Category Archives: Formation

You are called to become a saint

Whether you Like it or not. (Editor’s comment)

Canon Law Made Easy

One of the reasons we celebrate ‘All Saints Day’ and ‘All Souls Day’ one day after the other is a reminder that all souls are called to be saints.
In ministering as a Catholic priest, I sometimes get the impression that Catholics are more interested in the minimum than the maximum.

What I mean is that too many Catholics seem to have heard that what is required to be a good Catholic is to go to Mass once a week and confession once a year. That’s it.

Therefore, they do their duty. They check the boxes. They complete the test. They reckon they’ve done just enough to stay out of hell, that God will forgive them the rest, and they’ll coast into heaven having done what’s required.

They seem, to me, like the high-school kid who was told by his teacher that his term paper needed to be five pages long with footnotes, so he turns in a mediocre effort that is five pages of mush with a few footnotes.

This isn’t what a term paper is for. The term paper is a set part of the coursework so the student will not just learn how to write a five-page paper, but also learn something in the process. The term paper was a means to an end. It was not an end in itself. 

So it is with the practice of the Catholic faith. The rules and regulations of the Catholic faith — going to Mass each Sunday and confession once a year, the precepts of the Church and the Ten Commandments — these strictures and structures are a means to an end, not an end in themselves.

They are the rules for the game of sainthood. They are the map for the journey.

The game and the journey are far greater. The destination of the journey and the goal of the game is sanctity. To put it plainly: All of us are supposed to become saints.
Our hearts should burn with the words of St. Thérèse of Lisieux: “You must be a whole saint or no saint at all!”

Once we have entered into the body of Christ through baptism, our destiny is total sanctity. In the Eastern Church, they call this theosis. It means becoming transformed into the full image of Christ.

In St. Paul’s words to the Ephesians, it means “growing up into the full humanity of Jesus.” A saint is not simply a person who is more pious than anyone else. A saint is a person who has become more himself than anyone else.

A saint is an ordinary person who has been made complete and whole and has become the fully alive person God created him to be.

I get the feeling, however, that most Catholics find such an idea to be excessive or extreme. It is as if they are saying to God, “You know, I’m not such a great person. I’m not ambitious. I know you are preparing all those mansions in heaven. Well, I’ll be content with a little shed down in the lower gardens. That’s all right for me. Just as long as I squeeze through the pearly gates, I’ll be fine.”

God has much greater things prepared for us than we can ever dare to hope or imagine. He wants nothing less than our total transformation. He created us to be shining stars in the heavens — brilliant examples of his complete, creative love. He wants us to enjoy the fullness of life in Christ, and many seem content with just getting by.
One of the reasons we celebrate All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ Day one day after the other is a reminder that all souls are called to be saints. We pray for the repose of the souls of our loved ones on All Souls’ Day, but why do we do this?

Saying that we pray “for their repose” makes it sounds passive. Are we simply praying that they will rest in peace? There is more to it than that. We are also praying that God will continue his work of grace in their lives and bring them to the full state of holiness and sanctity for which they were created.

Purgatory is not simply a place of rest. When we die, if we are not in mortal sin, we do not simply go to a retirement home in the sky. Purgatory is not a place of hammocks on the beach, where we can finally put up our feet and have a well-deserved rest.

Purgatory is the place where we finish the work we have left undone on this earth. In purgatory, our remaining weakness, cowardice, lust, greed and selfishness are burned away. Purgatory is a place of progress, not simply a place of peace.

When we pray for our loved ones on All Souls’ Day and throughout the month of November, we should be praying in an active way, not only that they will find peace, but that they will grow up into the full stature of Christ Jesus and rapidly rid themselves of every weight that holds them back — so they might become the radiant images of Christ they were created to be.

As for ourselves, there is a beautiful prayer in the funeral service: “That God might help us to use aright the time that is left to us here on earth.”

The work of becoming a saint is easier here than it is in purgatory. All of us still have plenty of work to do as we cooperate with God’s grace in the great adventure of sanctity. This work requires a courageous and joyful spirit. It requires discipline and the spirit of the warrior.

Again, we hear the call of little St. Thérèse, who said to her novices, “Sanctity: It must be won at the point of a sword!”

Father Dwight Longenecker’s latest book, The Romance of Religion, will be published in February 2014 by Thomas Nelson. Visit his blog, browse his books and be in touch at

John Dewey Destroyed the Souls of Our Children

Tradition, Family, Property – TFP

How John Dewey Destroyed the Souls of Our Children

February 19, 2018 | Edwin Benson

The story of American public education begins with Horace Mann. It was Mann who popularized the idea that American schools should teach all students, be non-sectarian, and tax-supported. A little less than a half-century passed between Mann’s death and the advent of John Dewey.

