The Divine Universe

Saint Francis is one of the most popular saints in the Western world, and possibly one of the least understood. In Australia, he comes second only to Santa Claus (Saint Nicholas). But popular devotion is shallow. Francis’ unofficial adoption as the patron saint of the domestic pet industry and birdbath manufacturers gives only a faint intimation of his status as one of history’s great nature mystics. He possessed a deep spiritual relationship with the natural world. In physical nature he encountered God.

This shaped Francis’ way of life. He lived with passion a life of radical poverty and simplicity. It seems that his espousal to God in nature entailed for him a complete stripping of all that could impair this physical intimacy. It was out of doors, under the sky, with the wind in his face, the sun in his eyes and the turf under his bare feet that Francis knew God’s companionship most intimately. He spoke ardently of his Lady Poverty, emphasising the romantic, not to say erotic drive behind his choice of lifestyle. It was a love affair.

Poverty also gave Francis a sense of great wealth. He was in possession of untold God-given riches that no one could take from him. He even had caretakers and managers in the persons of the local property owners, so he was never burdened with the practical responsibility of all this wealth. His radical renunciation of all possessions and power gave him a sense of freedom far greater than anything known by the wealthy who influenced the affairs of business and government.

Francis wrote, “God gave me brothers,” and this too enriched him greatly. The warmth of his affection for his brothers blazes forth in the few authentic scraps of autograph writing we have and in the later legends about him.

But riches, even heavenly riches, bring their burdens. As the brotherhood grew to thousands, many, if not most, found Francis’ example of passionate and religious devotion and heroic poverty too hard to follow. Ordinary men needed some degree of comfort and security. Buildings were erected and wise heads, both within and outside the order, counselled moderation.

Popes and bishops urged Francis to write a practical rule after the pattern of the Holy Rule of Saint Benedict and those of other established orders, but he was never able to do that. Francis was not an organiser; he was an artist, a poet. He wrote exhortations to follow literally the gospel precepts of poverty – “Take nothing for your journey . . . . “ – but they contained no practical plan of life for a huge and diverse community.

Inevitably confusion resulted. Brothers tended to interpret Francis’ vision in their own way. There were tensions, disputes and, eventually, fragmentation. Francis saw all this beginning to happen in his own short lifetime and it grieved him terribly. His health failed, largely due to the severity of his early penances. It was too late by the time he recognised his mistaken zeal and began to counsel his brothers to care for “Brother Ass” (the body). Some contemporary medical experts suggest Francis may have contracted leprosy through his early care of lepers. He died at the age of forty- two, lying on the bare earth, in the company of a few of his most devoted disciples.

But, though Francis undoubtedly suffered hours of dreadful spiritual darkness, he died serene and full of joy. Joyfulness is one of the most conspicuous qualities evident in the written sources. I think that this, more perhaps than the love-of-animals thing, is really the key to his popularity. Everyone wants to be happy, even more than to be rich. Wealth is seen as a means to happiness, but most often it is a disappointment. Many, especially among the well to do, recognise this. Francis often has a strong appeal for those who struggle frantically to get rich. Many contestants in our competitive society have moments of longing for the happiness and freedom that Francis seems to have found.