Category Archives: grace

St. Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio

26 Monday Jan 2015

Posted by in Christ, community, grace, reconciliation, St. Francis of Assisi, Wolf of Gubbio

≈ Leave a comment

A couple of summers ago I went with a pilgrimage group to Ireland.  One evening, near the end of the pilgrimage, I went out for a walk by myself.  Wandering around the streets of the town, I walked into a small store that seemed to sell a variety of items.  Although the store did not seem to be a religious goods store I immediately noticed a little statue of St. Francis and the wolf of Gubbio.  I bought the statue and it sits on my window sill today. 

The story of the saint and the wolf is that the wolf terrorized the inhabitants of the small Italian town.  Not only did the wolf kill and devour livestock but it began to attack and devour humans.  All attempts to kill the wolf failed and the people of the town would literally shut the town down in fear whenever the wolf would appear.  St. Francis heard of this and decided to go and meet the wolf.  The huge wolf rushed toward Francis as soon as he saw the saint approaching his lair.  St. Francis made the sign of the cross and commanded the wolf in the name of God to stop his terrorizing of the town.  Immediately, the wolf became docile before the saint.  Francis went on to condemn the wolf for his attacks not just on animals but upon men and women who are made in the image of God.  Francis told the wolf that if he ended his attacks he would see to it that the inhabitants of Gubbio would provide him with the food he needed.  The story goes that the wolf placed his paw in Francis’ hand in agreement.  Francis then walked the docile wolf back into the main square of Gubbio to the astonishment of the inhabitants and there reiterated the promise.  Again the wolf placed his paw in the saint’s hand in agreement.  The saint had tamed the wolf. 
Recently, I have been reading Romano Guardini’s book “The Lord”.  I came across the following passage and it has cast a new light on the story of St. Francis and the Wolf of Gubbio.  
It is also said that the sheep heed the Shepherd, because they know his voice. Is it true that men recognize Christ’s call and respond to it? In one sense it must be, for he has said so; yet much in me qualifies the statement. Actually I respond much more readily to the call of ‘the others’; I neither really understand Christ’s summons nor follow it. Therefore, in order that I may hear, he must not only speak, but also open my ears to his voice. Part of me, the profoundest part, listens to it, but superficial, loud contradiction often overpowers it.  The opponents with whom God must struggle in order to win us are not primarily ‘the others,’ but ourselves; we bar his way.  The wolf who puts the hireling to flight is not only outside; he is also within.  We are the arch-enemy of our own salvation, and the Shepherd must fight first of all with us – for us.

Guardini gets at the paradox that is the human condition.  We yearn for God and the profoundest part of who we are listens for God’s voice; yet so easily we let superficial contradiction win the day.  We disregard the very thing we most yearn for.  The first fight that the true Shepherd must undertake is the fight “with us – for us”.  The strongest and most terrifying wolf that puts the hireling to flight is not without, but within!
My hunch is that we all have a wolf within; the question is to what extent is the wolf ravaging and to what extent is it tamed?  The story of the poor man of Assisi offers some thoughts for consideration.  
The town of Gubbio shut down out of fear of the wolf.  A “town” is the moment of encounter, relationship, friendship, creativity, new possibility and life.  When a wolf ravages in our hearts all of these things are shut down and boarded up!  Life becomes dull and stagnant.  Maybe people even fear to approach us?  Maybe we even fear to approach ourselves?   I have heard it said that depression is anger turned within, like a wolf ravaging. 
The wolf did not just devour livestock but even dared to attack and devour humans, made in the image of God.  If left unchecked not only will a ravaging wolf inhibit the growth and possibility of life but will even begin to devour life as well as the dignity of the person – oneself and sadly even others if allowed.  St. Francis strongly condemns the wolf for this sin!
How to tame the wolf?
First off, unlike the others who went out and were defeated, St. Francis went out to tame the wolf, not destroy it.  The wolf is a creature of God, a brother.  If we try to destroy it we will fail.  The wolf within is part of who we are therefore we need to have the trust and courage of St. Francis to even approach its lair and encounter it on its turf not with the intent to destroy but tame.  
John tells us that perfect love casts out all fear.  The first thing Francis did as the snarling wolf approached him was make the sign of the cross.  Francis did not fall back on his own resources but rather called on that perfect love, the grace of God won for us by Christ!  There is a depth to our brokenness that we, alone, can never overcome.  Only God can.  Only by God’s grace can the wolf be tamed.  As Guardini notes; “Therefore, in order that I may hear, he must not only speak, but also open my ears to his voice.”
Francis condemns the wolf for his sin of attacking and devouring humans but then gives mercy.  Elsewhere in his book Guardini points out that true justice and true healing can only be achieved when we strive for that which is beyond mere justice, which is Christian love.  We have to move beyond the sad logic and bitter cycle of violence in our world.  It is mercy that allows us to do so. 
The saint recognized that the wolf was acting out of hunger.  So often we sin not out of pure malice but rather out of our own hunger, need and fear.  Francis knew this and sought to heal the root cause and what is uniquely worth reflecting upon in this story is that the saint does this by bringing the wolf back into relationship with the very ones he had been terrifying!  The saint crafts a pact between the wolf and the inhabitants of Gubbio.  It is the very people of Gubbio and their relationship with the wolf that will allow the wolf to overcome his hunger, need and fear.  Francis does not tame the wolf and then send it off to a distant location.  No, the process of taming continues within the very context of the wolf’s ongoing relationship and life with the townspeople. 
There is much to be learned from the story of St. Francis and the wolf of Gubbio as well as Romano Guardini’s recognition that the fiercest wolf is often the one within.  Much to be learned for our own lives, for recognizing what is at work in the lives and actions of others and even regarding what is at work, writ large, in our world today. 
St. Francis, tamer of wolves, pray for us! 

