all creation.
Praise be You, my Lord, for all my sisters and brothers. You have called us to the Gospel Life living in society. Your Spirit empowers us to be Pilgrims of Hope in an often confused world.
God bless all of you. Our Holy Mother and good St. Joseph guide, guard, and protect you. Our Holy parents of Assisi intercede for us all and our loved ones, as we strive to Live Jesus in the spirit of our Seraphic Father St. Francis of Assisi.
Peace and Blessings
Fr. Francis A. Sariego, OFM Cap
Regional Spiritual Assistant
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