Friday, October 31, 2025

Guide me, Teach me, Forgive me . . .

  

 
 
Breathe Into Me the Courage to Make Something New

Thank you for all I forget are gifts, not rights.
Forgive me for all the grievances I remember too well.
Save me from the self-pity, the self-seeking,
the fat-heartedness which is true poverty.

Guide me, if I’m willing, (drive me if I’m not),
into the hard ways of sacrifice which are just and loving.
Make me wide-eyed for beauty, and for my neighbor’s need and goodness;
wide-eyed for peace-making,
and for the confronting power with the call to compassion;
wide-hearted for love and for the unloved,
who are the hardest to touch and need it the most.
Dull the envy in me which criticizes and complains life
into a thousand ugly bits.

Keep me honest and tender enough to heal
Tough enough to be healed of my hypocrisies.
Match my appetite for privilege with the stomach for commitment.

Teach me the great cost of paying attention that,
naked to the dazzle of your back as you pass,
I may know I am always on holy ground.

Breathe into me the restlessness and courage
to make something new, something saving, and something true
that I may understand what it is to rejoice.

Author: Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace

Thursday, October 30, 2025

November 1, 2025: Elvira Ramirez Preaches for the Solemnity of All Saints

A Day to Celebrate Sainting!


 Since the earliest centuries, the church has dedicated one day to honor all saints—those officially recognized and those who are known only to God. Today, November lst, we celebrate the lives of countless women, men, and children who exemplified transparency and personal integrity. These individuals radiated God’s compassion and reached out beyond boundaries of race, creed, gender, ideology, and every kind of difference. Regardless of the cost or the messiness of life, they embraced adversity time and again, choosing to serve others even when circumstances were difficult.

 Often, saints are depicted as pious figures, distant from our everyday experiences, shown in images with halos and ecstatic gazes. Yet, the reality is that saints are people like us—living ordinary lives while struggling with both everyday and extraordinary challenges. What sets them apart is their unwavering focus on God, the Gospel, and God’s people. Each saint, in their own unique way, rolled up their sleeves and bent low to serve others, washing the feet of everyone they met regardless of the conditions or how unwelcoming the environment. They faced adversity from every direction, whether from their culture, government, church, or even their own families and communities.

 On the feast of All Saints, we honor not only those who have died but also those who have experienced the Gospel message and recognize that God dwells with them now. Sainthood does not require death or perfection—it is demonstrated by engaging fully in life, trusting that God’s grace and power enable us to reach beyond ourselves. The saints we celebrate today are those who lived their faith among us, persevering in their trust in God and embodying the Beatitudes, sometimes without even realizing it. They tried, they believed, and they lived as best they could. 

Throughout history, in moments marked by deep suffering—such as the horrors of human trafficking, the exploitation of third world countries, or systematic tragedies like torture, famine, and genocide—saints have responded with tireless compassion. They spend their lives working to alleviate the suffering of humanity, constantly confronting adversity and engaging with the messiness of human existence wherever it appears.

When the dignity of individuals is threatened by the restrictive power wielded by a few, saints rise to name the injustice for what it is: social sin. They boldly advocate for the rights and humanity of all people, refusing to remain silent in the face of oppression.

In times when Christians are faced with the profound choice between life and death for the sake of the Gospel, saints stand firm and resolute. They choose life even amid turmoil and uncertainty, willing to face death itself for the sake of God’s reign and the hope it brings.

When ecclesial restrictions attempt to limit the gifts of the Spirit to certain groups, saints serve as witnesses to the freedom granted by the Spirit. They persist in their testimony regardless of restrictive laws, affirming that the Spirit cannot be confined or controlled.

In confronting discrimination, elitism, and oppression—whether present in society, government, or the church—saints proclaim the reign of God. They embody the voice and heart, call and sign of God, continually working toward a world shaped by God’s vision of justice and mercy for all.

Sainthood is an incarnational reality—the form and expression of holiness may change across ages and cultures, but the Spirit continues to call individuals from every community. It is God’s caring that we witness and God’s love that we share, no matter the cost or messiness. We are invited to face whatever adversity comes our way, for this journey builds character and deepens our faith.

In closing, the words of Rabindranath Tagore beautifully capture the essence of sainthood:

- I slept and dreamt that life was joy.

I awoke and saw that life was service.

I acted and behold, service was joy.

- Rabindranath Tagore

Wednesday, October 22, 2025

Prayer of Quieting and Rest . . .