Thoughts on the Sunday readings: "Who do you say that I am?" (Twenty-First Sunday – A)

23 Saturday Aug 2014

Posted by in Christ, grace, Kingdom of God, power to bind and loose, sin, St. Peter

≈ Leave a comment

The Gospel passage we have heard (Mt. 16:13-20) is known as “the text regarding the primacy of Peter.” Yet, it is a Gospel passage that goes well beyond the theological debates of Peter’s primacy and questions the faith of each one of us. 

There are a number of lessons to be learned from today’s gospel.  As we reflect on this passage it is helpful to recognize the context in which it occurs.  After feeding the multitude and curing many people our Lord finds himself practically alone.  The crowd seems to be present when there is the possibility of healing from illness and when there is food to be had but then the crowd dwindles.  In a sense, our Lord, in this passage is left almost defeated.  After having so many people around and trying to make them into the People of God, he is now left alone – only with his small group of disciples.  Here is an important point to remember – the ways of God are not our ways.  God will not force his Kingdom.  Christ will usher in the Kingdom of God not through our world’s understanding of power, success and accomplishment but according to God’s terms nor will Christ usher in the Kingdom by seeking to cater to our every whim or entertain us with the latest fade.  Christ will always be authentic to himself, the Kingdom and the will of the Father. 

So, after the crowds have dwindled away, our Lord turns to this small and less-than-perfect grouping of disciples and asks, “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?”  Then, he looks directly to them and asks, “Who do you say that I am?”  Our Lord is seeking to move this small band of followers beyond the limits of the world’s thought (in this case, the awaited messiah as a military leader and conqueror) into the truth of the Kingdom of God.  Will they be able to follow a crucified Messiah?  If they are to be his disciples they must begin to grasp the ways and the movements of God’s Kingdom.  

Peter, speaking for the community of disciples, responds, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah.  For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father.”  There is an important spiritual lesson here – Peter was not perfect when he made this proclamation of truth.  In fact, in the very next chapter Peter rebukes our Lord and is himself reprimanded.  “Get behind me Satan!  You are thinking not as God does but as human beings do!”  The lesson is this: in the life of faith it is more important to cling to Jesus rather than to seek to make ourselves perfect in the hopes of winning his acknowledgement and love or (another temptation) to present ourselves as perfect in the eyes of others.  (Christians who pretend to be perfect are like church buildings that have no windows; there might be a nice façade outside but within there is no light, no grace.)  We forget this all the time.  We want to have everything “perfect” – nice and neat – before we invite Jesus in.  Jesus does not expect everything to be perfect.  He just wants to be invited in!  Just let him in and then, by his presence, all will begin to be healed!