That half-century may well be the most dynamic period of American History. In Horace Mann’s world, schools were small, scattered, and teachers had to teach a small number of widely-varied students in one-room schoolhouses. By 1900, there were still many rural schools, but the United States was quickly becoming an urban nation. Whether attracted to city lights or forced out by crippling debts, many farmers were moving to the cities. Once there, they mixed with immigrants sweeping into the nation. In some ways, city life was more convenient—and certainly more entertaining. But urban life was also more dangerous and demanded skills that the schoolmarm could not teach in her one-room school.

To respond to those changes a political movement grew. The historian’s shorthand term for this movement is progressivism. If Horace Mann set out education’s goals, then John Dewey provided the progressive methodology. The following comes from an admirer and contemporary of Dewey’s:

The foremost interpreter, in educational terms, of the great social and industrial changes through which we have passed, and the one who has done more since 1895 to think out and state for us an educational philosophy suited to the changing conditions in our national life, is John Dewey…. Believing that the public school is the chief remedy for the ills of society, he has tried to change the work of the school so as to make it a miniature of society itself.1

Dewey was prolific, having written or collaborated in the writing of more than thirty books from 1887 to 1949, as well as myriad articles. That output, plus the obtuse nature of Dewey’s writing style, makes it difficult to briefly sum up his thoughts. What follows will be a capsule view of a complex philosophy.

Dewey’s overall position is sometimes called Pragmatism, holding that knowledge arises through, “an active adaptation of the human organism to its environment.”2 Knowledge and truth are discovered by the student instead of being imparted by the teacher. Truth changes according to changing circumstances. Success lies not in knowing the tried-and-true lessons of life but in the ability to adapt by discarding outworn ideas and embracing new standards.

According to Dewey, traditional schools inculcated obedience, which he argued was a ‘negative virtue,’ inconsistent with democratic society. Lecture and rote-learning produced students that were docile, unquestioning, and likely to submit to authority.

Dewey held that:

In addition to factual material, schools should promote:➧ Physical and mental activity, including play
➧ Contact with nature
➧ Development of one’s ability to express oneself and understand others

Within the school, children should:➧ Actively work rather than passively listen
➧ Learn about life by doing
➧ Develop attitudes of co-operation and responsibility
➧ Develop the ability to use tools, both manual and mental
➧ Grow in originality and initiative
➧ Help to govern the school

Here can be seen many aspects of modern school life. Physical education, field trips, student councils, team sports, and a focus on problem solving all derive from the musings of John Dewey. Dewey’s dismissal of traditional morality can be seen in many places in his writing, as when he stated, “Morals that professedly neglect human nature end by emphasizing those qualities of human nature that are most commonplace and average; they exaggerate the herd instinct to conformity.”3

However, in other writings, Dewey was less critical of the herd. Like most progressives, he had a deep distrust of the value of the individual:

Individuals are led to concentrate in moral introspection upon their own vices and virtues, and to neglect the character of the environment.… Let us perfect ourselves within, and in due season changes in society will come of themselves is the teaching. And while saints are engaged in introspection, burly sinners run the world.4

For Dewey, the drive toward the collective was virtually automatic. The young needed to be able to live and function in a world that was not primarily composed of individuals:

Society is the process of associating in such ways that experiences, ideas, emotions, values are transmitted and made common. To this active process, both the individual and the institutionally organized may truly be said to be subordinate.5

An example of the practical effects of this philosophy is the emphasis on having students work in groups.

Under Dewey’s leadership, Columbia’s Teachers’ College became the premier school of education in the United States. Its graduates fanned out to other universities. By the time of his death in 1952, Dewey was roundly acknowledged to be the most influential American educator.

6 Dewey’s influence only grew after his death. For decades, his methods were applied in large urban school districts, but seldom in rural ones. Smaller school districts, with fewer resources and a ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ attitude, often scoffed at Dewey’s progressive methods.

The Impact of Religion on Education

By the 1960s, that had changed. Better transportation made it possible for several rural schools to consolidate. Many of those newly consolidated districts were suburban. Modern suburbanites demanded schools that employed progressive methods. By 1970, it was safe to say that every certified teacher had been trained by the disciples of John Dewey.

If Dewey’s theories had been accurate, it should have been the beginning of a bright new age of understanding. Instead, the world of the young has become uglier and increasingly self-centered.