 



God, you have been with me all through the day, stay with me now.  As the shadows lengthen into darkness let the noisy world grow quiet, let its feverish concerns be stilled, its voices silenced.

In the final moments of this day remind me of what is real, true, and good. But let me not forget that you were as present in the stresses of the day just past as you are now in the silence of this night.

You have made me for day and for night, for work and for rest, for both heaven and earth. Here in this night, let me embrace and not regret the mysterious beauty of my humanity. Keep me in the embrace of your unconditional love through the night, and the day to come.

Surround us with your silence and give us the rest that only you can give     . . .  peace now and forever

(Adapted: My Day Is Ending, Evelyn Underhill . . . original source unknown)

 

 

The Fullness of grace, mystery, and hope . .

 


                 I am touched to the core

                 with a presence I can not explain

                 A loving plan enfolds me

                 Someone is always believing in me

                 calling me forth, calling me on

                 I am standing in grace

                 filled with mystery

                 touched with the eternal

                 I cannot get away from goodness

                 I think we name you God.

 

                 You surround me like a gentle breeze

                 My idols live on in my life

                 My inconsistent values stay

                 My immaturity walks besides me

                 My sin is ever before me

                 Your love for me stays the same

                 I tremble in the face of such graciousness

                 Your reverence for me astounds me

                 You breathe out hope

                 and I catch on …

 

 

                 Macrina Wiederkehr

                    Seasons of Your Heart

                    Photo by Doris Klein, CSA

A Quieting Prayer . . .

 


I weave a silence on my lips,
I weave a silence into my mind,
I weave a silence within my heart.

I close my ears to distractions,
I close my eyes to attentions,
I close my heart to temptations.

Calm me, O God, as you stilled the storm,
Still me, O God, keep me from harm.
Let all the tumult within me cease,
Enfold me, God, in your peace.
(Author Unknown ~ Celtic Tradition)




A Blessing Prayer . . .




What is a blessing but a rain of grace falling generously into the lives of those in need; and who among us is without need?

May the Spirit touch your spirit in this (morning, midday, evening) pause.

May this day be a pathway strewn with blessings.

May your work this day be your love made visible.

May you breathe upon the wounds of those with whom you work.

May you open yourself to God’s breathing.

May you honor the flame of love that burns inside you.

May your voice this day be a voice of encouragement.

May your life be an answer to someone’s prayer.

May you own a grateful heart.

May you have enough joy to give you hope, enough pain to make you wise.

May there be no room in your heart for hatred.

May you be free from violent thoughts.

When you look into the window of your soul may you see the face of God.

May the lamp of your life shine upon all you meet this day.

                                                  Macrina Wiederkehr

                                                  -Seven Sacred Pauses


In praise of presence . . .

"Where we are

must be more beautiful

than it was

before our coming"



Blessed moments . . .


“Life is not

 measured

by the

number

of breaths

we take,

but by the

number

of moments

that take

our breath

away”

 

Tuesday, October 14, 2025

Placing our Nation in God's Hands . . .



 
A Prayer for Our Nation

May we as a nation be guided by the Divine
 to rediscover the sacred flame of our national heritage,
 which so many have given their lives to safeguard;

Let the wounds of separation and division be healed
 by opening our hearts to listen to the truth on all sides,
 allowing us to find a higher truth that includes all;

May we learn to honor and enjoy our diversity
 and differences as a people, even as we
 more deeply touch our fundamental unity;

May we, as a people, undergo a transformation
 that will draw forth individuals to lead our nation
 who embody courage, compassion, and a higher vision;

May our leaders inspire us, and we so inspire
 each other with our potential as individuals
 and as a nation, that a new spirit of forgiveness,
 caring, and honesty be born in our nation;

May we, as a united people, move with clear,
 directed purpose to take our place within
 the community of nations to help build
 a better future for all humankind;

May we as a nation rededicate ourselves
 to truly living as one nation, under God,
 indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.


 Corinne McLaughlin and Gordon Davidson in Prayers for Healing edited by Maggie Oman

Teresa ~ A Mega~Flower!

 



On October 15, the feast of St. Teresa of Avila will be observed in certain Catholic-Christian and Carmelite circles.  As Theresa of Lisieux referred to herself as the “little flower of Jesus," I suppose Teresa of Avila could be considered the “Big Flower” or “Mega-Flower” of Jesus!   She was a giant at the time she lived in the 16th century and her presence and force is still with us today!

