Francis’s greatness, I think, comes from his ability to transfer, and transform, his internal conversations to the physical reality of the external world. The poverty of the prison cell, the street life of peasants, the overwhelming stench, the extreme want—he was aware of them all, and while most of us would have been thanking God for saving us from these, Francis moved in with them, making his internal conversations real and perceptible, with Jesus as his translator. Christ became the companion who introduced and betrothed him to Lady Poverty, to Perfect Joy, to his brothers and sisters sun, moon, water, stars, wind and even death. In doing so, he then could walk with no fear. Fire did not frighten him; instead, he embraced it and made it his brother. Extreme physical suffering—cold, hunger, and the piercing nails of the stigmata—reflected his interior dialogue’s answers.
What a gift. Such greatness. Such singular holiness.
—from the book God’s Love Song: The Vision of Francis and Clare
by Murray Bodo, OFM, and Susan Saint Sing