What really happens when you couple Dewey’s pragmatic and collectivist ideas with the value neutrality that grew out of Mann’s non-sectarianism? The product is a philosophy that sees the student as merely an animal who functions in a kind of stimulus/response/adaptation cycle. Education is tedious because its utilitarian nature subverts development of the ability to see the beauty that underlies much literature, history, and the natural sciences. At the same time, its collective nature devalues them as individuals. Their souls deadened, students see only an ugly world—one which they do not care to understand.

Progressive education has ultimately failed because its premises are anti-human. Mann’s and Dewey’s ideologies must bear much of the responsibility for the deplorable state of American public education.


[1] Ellwood C. Cubberly, Public Education in the United States – A Study an Interpretation of American Educational History (Cambridge, MA: The Riverside Press, 1947), 506-507.

[2] A useful introduction to Dewey’s philosophy is his entry on the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy.

[3] John Dewey, Human Nature and Conduct – An Introduction to Social Psychology (New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1922), p. 6.

[4] John Dewey, Reconstruction in Philosophy (New York: Henry Holt and Co., 1920) p. 196.

[5] Ibid, p. 207.

[6] William T. Kane, S.J., History of Education (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1954), pp. 422-423.

Seek the Gospel Life


Francis of Assisi is known as Everybody’s Saint. In fact, many men and women love him so much that they make a lifetime commitment to follow his way of life. Is God calling you to follow Francis?

Questions a prospective member might ask…
What’s the main difference between a practicing Catholic and a Secular Franciscan?
The difference is that in addition to following all the guidelines and fulfilling the obligations of the Church, we make a permanent commitment to live a life of penance, sacrifice and service to God and others as we try to spread the Gospel in the way of Saint Francis of Assisi.

What are some of the qualifications that a person must have to become a Franciscan?
You must be a practicing Catholic in full agreement with all the teachings of the Church, and other laws and not belong to any Religious or other Third Order. You must have a joyful, peaceful disposition with the desire to help and serve others. .

Do I have to attend a lot of meetings? I’m already bogged down with too many.
We have Fraternity meetings once a month. These meetings must have top priority over all your other meetings. This is our special place and time for sharing the spirit of St. Francis with our Franciscan brothers and sisters.

What about dues? How much is it a month?
Members are expected to give to a Common Fund which supports the fraternity and their charities. They are also expected to give to a Regional Fund which supports the Secular Franciscan Order in the Region and Nationally.

Those who cannot pay into the Common and Regional funds as outlined, due to financial hardship, are not required to do so. They will only be asked to contribute according to their means. No one is turned away from the Secular Franciscan Order because of financial difficulty. All are expected to willingly do penance and make sacrifices to give proof of their love for God. The money they give should represent the sacrifices they make for God during the year.

Is the Secular Franciscan Order part of any other Franciscan organization?
We are united in a worldwide Franciscan Order founded by Saint Francis of Assisi over 750 years ago. Our Franciscan family consists of Priests, Religious Brothers and Sisters and lay Franciscans…which we Seculars are. There are, worldwide, about one and a half million lay Franciscans. Here in the USA we have over 25,000 members.

If you’re united into such a worldwide Order, what means are used to guide you?
The Rule, Constitutions and particular Statutes are the guidelines for all of us. It unites us to work as one family for the same spiritual goals and lead us away from the materialistic way of life. We are committed by our vocation to center our life on Christ and to build the Kingdom of God in temporal situations and activities. We live our membership in the Church and in society as an inseparable reality. We allow God to be in charge of our life.

What do you do at your meetings?
 We begin with Mass — Socialize — Say our Franciscan Office, the “Liturgy of the Hours” — Discuss “On- Going-Formation” in which we discuss some aspect of Francis’ life and apply it to our own way of living in the world — Share Scripture, ideas and apostolates — And we have a short business meeting.

Are there any set prayers that must be said everyday? 
Members are required to say a daily office; usually morning and evening prayer of the “Liturgy of the Hours”

Would I wear any kind of a habit or distinctive sign to identify me as a Secular Franciscan?
 You wouldn’t wear any habit as the members did in the 1200s and for many years afterward. To show that you’re a member, you would now wear a “Tau Cross” or a pin, ring, medal, etc. that displays the “Tau Cross.”

What kind of works do you do? 
There are no obligatory works; but, we do have works that we call “apostolates” — these are works that everyone can do. Each Secular Franciscan fraternity tries to fill the needs in their own area and parish. We have individual personal apostolates as well as those where many of the members work together. For example, we work as volunteers in soup kitchens, food and clothing collection centers, hospitals, nursing homes, or act as Eucharistic Ministers, etc. We try to give dignity and courtesy in the face of neglect and degradation. You may choose to work on whatever apostolates that would suit your ability and time.

