The St. Katharine Drexel Region of the Secular Franciscan Order

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?

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

 

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

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

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