Spending time in Assisi—if only in our minds—can bring us closer to Saints Francis and Clare.
Eight centuries after his death, Francis, the beloved saint of Assisi, still beckons all people to follow his way. He lived in a violent world where Crusades raged, where ordinary people had few rights and fewer possessions. From a warring world, Francis emerged as a champion of peace and nonviolence. Recently, more than 30 individuals from three continents undertook a pilgrimage to Assisi, Italy, dedicated to peace and nonviolence, which explored how the lives of Sts. Francis and Clare might guide lives today in a world where violence, war, and military conflicts affect people globally.
The 2019 Peace and Nonviolence Pilgrimage was sponsored by Pace e Bene in celebration of its 30 years of nonviolent endeavor. Pilgrimage guides were non-violence advocates Father John Dear and Ken Butigan of DePaul University. The pilgrims prayerfully visited sites in Assisi that influenced St. Francis in his quest to follow Jesus, who proclaimed, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you” (Jn 14:27).
This pilgrimage guide can help readers rediscover the power of nonviolence in a world that trembles in the eddy of turmoil. You are invited to visit these sites in prayer and to ponder questions related to Francis’ time that can bring insights and hope into the 21st century.
San Damiano: The Call
Francesco Bernardone began his life as a wealthy youth of Assisi, probably spoiled by an adoring mother, affluent father, and a cadre of fun-loving friends who encouraged him in a frivolous life. That life changed after a foray into war, a period of imprisonment, and poor health. His present life no longer satisfied him.
Then Francis stepped into San Damiano, a little chapel on the plain below Assisi, perhaps to seek comfort on a hot Umbrian day, perhaps to pray. The ornate, life-size crucifix over the altar seemed to speak to him, “Francis, go and repair my house, which is falling into ruin.” A task! Something to do that had meaning! Francis took the message literally. He set about repairing small churches that dotted the area. All well and good, but God’s plan was much larger. Francis was to begin rebuilding the Church that is the body of Christ.
As you sit before a crucifix on this spiritual pilgrimage, listen to what Jesus is calling you to do. To rebuild the small church that is the family? To help resolve issues in your parish church, your community, the nation, the world? To be a peacemaker? Now is the time to create a plan for following Jesus and Francis in a nonviolent life.
Church of Santa Maria Maggiore: Freedom from Possessions
Francis’ response to his call was dramatic. After repairing local chapels, often with funds “borrowed” from his father, Francis realized he must give away all that he possessed. In a dramatic gesture on the Piazza del Vescovado—the square in front of the bishop’s palace—before the bishop, the town’s mayor and citizens, and his father, Francis disrobed and returned his fine clothing to his father. He declared that from that time forward he would give obeisance only to his Father in heaven.
One can stand today on the very stones where Francis gave away his possessions, trusting only in God to provide for him. What might these stones say to us? A century ago, many houses were built without closets.
People’s clothing fit in modest-sized wardrobes. Today, room-sized closets inhabit homes, and massive storage lockers store excess possessions—winter clothes for those who move south with no intent of return to winter and silver, crystal, and china for those who plan to do no formal entertaining. Advertising belts us with messages of what we must purchase to be happy. We live in a culture of abundance, yet Jesus died with nothing as the soldiers divided his clothes among themselves.
What items do we cling to “just in case” we might need them sometime? Do possessions bring genuine happiness or complicate life as we accumulate and care for them? Consider ways that material possessions can contribute to violence in our 21st-century world.
The Hermitage: A Place of Refuge
Pilgrimage can be physically and spiritually challenging, as we stretch ourselves into new ways of being and learning. Pilgrimage requires a resting place from time to time. FrancIs found his in the Hermitage of the Carceri in the hills sur- rounding Assisi. One niche became his bed, complete with a stone pillow. The Hermitage was a place to which he could retreat when the conflicts of the world assailed him, to pray and gain the right perspective on situations that might have robbed him of his sense of peace.
We each need a hermitage for rest, relaxation, and reshaping our life’s perspective. A bench in a park, a pew in church, a rocking chair on the porch—there is no limit to the possibilities for private hermitages. Peace and quiet are required. Wherever you choose, know that the Lord is near.