What kind of spiritual activities do you have? 
We have Retreats, Days of Recollection, Holy Hours, Rosary and other spiritual activities in conjunction with our Region brothers and sisters.

If you want to know more about the Franciscans or find a fraternity contact the editor on our home page.


Francis presents his rule

Franciscan Formation is the life blood of any fraternity. The vitality of any Franciscan community is centered on ongoing formation, living the Gospel life with our brothers and sisters in sharing faith experiences. In this section the topics for discussion are, for example:

Our prayer life; and Cultivating a life of Franciscan virtue;

Other related topics are: The importance of our Franciscan gatherings; *
The Five Knots of the Franciscan Cord; *The Holy Father’s message to Franciscans

What does the cross teach us?

There was a saying in Francis’s era that all the theology that Christians needed to know was fully taught in the cross.
Think about that for a moment: all we need to know is fully taught in the Passion and crucifixion of Christ. What does the cross teach us?…

…The cross was foundational in Francis’s Christian way of life and remains a fundamental aspect not just of Franciscan spirituality, but of Christianity in general. Our Church teachings, Tradition, and Holy Scriptures have long supported the way of the Cross. The Catechism says, “Taking up one’s cross each day and following Jesus is the surest way of penance… The way of perfection passes by way of the Cross. There is no holiness without renunciation and spiritual battle. Spiritual progress entails the ascesis and mortification that gradually lead to living in the peace and joy of the Beatitudes.” 3 Scripture says, “If a man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” 4

For Francis, the cross was crucial to his understanding of God’s love and redemptive mercy. From the beginning of his conversion, St. Francis had a great devotion and veneration for Christ crucified, and he never ceased to preach this devotion until his death.

Francis’s relationship with the cross began at the little church of San Damiano, where he received a locution. A locution is when a person audibly hears a set of ideas, thoughts, or imaginations from an outside spiritual source. It is a form of private revelation, similar to an apparition; but rather than receiving a vision, a locution is heard. Here is the account from Bonaventure:

For one day when Francis went out to meditate in the fields, he walked near the church of San Damiano which was threatening to collapse because of age. Impelled by the Spirit, he went inside to pray. Prostrate before an image of the Crucified, he was filled with no little consolation as he prayed. While his tear-filled eyes were gazing at the Lord’s cross, he heard with his bodily ears a voice coming from that cross, telling him three times: “Francis, go and repair my house which, as you see, is all being destroyed.” (Bonaventure: Book II: 536-538) 5

At that point, Francis kneeled down and said the following prayer:

Most High glorious God, enlighten the darkness of my heart and give me, Lord, a correct faith, a certain hope, a perfect charity, sense and knowledge, so that I may carry out your holy and true command. Amen. 6

The cross continued to reveal itself as a foundational part of Francis’s spirituality when he received the mission of the Order together with Bernard of Quintavalle, his first follower, at the church of St. Nicholas. Opening the Bible three times at random, the Scriptures were: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to (the) poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me” (Matthew 19:21). “Take nothing for the journey” (Luke 9:3). “If anyone wishes to come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). Francis went with Bernard who immediately gave away everything he owned.

The cross, in the form of a TAU, became like a standard for Francis which he wore on his garments. In front of the bishop and townspeople, Francis stripped himself of his father’s clothes, divesting himself of his last worldly attachments. Then he dressed himself in the penitential tunic in the form of a TAU. He drew a cross with chalk on it to mark himself as a penitent.

Thomas of Celano wrote, “Francis preferred the Tau above all other symbols: he utilized it as his only signature for his letters, and he painted the image of it on the walls of all the places in which he stayed.” In the famous blessing of Brother Leo, Francis sketched a head (of Brother Leo) and then drew the TAU over this portrait. The Antonian Order (founded in 1095) was a penitential order that cared for lepers, and on their habit was painted a TAU. Francis was familiar with them, because they staffed a leper house in Assisi and a hospital in Rome near the church of San Francisco a Ripa. St. Anthony the Abbot of Egypt was (and still is) depicted in icons with the TAU. The TAU originates in the Old Testament: “and the LORD said to him: Pass through the city, through the midst of Jerusalem, and mark an X on the foreheads of those who grieve and lament over all the abominations practiced within it” (Ezekiel 9:4).

