Young St. Francis kept trying to leave home to pursue greatness. Dazzled by the heroism of knights and soldiers, St. Francis attempted twice to enter into battle or to join the military. Sickness, imprisonment, and the continued call to return home became his lot instead of armed valor and glory. While he did eventually travel great distances, St. Francis grew to be great by condescending to become very little.
On a recent pilgrimage to Italy, I was near the castle fortress overlooking Assisi as I took in the quiet beauty of the medieval town as the sun slowly lowered. The place of burial for St. Francis was awash in warm light and I soaked up the stillness of the moment. As my mind rifled through memories from the past few days, I thought of the holy places I had visited and the different talks and tours I had taken in. A simple thought came to mind and I made a note on my phone so as to not forget it.
“St. Francis kept trying to leave home to do great and noble things. Instead, it was in Assisi that he became a saint.”
It was in Assisi, the place where the follies of his youth were known and the place where people were aware of his flaws, that the Lord chose to craft Francis into St. Francis. In many ways it is easier to go elsewhere to become holy. To be holy at home, where your lack of holiness is clearly known, is one of the most difficult things. Yet it was this point that the Lord wanted to remind me of as I stood at the end of my pilgrimage. Home is where we can become holy.
I, too, like Francis often find myself wanting to run off to some corner of the world and do great and heroic things. Noble missions or bold adventures or grand quests for the Lord are enticing. To do something enduring and memorable seems to be a desire within all humans, even if what we consider memorable varies from person to person. Yet here the Lord was reminding me that in our native place, in our homes, among the people who know us, He can and does make us holy, if we permit Him.
I’m certain St. Francis experienced trials as he moved from wealthy and wild to radical poverty and humility. The people who knew his previous escapades probably found it hard to believe that Francis was changed or a new man. For us, too, change can be hardest around the people who seem to know us best. Thankfully, however, holiness is possible in any situation. Amid the mess of our current lives, Christ can break in and offer a new perspective, a new way to live, and an abundance of new graces. The lives of the saints show God doing this time and time again. The same can certainly be true for us, too.
This pilgrimage was a reminder that the Lord works in situations where it isn’t always clear that He is doing so. As I prayed in front of the body of Bl. Carlo Acutis, I was again led to consider how a brief, relatively quiet life can have eternal repercussions and impact people far outside the imagined scope of one’s life. The same is true for the poor one of Assisi as well his followers and the followers of St. Clare. The various martyrs I encountered echo the same message: Christ does surprising things in surprising ways. The painful, violent deaths of the early Church martyrs bore fruit in ways they couldn’t expect and couldn’t imagine.
How might the Lord be doing the same thing with us now? Our small sacrifices, triumphs, pursuit of virtue, and faithfulness to the Lord in the present moment are surely carrying a weight beyond what we can perceive. St. Francis didn’t know where his life would lead when he began to say Yes to the Lord. Certainly if he did, he might have been tempted to resist more or try to pursue a different path. The same holds true for us. We don’t know what the Lord will do with our little offerings, our quiet Yes to some unseen sacrifice, the moments we want to run away and yet choose to not. Wherever we are right now is the perfect place for the Lord to begin to make us holy.
Like St. Francis of Assisi, we don’t need to go anywhere for the Lord to begin His good work in us.
It can happen here at home.
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Photo by Achim Ruhnau on Unsplash