Teresa of Avila (1515-1582) “is one of the most beloved spiritual figures in history . . . she is known around the world as a great mystic, saint, reformer” and the first woman to be named Doctor of the Church!!  After a special vision, she was moved to reform the Carmelite order. She founded the community known as the Discalced (shoeless) Carmelites in Avila.  “The sisters wore hemp sandals, but their name referred to the strict poverty that was a feature of Teresa’s reform.”

She was the foundress of 17 Carmel convents, the author of four books, and considered one of the outstanding religious teachers of Christian prayer.  She was known to have a charismatic personality, along with wisdom and courage that was deeply rooted in a special love relationship with God.

Throughout her life, she suffered from migraine headaches, and other physical ailments, and experienced dryness in prayer for much of her life. However, it is also written that Teresa had the privilege of hearing God speak to her. She also began to see visions and Jesuit and Dominican priests came to see if this was true. They were convinced and declared that the visions were holy and authentic. 

In accounts of her life, it is said that when she would move into a prayerful ecstasy, there were always a couple of sisters that were appointed to hold onto the hem of her habit so that as she was lifted up in prayerful rapture, she wouldn't injure herself.

There also is the great story told of her on her travels where she encountered all the hazards of donkey carts which was one of the means of transportation of her time.  “One time her cart overturned, throwing her into a muddy river.  When she complained to God about this ordeal, she heard a voice from within her say, ‘This is how I treat my friends.’ “Yes, my Lord,” she answered, “and that is why you have so few of them.”

Prayers of Teresa:

Christ Has No Body
Christ has no body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
+  + +


May today there be peace within.  May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.  May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.  May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.  May you be content knowing you are a child of God.  Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise, and love.  It is there for each and every one of us.
+ + +


Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

A Time to Worry - a time to not . . .

 


This leads me to reflect on the symbol of the Worry Basket in the Native American cultures. It is known that in some Native American cultures, you were not allowed to bring your worries into the household of another person.  It was considered improper to enter with negativity within your spirit.  So many homes had “worry baskets” outside their homes and you would place your worries in the basket to rest before you entered the home.

Some Native Americans had Burden Baskets which hung by a strap across their foreheads and down their backs. The baskets were in cone shape – probably a prototype to the first backpack! Again, after collecting items of foods, etc., for her family, the woman would hang the basket by the entrance of their home.  Then if visitors came,  they waited outside for an invitation to come in; if they were not invited in, they left not offended, but understanding that it was not a good time for a visit.  If they were invited in, they were expected to deposit their troubles in the basket so the visit would be pleasant and the conversation would not be mixed with bad feelings.

There are also Worry Dolls from Guatemala.  It is said that if children could not sleep because they held worries or fears, then they were given Worry Dolls to tell their worries to and then the dolls were put under their pillows.  The dolls would hold their worries and carry them away.  Sometimes the parents would come and remove the dolls - to which the child upon rising the next morning would be refreshed because the dolls had taken their worries away.

This is a time of great worry in our world, in our families, and deep within our Selves – unrest in politics, governments, serious issues from our planet, such as, global warming, lack of resources for peoples because of droughts, famines, fires, floods - poverty, scarcity of food and water, drug wars, violence, and so much more – to name only a few of the uncertainties, anxieties and fears that cause many of us to be “wobbly” within because of worry.

Recently I heard someone speak about God’s sacred heart.  Maybe this is God’s burden basket that is offered moment by moment to all of us to place our worries, fears, and concerns within for God to hold for us – And while they are held within God’s loving heart, they are transformed. We just have to keep learning how to let go of the control and grow in our trust, hope, mercy, and love


Two Days We Should Not Worry  (Author Unknown)

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension. One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.  We cannot undo a single act we performed; we cannot erase a single word we said.  Yesterday is gone forever.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with all its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and its poor performance; Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow’s sun will rise, either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet to be born.

This leaves only one day, Today.  Any person can fight the battle of just one day.  It is when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.
It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad, it is the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring. Let us, therefore, live but one day at a time.
 
The Worry Tree!

The Carpenter I hired to help me restore and old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence.

On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands. When opening the door, he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss.
Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier.

"Oh, that's my trouble tree", he replied. "I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again."

"Funny thing is", he smiled, "when I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before."

Author unknown 


A pondering . . .