In the Fourth Lateran Council of 1215, Pope Innocent III referenced the TAU and quoted this verse in reference to the laxity and corruption in Church and the profaning of the Holy Land by the Saracens. St. Francis, who was at the Council, heard the Pope open the Council on November 11, 1215 with these words: “I have desired with great desire to eat this Passover with you” (Luke 22-15). The Pope continued, “The TAU has exactly the same form as the Cross on which our Lord was crucified on Calvary, and only those will be marked with this sign and will obtain mercy who have mortified their flesh and conformed their life to that of the Crucified Savior.” Pope Innocent III Innocent announced that for him, for the Church, and for every Catholic at the time, the symbol they were to take as the sign of their Passover was the TAU Cross. He ended his homily with “Be champions of the TAU.” Francis did just that.

Francis often wrote of the cross:

And the Lord gave me such faith in churches that I would simply pray and speak in this way: “We adore You, Lord Jesus Christ, in all Your churches throughout the world, and we bless You, for through Your holy cross You have redeemed the world. 7

And the will of the Father was such that His blessed and glorious Son, Whom He gave to us and [Who] was born for us, should, through His own blood, offer Himself as a sacrifice and oblation on the altar of the cross: not for Himself through Whom all things were made, but for our sins, leaving us an example that we might follow His footprints. 8

The rule and life of these brothers is this: to live in obedience, in chastity, and without anything of their own, and to follow the teaching and the footprints of our Lord Jesus Christ, who says: “If you wish to be perfect, go and sell everything you have and give it to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” And, “if anyone wishes to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” Again: “If anyone wishes to come to me and does not hate father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” And: “Everyone who has left father or mother, brothers or sisters, wife or children, house or lands because of me, shall receive a hundredfold and shall possess eternal life.” 9

“and you willed to redeem us captives through His cross and blood and death.” 10

Francis even wrote an in-depth devotion to the cross in his “Office of the Passion” which he wrote for the friars to say from Holy Thursday to the Easter Vigil.

Perhaps Francis’s understanding of the cross is best revealed in a story told in the Little Flowers of St. Francis “On Perfect Joy.”

One winter day Saint Francis was walking to the chapel of Saint Mary of the Angels from Perugia with Brother Leo, and the bitter cold made them suffer keenly. Saint Francis called to Brother Leo and said, “Even if one of our brothers gives sight to the blind, heals the paralyzed, drives out devils, gives hearing back to the deaf and makes the lame walk, write that perfect joy is not in that.” And going on a bit, Saint Francis cried out again in a strong voice, “Brother Leo, if a friar knew all languages and sciences, and if he also knew how to prophesy and to reveal not only the future but also see the secrets of the consciences and minds of others, write down and note carefully, that perfect joy is not in that.” Brother Leo, in great amazement, finally asked, “Father, I beg you in God’s name, what is perfect joy?” And Francis replied, “When we come to Saint Mary of the Angels, soaked by the rain and frozen by the cold, all soiled with mud and suffering from hunger and we ring at the gate and the porter comes and says angrily, ‘Who are you?’ and we say, ‘We are two of your brothers,’ and he contradicts us and says, ‘You are not telling the truth, you are two rascals who deceive people and steal from the poor. Go away!’ Oh, Brother Leo, write, that is perfect joy! And if we endure all his insults and injuries with patience, oh, Brother Leo, write, that is perfect joy! And now hear the conclusion, Brother Leo. Above all the graces and gifts of the Holy Spirit which Christ gives to His friends is that of conquering oneself and willingly enduring sufferings, insults, humiliations, and hardships for the love of Christ. For we cannot glory in all those other marvelous gifts of God, as they are not ours but God’s, as the Apostle says, ‘What have you that you have not received?’ [What do you possess that you have not received? But if you have received it, why are you boasting as if you did not receive it (1 Cor 4:7)]. But we can glory in the cross of tribulations and afflictions, because that is ours, and so the Apostle says: ‘I will not glory save in the Cross of Our Lord Jesus Christ!’ (cfr. Gal 6:14) 11

Francis’s words here echo the words of St. Paul written in his letter to the Corinthians:

Therefore, that I might not become too elated, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, an angel of Satan, to beat me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I begged the Lord about this, that it might leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” I will rather boast most gladly of my weaknesses, in order that the power of Christ may dwell with me. Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong. 12

In these words of both St. Francis and St. Paul, we see a keen devotion to the cross not just as an abstract theological idea, but as a personal way of life. We see in both of them a radical commitment to imitating Christ on the cross by not only embracing their “crosses” but by precisely finding contentment, joy, even glory and strength in them. By finding “power in weakness” and “glorying in tribulations and afflictions,” Francis and Paul received spiritual strength. And this is precisely what sets Christians apart radically.