Francis taxed his body in many ways. We might even say he did violence to his body by denying himself food and trudging mile after mile to share Jesus’ message. We need to care for ourselves so we can care for others. A hermitage is a place to escape the violence of words and actions that flow too freely in today’s world, a place to nurture body and soul in order to continue the journey to which we are called.
As we prayerfully enter our own hermitage, what tensions and worries can we leave behind? What creative ideas for fostering peace and nonviolence in the world arise in your heart? Think of ways to move from your resting place of prayer into a place of action to create a more nonviolent world.
Basilica of Santa Chiara: Silence Reigns
St. Clare was a young woman of noble birth in Assisi. Status and wealth were hers for the asking. Instead, she chose to follow Francis into a life of prayer and poverty. Her family was not pleased, though several family members eventually followed her into quiet, prayer, and seclusion. Clare lies in a relatively uncorrupted state in the Basilica of Santa Chiara eight centuries after her death.
One of her final acts was to beg the pope for the privilege of poverty for her followers. Yes, privilege. That privilege affirmed her trust in God to care for all needs. In terms of human activity, Clare did little. She built no churches; she did not preach in town squares. She prayed! And she wrote letters, which in her day was an accomplishment. Letters to her sisters still exist to inspire readers in the 21st century.
Clare’s quiet ministry is a powerful reminder of what is possible from the quiet of home. Prayer is powerful. Words are powerful. Both travel to places feet may not venture. Posts on social media and letters to editors, members of Congress, friends, and relatives inspire others to work for peace and nonviolence. Never underestimate the power of the pen.
Think of someone you might inspire by written messages to consider changes that could make the world a more peaceful planet. Do you have the courage to speak the truth to power in hopes of seeding nonviolence?
Basilica of Santa Maria Degli Angeli: Little Portion
The tiny chapel known as the Porziuncola rests within the shelter of a magnificent basilica in Assisi. Porziuncola means “little portion.” That’s what St. Francis of Assisi desired—less, smaller. Throughout his life, he sought to be less, so that Christ would be more. One wonders how the poor Francis, also known as Il Poverello, would view the magnificent structure built in his honor. The basilica was built in order to protect the small chapel from the elements that swept across the plain below Assisi.
The faithful of the 21st century are called to protect the values inherent in that little portion. Those values can be protected by choices we make in daily living as we speak truth, guard the rights of little ones, feed the poor, care for the sick, and seek peace. We, who live in a world of enormous need, can make a difference. A pilgrimage for peace and nonviolence calls us to this world-changing mission.
In your life, how have you gone forth to make peace? Do you proclaim the value of nonviolence? Look for ways to proclaim the peacemaking endeavors of Jesus, Francis, and Clare in a world that seems to honor hostility and war.
Basilica of St. Francis: Final Rest
The people of Francis’ day in the early 13th century recognized that a saint lived among them. The Basilica of St. Francis that clings to the mountainous slope was constructed in two years following his death. Today the body of the saint lies entombed in an austere block
Francis is buried in this tomb inside the basilica that bears his name. Eight centuries after his death, Francis continues to inspire us to follow his way of peace and nonviolence. His resting place is a spiritual haven possessing what might be called a magnetic grasp on those who gather there for prayer and to pay reverence. St. Francis of Assisi lives in the hearts of the faithful while his way of following Jesus endures. Our call is to preserve the mission.
Is Jesus calling you through the life of St. Francis to be a peacemaker? How will you respond? If you have heard this call before, how can you renew your commitment to peace-making and nonviolence for the rest of your life? Consider inviting someone to join you on your pilgrimage.
The Journey Continues
Pilgrimage is a search for a new place of being, a journey into new life, a quest for values beyond what today’s culture offers. It can be a journey through the mind, heart, and spirit. Most pilgrimages do not end, but continually invite the pilgrims to seek deeper meaning.
The challenge is to continue it throughout life.
Life itself is a pilgrimage, but sacrifice is required. The faith of childhood will be called to grow into adult faith. Where will God put us to work for peace and nonviolence in the way of Sts. Francis and Clare of Assisi?