The paradox of being a servant leader, who must be:

Strong enough to be weak
Successful enough to fail
Busy enough to make time
Wise enough to say “I don’t know”
Serious enough to laugh
Rich enough to be poor
Right enough to say “I’m wrong”
Compassionate enough to discipline
Mature enough to be childlike
Important enough to be last
Planned enough to be spontaneous
Controlled enough to be flexible
Free enough to endure captivity
Knowledgeable enough to ask questions
Loving enough to be angry
Great enough to be anonymous
Responsible enough to play
Assured enough to be rejected
Victorious enough to lose
Industrious enough to relax
Leading enough to serve

– Brewer, as cited by Hansel, 1987

Tuesday, October 7, 2025

Letting go, letting be, letting God!




 “I worry too much. Autumn trees ask me not to worry.

They, like Jesus, suggest trust rather than worry.

So often in autumn I want to go lean my head against a tree

and ask what it feels like to lose so much, to be so empty,

so detached, to take off one’s shoes that well,

and then simply to stand and wait for God’s refilling.

It sounds so simple, so easy. It isn’t easy. But it’s possible! . . .

Our hearts are hungering for the Sacrament of Letting Go.

Once we discover that we already possess enough grace to let go,

trust begins to form in the center of who we are.

Then we can take off our shoes and stand empty and vulnerable,

eager to receive God’s next gift.

And let us pray for one another, for emptying is painful,

and the Body of Christ who we are calls us to support

each other in this autumn effort. The Body of Christ also stands

stripped, crucified, waiting for the new life that each of us brings to it.”


-Seasons of Your Heart-

Macrina Wiederkehr




Autumn Prayer

 



O God of Creation, 

you have blessed us with the changing of the seasons. 

As we embrace these autumn months,
May the earlier setting of the sun
Remind us to take time to rest. 

May the crunch of the leaves beneath our feet
Remind us of the brevity of this earthly life. 

May the steam of our breath in the cool air remind us that it is you who give us your breath of life. 

May the scurrying of the squirrels and the migration of the birds
Remind us that you call us to follow your dream for us. 
We praise you for your goodness forever and ever.

 - Author Unknown



In Praise of Autumn . . .

 



O God of Autumn loveliness, we come before you with hearts full of gratitude, recognizing the vibrant tapestry of colors that enrich our lives. The changing season brings forth a palette of hues—deep reds, hopeful greens, dazzling golds, and the comforting, weathered browns—all reminders of your abundant creativity and care.

We thank you, gracious God, for the richness that autumn bestows. The reds symbolize passion and warmth, the greens offer us hope for what is to come, the golds represent the depth and value found in our journey, and the browns speak of stability and endurance. Each color paints our lives with meaning, especially during this season of harvest when we gather together in celebration.

As we witness the transformation of the trees, we see our own stories mirrored in their cycles. Like leaves, we too are subject to the winds of change—sometimes blown far from where we began, sometimes warmed by the sun, sometimes battered by rain and storms. Yet through it all, we stand as testaments to lives well lived, shaped by both joy and adversity.

Your trees remind us, O God, of the importance of release and trust. Just as trees let go of their leaves to allow for new growth, we are called to embrace transformation, though it often comes with resistance. We cling to what is familiar—our colors, our comforts, our homes—yet you invite us to trust the process of change so that new life may emerge.

God of the Autumn, we ask you to release us from our attachments. Let your Spirit carry us to the places where we are most needed, and plant us where we can find true warmth and belonging. Help us to be deeply rooted in you, drawing our strength and purpose from your presence.

As we look around during this time of harvest, we rejoice in the abundance that surrounds us, both in the world and within our own hearts. We pray for continued gratitude for this plentifulness, for open hands to share what we have, and for willing spirits to give of ourselves freely and joyfully.

As we journey toward the winter season, may we nurture the spirit of springtime within us—a sign of enduring hope. We trust, O God of Transformation, that you see potential and promise in all of life. Prepare our hearts and steady our resolve so that we may respond to your call with unwavering faith and love.

(Source Unknown)

 


An Autumn Prayer . . .

 


A Prayer for Autumn Days

By Joyce Rupp

God of the seasons, there is a time for everything; there is a time for dying and a time for rising. We need courage to enter into the transformation process.

God of autumn, the trees are saying goodbye to their green, letting go of what has been. We, too, have our moments of surrender, with all their insecurity and risk. Help us to let go when we need to do so.

God of fallen leaves lying in colored patterns on the ground, our lives have their own patterns. As we see the patterns of our own growth, may we learn from them.

God of misty days and harvest moon nights, there is always the dimension of mystery and wonder in our lives. We always need to recognize your power-filled presence. May we gain strength from this.

God of harvest wagons and fields of ripened grain, many gifts of growth lie within the season of our surrender. We must wait for harvest in faith and hope. Grant us patience when we do not see the blessings.