And when we live our lives dedicated to the cross in such a radical fashion, something changes inside us. For most of us, it is spiritual, emotional, maybe psychological. But for some, it is also physical. In fact, some have concluded that St. Paul received the stigmata on his body due to the words he wrote, “I bear the marks of Jesus on my body” (Gal: 6:16). St. Francis, too, had this experience. The cross that was imprinted internally on his heart some twenty years earlier in San Damiano mysteriously manifested itself externally on his body in the stigmata.
Francis went to the mountain of Laverna in 1224, two years before he died, to fast and pray in honor of the feast of St. Michael the Archangel (Sep. 29). The month of September is replete with images of the cross, including the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross (September 14). On September 17, Francis received the stigmata. The Legend of the Three Companions said:

From that hour [after the locution at San Damiano], therefore, his heart was wounded and it melted when remembering the Lord’s passion. While he lived, he always carried the wounds of the Lord Jesus in his heart. This was brilliantly shown afterwards in the renewal of those wounds that were miraculously impressed on and most clearly revealed in his body. From then on, he inflicted his flesh with such fasting that, whether healthy or sick, the excessively austere man hardly ever or never wanted to indulge his body. Because of this he confessed on his death bed that he had greatly sinned against “Brother Body.” … We have told these things about his crying and abstinence in an incidental way to show that, after that vision and the message of the image of the Crucified, he was always conformed to the passion of Christ until his death. 13

Thomas of Celano said that the cross that was imprinted internally on his soul at San Damiano would manifest itself externally on his body in the stigmata on Mount Laverna. “From that time on, compassion for the Crucified was impressed into his holy soul. And we honestly believe the wounds of the sacred Passion were impressed deep in his heart, though not yet on his flesh.”14

There on Mount Laverna St. Francis prayed for two gifts: to feel in his body the pain which Jesus felt during his Passion and to know in his heart the love which Jesus felt for all humanity. And Francis, mysteriously, received the stigmata – the wounds of Christ – on his hands, feet, and side:

On a certain morning about the feast of the Exaltation of the Cross, while Francis was praying on the mountainside, he saw a Seraph having six wings, fiery as well as brilliant, descend from the grandeur of heaven. And when in swift flight, it had arrived at a spot in the air near the man of God, there appeared between the wings the likeness of a man crucified, with his hands and feet extended in the form of a cross and fastened to a cross…. As the vision was disappearing, it left in his heart a marvelous fire and imprinted in his flesh a likeness of signs no less marvelous. For immediately the marks of nails began to appear in his hands and feet just as he had seen a little before in the figure of the man crucified. 15

Francis was at once overwhelmed with joy, but doubled over with pain. The prayer that Francis made is remarkable. Francis had dedicated his life “carrying the cross” of Christ. The love of God that he discovered through the cross determined everything he did and how he lived his life. He loved Christ on the cross so much that he desired to be with him where he was – there on the cross. That is why he made this twofold prayer — to feel in his body the pain of the cross, but also in his heart the love that Christ had for all people. In fact, there is a connection — a oneness — between sacrifice and charity. The cross, in fact, is the ultimate sacrifice, the ultimate charity of God.

The life of Francis was now inexplicably and mysteriously united to that of Christ. The Incarnation of Christ, the “masterpiece” of God’s creation, indeed, the whole purpose of creation (to use the words of Scotus) culminated in the Passion and crucifixion as the highest expression of God’s love, charity, and mission: “When Jesus had taken the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’ And bowing his head, he handed over the spirit” (John 19:30). The life, love, and mission of Christ were marked by the two great feasts of Christmas and Easter. Similarly, Francis’s life and devotion to Christ was defined by the two great events of the re-enactment of the nativity scene at Greccio (the Incarnation) and the reception of the stigmata at Laverna (the crucifixion).

Ultimately, the wounds of the stigmata were and remain a mystery. Just like the cross of Christ. And as there were some who doubted at the time of Francis, so there remain those today who doubt it, as well. Some have concluded that Francis had contracted leprosy (cf. Chiara Frugoni: “the Life of Francis” and Donald Spoto: “The Reluctant Saint”). Yet, the stigmata remained a mystery also to St. Padre Pio who himself said that he himself did not understand the stigmata.

Finally, it is important to note that as Christians and Franciscans we do not put our hope solely in the cross. The cross was not the ultimate goal that the great saints sought: Heaven and the Resurrection were. The cross is not our final vocation: the Resurrection is. The cross is the mere pathway to the Resurrection. Without the cross there is no Resurrection; unless God comes down in the world, there is no way to go up to Heaven. Thus, in the end, suffering on the cross does not have the final word: the Resurrection does. By embracing the cross, Christ shows us the way. And Francis, by embracing it, is an example of how we should live.