God of geese going south for another season, your wisdom enables us to know what needs to be left behind and what needs to be carried into the future. We yearn for insight and vision.

God of flowers touched with frost and windows wearing white designs, may your love keep our hearts from growing cold in the empty seasons.

God of life, you believe in us, you enrich us, you entrust us with the freedom to choose life.  For all this, we are grateful. (From: May I Have This Dance?

·       How are you being invited to enter into transformation?

·       To what are you saying “goodbye” and entering a time of surrender, insecurity, and risk?

·       How are you aware of the patterns of growth that have been part of your life journey?  What have you learned from them?

·       Are you aware of God’s power-filled presence in your times of walking in mystery and wonder?

·       What does patience look like in your life?  Feel like? May you be blessed by its teaching.

·       Have you ever had to leave something behind while at the same time moving into a “holy newness” of the future? What insights and visions did you embrace?

·       Ask the God of the seasons to keep your heart from growing cold in the empty seasons.

·       God of life, we live, and move and have our being in you. We are grateful!

Saturday, October 4, 2025

Francis, A Fiery Spirit . . .



 Dancing Francis

Viterbo University, La Crosse, WI

The Fiery Spirit of St. Francis of Assisi

There is a story from the Desert Fathers and Mothers in which Rabbi Lot approaches Rabbi Joseph and asks, “Rabbi, as much as I am able, I practice a small rule of life, all the little fasts, some prayer and meditation, and remain quiet, and as much as possible, I keep my thoughts clean. What else should I do?” In response, Rabbi Joseph rises, stretches his hands toward heaven, his fingers like torches of flame, and replies, “Why not be turned into fire?” This image of being set ablaze by faith perfectly introduces the life and legacy of St. Francis of Assisi.

Francis of Assisi: A Life Set Aflame

Today we celebrate Francis of Assisi, a man who not only became fire himself but ignited the world through his generosity, creativity, imagination, dedication to the poor, and radical adherence to the Gospel. Francis was known for his profound faith, deep prayer life, and abiding love for both God and all of creation. Many commentators have called Francis “a Second Christ,” recognizing his relentless efforts to imitate Jesus in every aspect of his life.

Francis was born in 1181 in the Tuscan countryside of Assisi, the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. His youth was marked by luxury and ease; he experienced little formal education and was largely preoccupied with leisure and enjoyment. In today’s terms, Francis would be counted among the bold and beautiful, the rich and famous, the young and the restless. He was popular, charming, the life of every gathering, talented in business, and also aspired to become a troubadour and poet. He was universally liked, always cheerful, a dreamer, and a natural leader.

At age twenty, Francis sought adventure as a knight and participated in a battle with a neighboring country. However, his townspeople lost, and Francis spent a year in prison. After his release and return to Assisi, he fell seriously ill and became dissatisfied with his former way of life. Enduring a spiritual crisis, he turned to solitude, prayer, and service to the poor.

One pivotal conversion experience occurred when Francis, while riding, encountered a leper begging for money. Despite his initial disgust and desire to avoid the leper, Francis soon had a change of heart. He returned, gave the man all his money, and kissed his hand. When Francis looked back, the leper had disappeared. From that moment, he dressed in rags and devoted himself to serving lepers and the poor.

Another turning point came as Francis prayed in the Church of San Damiano. There, he heard the voice of Christ from the cross say, “Francis, repair my church.” Receiving this mandate and inspired by the Gospel’s words—“The kingdom of God is at hand, cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, drive out devils; freely have you received, freely give. Carry neither gold nor silver nor money, nor bag, nor two coats, nor sandals…”—Francis embraced his vocation to preach to the poor.

Twelve companions soon joined Francis in his mission, sharing a literal interpretation of Christ’s command to own no property and to rely on God’s providence. Their task was to preach—“using words if necessary”—demonstrating God’s love through both their words and actions. Francis named their community the “Order of Friars Minor,” or “order of lesser brothers.” They aimed to live as true brothers to all, revealing by their love that every human being is a sister or brother. Francis did not retreat to a monastery but lived among the people, seeking and finding God in the world.

Francis’s spirituality was incarnational. He saw God as a loving Father and Creator, believed everything he had was a gift, viewed Christ as his Brother, and felt the Spirit’s love burning within him. Initially, their radical way of life—barefoot, dressed in rags, speaking of God’s love—startled people. Soon, however, the joy and celebration of life among these “barefoot beggars” became contagious.

An early biographer describes Francis’s appearance: “In stature he was rather on the short side, his head of moderate size and round, his face long, his forehead smooth and low, his eyes of medium size, black and candid, his hair dark, his eyebrows straight, his nose even-shaped, thin and straight, his ears prominent but delicate. In conversation he was agreeable, ardent and penetrating, his voice firm, sweet-toned and clearly audible, his lips delicate, his beard black and rather sparse, his neck slender, his shoulders straight, his arms short, his hands small, with long fingers, his feet small, his skin tender, his clothing rough, his sleep brief and his bounty most liberal.”

Francis’s brotherhood extended to all of God’s creation. He had a deep love for animals, especially birds, whom he called his brothers and sisters. In one story, Francis preached to hundreds of birds, encouraging them to thank God for their beautiful feathers, independence, and divine care. The birds remained still, listening attentively, and only flew away when Francis dismissed them.

Another well-known story tells of the wolf of Gubbio. Driven by hunger, the wolf attacked the townspeople, who became too frightened to work in their fields. Francis offered to speak with the wolf. Meeting the animal, Francis’s gentle approach calmed it, and he brokered a peace between the wolf and the people: they would feed the wolf, and in return, it would live peacefully among them.

In his final years, Francis endured great suffering. Longing to share in Christ’s passion, he received a vision and the stigmata—the marks of Christ’s wounds. Years of poverty and wandering left Francis in poor health. In his last months, blind and in pain, he composed the “Canticle of the Sun,” a joyful hymn praising God with all creation. He died at age 45, by which time several thousand friars across Europe carried on his mission. Francis was canonized two years after his death.

 

What does Francis’s life say to us today? First, he calls us to live with joy, simplicity, and faithfulness to the Gospel. We are encouraged to seek meaning and fulfillment in our relationship with God, even if it means looking foolish or changing our attitudes and behaviors.

Francis challenges us to examine our relationship with creation and to be advocates for the environment. His words inspire us: “Start by doing what's necessary; then do what's possible; and suddenly you are doing the impossible.”

Francis was called to “repair the church.” We are invited to live with integrity and courage, building a church characterized by inclusivity, compassion, forgiveness, and hope—so that the message and mission of Jesus may be revealed, using words if necessary.

Francis’s approach to suffering teaches us to seek grace in difficult times, trusting that God’s gentle and loving presence will bring us peace, healing, and courage.

By embracing poverty, Francis reminds us that all we have is a gift to be shared with others. We are guardians and stewards of creation, sisters and brothers to all.

In kissing the leper and taming the wolf, Francis invites us to confront our fears and seek courage and love to embrace the challenges in our lives. We are called to identify and address the “wolves” in our world—those hungers and fears in ourselves, our communities, and society—so that we may live with trust, justice, harmony, and peace. As Francis said, “While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.”

 

Let us remember the words of the Responsorial Psalm, a fitting prayer for Francis and for us today:

Take care of me, God, I rely on you for safety. You are my destiny; my life is in your hands. Even in my sleep, God whispers to my heart. God is my constant companion, You will direct my steps…




A Franciscan Prayer for Peace

 



 

      Lord, make us instruments of your Peace.  In a world all too prone to violence and revenge, we commit ourselves to the Gospel values of mercy, justice, compassion, and love.

 

We will seek daily to promote forgiveness and healing in our hearts, our families, and our world. Where there is hatred, let us sow love; Where there is injury, let us cultivate peace.

 

Fear and distance prevent people from recognizing all as brothers and sisters; tensions lead to violence and mistrust; We will strive to honor the dignity that God places in each and every human person.

 

Grant that we may not seek to be understood as to understand; To be loved as to love. Our failure to understand the other can create exclusion in all its negative forms – racism, marginalization of those who are poor, sick, the immigrant; it can also create situations of domination, occupation, oppression and war.

 

We pledge to seek the way of solidarity, to create hearts, homes, and communities where all people will experience inclusion, hospitality, and understanding.

For it is in giving that we receive, in pardoning that we are pardoned and in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.

 

Let us Pray:

Lord God, create in us:

-the Capacity to hear and understand the voices of those who suffer from every form of violence, injustice, and dehumanization;

 

-the Openness to receive and honor people from other cultures, languages, religious traditions, and geographical regions;

 

-the Creativity to explore new ways of communication and dialogue through

music, poetry, performing arts, and the mass media;

 

-the Audacity to undertake the building of communities of forgiveness, healing,

and reconciliation.

To God who is above all and in all are the glory and the honor. Amen


(source/unknown)



photo: de