So from these reflections, we have seen what the cross meant to Francis, but what does it mean to us today? As followers of St. Francis, we don’t necessarily seek to emulate them in everything they do; rather, we seek to take inspiration from their lives which we make relevant to us today. So what does the cross do today? I believe that the cross is not just an abstract theological idea taught in seminaries and debated among theologians. Nor is it something embraced only by the great saints like Francis. I believe that, like Francis, the cross can still be worked into our personal spirituality and our daily lives. In effect, we, too, can have a “personal relationship” with the cross.

Many of us often want God to remove our crosses. We pray over and over for him to remove them, but he doesn’t. Many times we become frustrated. However, in this, are we not looking to God as a “worldly messiah” who will give us “health and wealth”? Is this not the same Messiah that many Jews hoped for, one who would unite them, bring peace, free Israel from the pagan Roman Empire, and restore their nation like the military kingdom of David? In Christ’s own lifetime, many turned away from him when they realized that Jesus was not that kind of Messiah. Instead, Christ’s Messiahship was one that foretold of a spiritual kingdom with authority over heaven and earth where love and forgiveness from sins ruled. Just the same, many today give up and turn away from God when he does not deliver them from their ailments. But the wise Christian, truly catechized in the faith, knows that losing himself is the way to true life. Then, our “crosses” are not a sign of God’s disfavor, but they are a sign of his glory. This is the experience not only of St. Francis and St. Paul, but all the other great saints who have gone before. They do not glory in their gifts, but in God’s gifts and their own weaknesses.

All of us – today as well as 800 years ago – can still impute our sins to the cross and, through it, become holy. “Now those who belong to Christ [Jesus] have crucified their flesh with its passions and desires.” (Gal: 5:23) But first, what do we mean by “sin”? The Greek word for sin was “amartia,” which literally means “to miss the mark.” At some level, sin is a disobedient action or inaction that is offensive to God because it goes against his nature, which is good. For example, if God is truth and we tell a lie, we are doing something against what he is. Yet, when many of us hear the word “sin” we become uncomfortable. We may associate sin with vice, dissipation, and moral turpitude. We may think that our sins are not great since we are not thieves, connivers, adulterers, etc. We are good people; we are honest with the people we live and work; we go to Mass regularly; we obey the laws. Or, perhaps somewhere along the line in our lives we received guilt and shame and, perhaps, we spent a lot of time trying to get “good.” So any talk of sin relives that sense of guilt. Yet Scripture tells us, “There is no one just, not one,” (Rom 3:10) and “All have sinned and are deprived of the glory of God” (Rom 3:22). Just the same, none of us are not completely unholy – “totally depraved” as a 16th century Protestant reformer believed 16 since we were created good in the image of God. We have already said that the essence of who we are is good. There is always a little bit of good in the worst of us and a little bit of bad in the best of us.

So what is sin? It implies more than just dissipation and wickedness. In addition to violation of the Commandments or the traditional capital sins of pride, wrath, greed, sloth, lust, envy, and gluttony there are others. These include attitudes that are less than perfect like doubts, fears, resentment, despondencies, impatience, lack of love, shame, guilt, etc.

So, how does this relate to the cross? The Passion of Christ was not just an historical event; it is not just a remote event that happened out of which a theology of atonement was developed. Nor is it merely a “ticket” to heaven through which we are “justified” abstractly or intellectually for our sins. The cross is the bridge between God – who is holy, pure, all good, only good, and sinless – and us who are unholy, impure, and sinful. The cross purifies the soul of all its defects, vices, shame, and sin.

Regardless of whether our sins are great or small, whether they deal with vice or negative attitudes – it is the cross that closes the gap between God’s holiness and our own unholiness. The cross fully absolves us of from all these attitudes. In effect, the cross purifies us and makes us holy and spotless – just like God – whether we are, indeed serious sinners or normal less-than-perfect people.

Though your sins be like scarlet, they may become white as snow; Though they be red like crimson, they may become white as wool. (Is 1:18)

You shall be a glorious crown in the hand of the Lord, a royal diadem held by your God. No more shall men call you ‘Forsaken,’ or your land ‘Desolate,’ but you shall be called ‘my Delight,’ and your land ‘espoused.” For the Lord delights in you, and makes your land his spouse. As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you; And as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you. (Is 62:3)

Reflect for a moment on these Scripture verses. Do you believe what they say? When you look in the mirror, do you see someone “white as snow or wool?” Do you believe that you are God’s “delight, espoused to the Lord?” Or do you believe that God would never want to be with you as you are. I see a lot of people who believe there is something wrong with them inside. That they have to become something else before God will love them – that they have to become something else in order for God to love them. They do not believe that God loves them as they are. From religion, they continually ask God to change them – to make them different. This originates in shame, which is an effect of sin. It does not necessarily mean that the particular person committed a great sin and they are paying the consequences. Yet, shame is a consequence of original sin. The fact is that no one among us will ever be totally pure until we are glorified in Heaven. In the meantime, we have the cross: God allowed his Son to die on the cross for us. In the cross is our connection to God and his holiness and purity. If you don’t believe that you are as “white as snow” and “espoused to the Lord”, I would suggest that you look to the cross.

We can bring everything to the cross that is unholy in us. In order to do this, we need to be attentive to what our sins are. Through our self-examens we discover what our sins are, which we can unite to the cross in prayer: guilt, shame, fears, doubts, anxieties, resentments, negative attitudes and other feelings. Then we impute them to the cross. When we do this, they stick to the cross — almost like metal sticks to a magnet. In this, Jesus on the cross is our sacrificial lamb onto which we cast all our ugliness inside. This ordinarily happens in the sacraments — especially in baptism and reconciliation–, but it also can happen in prayer. In prayer, imagine that the cross is inside of you and that everything negative within you is sticking to it. There it is cast away. All of it. And God is smiling through the entire process. You are “white as snow” and “espoused to the Lord.”

God gave us his laws and truth, but he also gave us our lives, everything we have, creation, and each other. He did this — as he does everything — out of love for us in order to enjoy, praise, and revere him in our free will. Yet God did not stop there. He is so good and loving that he gave us himself on the cross as a sacrifice to take up all our sins. God loves us and gives so much that he takes even our sins. God actually wants us to give our sins to him on the cross so that we will become redeemed, holy, purified, and spotless. The cross is the ultimate example of just how much God loves us, and it shows us how he wants us to be free and pure.

You may feel that you are not worthy to give your sins to God. However, this is precisely what the cross is for. It gives us the opportunity for cleansing and it creates purity within us. You may ask yourself, “How can God, who is infinitely greater, holier, more powerful, and omnipotent give himself for me in this way?” And, you would be right to ask yourself that. Scripture says, “Indeed, only with difficulty does one die for a just person, though perhaps for a good person one might even find courage to die. But God proves his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:7-8). In fact, the Cross reveals “the power of God” (cf. 1 Cor 1:24), which is different from human power; indeed, it reveals his love which is not according to human logic: “For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Cor 1:25).

Once we understand the cross, then we, too, can develop a “personal relationship” with God through it. Then, we come to love Jesus and the cross passionately. When we understand that the cross is the bridge that connects us to heaven and purity, and when we attach our sins to it, then we have closed the gap that separates us from God. Our sinfulness is no longer a barrier to God, but through the cross, we are connected and united to God. Because of the cross, we never have to be good enough, holy enough, pure enough (in fact, we realize that we never can be); instead, we are forgiven and washed clean.

When the cross and Passion become a working part of our spirituality and we have developed a relationship with God through the cross, then we, too, want to glory only in it. We can repeat with St. Paul, “May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Gal: 6:14). Thomas of Celano said of Francis, “Who can express, who can understand how far Francis was from glorying in anything save in the cross of our Lord?” 17 Francis himself said, “But in this we can glory: in our infirmities and bearing daily the holy cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”


3 Cf. Paragraph 1435; 2015, Catechism of the Catholic Church (1997 edition).

4 Matthew 16:24

5 Cf also Thomas of Celano II (Book II: 249-250); Legend of the Three Companions (Book II: 75-78).

6 This prayer is mentioned in several manuscripts. They all indicate that Francis prayed it at the foot of the crucifix of San Damiano.

7 Testament, 5

8 Second Version of the Letter to the Faithful, 11-13

9 rule of 1221, chapter I

10 rule of 1221, chapter XXIII

11 The Little Flowers of St. Francis, Part I, Chap VIII

12 2 Cor 12:7-10

13 Legend Three Companions, Chap V

14 2 Celano 10 (Book II: 249)

15 Bonaventure, Major Life, chap. 13

16 Cf. Calvin, John. “Ephesians Ch 2:1.”. Commentaries to the Epistle of Paul to the Galatians and Ephesians. Translated by Rev. William Pringle.

17 2 Celano: chapter CLIV

18 Admonitions, 5