When we allow Jesus in, when, in our heart, we are able to proclaim, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God…,” we gain the true power of the keys of the Kingdom – the power to “loose” and to “bind”.  With Christ present, we gain the ability to loosen the bonds that hold us tight to our selfishness, our own love of self, our hurts, our petty indifferences and grudges.  These are the bonds that make us violent and like a slave.  When we let Christ in we learn to bind ourselves to that which gives true life – friendship, solidarity, integrity and service.  We bind ourselves to the ways of the Kingdom. 

In and through Christ, whatever we bind on earth will be bound in heaven.  Whatever we loose on earth will be loosed in heaven

“Who do you say that I am?” is not some intellectual exercise that our Lord throws out there to test us.  Rather, it is an invitation which our Lord extends to each one of us.  It is an invitation to welcome Christ ever anew into our lives and into our hearts, that we might know life and become life for others. 

In Praise of the Imperfect: Lessons Learned from a Christmas Tree

04 Wednesday Dec 2013

Posted by in beauty, Christmas, God's love, goodness, grace, imperfection, Messiah, truth

≈ Leave a comment

I am from a family of four boys.  Usually around this time of year when we were growing up two of us would be given the task of getting the family Christmas tree down from the attic.  For us this was no small feat.  The tree was set in a large and heavy cardboard box.  Our main technique in regards to this task was shuffling the box to the top of the stairs, putting the front edge over the top step, lifting up the back of the box and then just letting it go!  The box would noisily slide down and come to a solid thump against the wall at the bottom of the stairway.  We would then wedge it out the doorway and into the hall.  This annual rite of retrieval gives an adequate portrayal of how this poor tree was treated over the years!  

It was the only tree I remember from my earliest Christmas’s and it remained a holiday fixture in my family’s home up until my first couple of years in college.  The tree consisted of a metal base, a three-piece wooden “trunk” with slots for the branches which varied in length.  The branches were made of a twisted metal with artificial, plastic needles comprising the greenery.  
It was never that beautiful of an artificial tree to begin with and over the years it became even less so.  One year a bird flew into the house immediately followed by our barking dog.  The bird landed in the tree; again, immediately followed by our barking dog!  This brought the tree down to a crashing thud, scattering ornaments everywhere!  The tree always had a bend to it after that year.  The ravages of Christmas wore on the tree.  After so many years there were just massive and solid wads of silver tinsel that could not be removed nor hidden.  Some branches gained bare spots as the plastic needles melted away after coming too close to the hot and large multi-colored Christmas lights.  At some point a couple of branches were lost.  (How do you misplace branches of a Christmas tree?)  It also did not seemingly help the cause that our parents made my brothers and I place tacky and not very attractive ornaments – made by ourselves as young children – on the tree each year.  All this being said; it was a wonder that we were able to assemble anything that even remotely resembled a Christmas tree each year.  
Yet we did and not only that, each year it somehow became quite beautiful.  After everything had been thrown on the tree – the new layer of tinsel, the ornaments, the lights, colored garlands – we would turn off the lights and stand back and gaze in wonder at the beauty of our tree!  When we were young, my brothers and I would lie under this very imperfect tree, with our heads touching the base and look up and it was beautiful – the lights, the ornaments, the branches…  It was like looking into a different world!  
Now that I am older I have come to realize something that my parents understood as they insisted that we not toss out the tree in favor of a “newer” and “more improved model”.  Our tree was made beautiful not in spite of its imperfections but because of its imperfections.  Somehow the tacky ornaments, the burnt branches, and the gobs of tinsel came together to make something quite beautiful and even magical each Christmas. 
This is a part of the great mystery; beauty and truth and goodness are found not in spite of our imperfections nor apart from them but in the very midst of our imperfections and even because of our imperfections.  This is an aspect of the mystery we await each Advent.  In the coming of Christ we realize that God does not abandon the imperfect.  We can often think that the contrary is the case.  Only when we are perfect will we then win affection and care!  Only when we are perfect will we achieve fulfillment!  The message so often told us, “Be perfect, or at least pretend to be, and abandon the imperfect!”  Yet, what a cold, lonely and ugly world that creates!
God does not abandon the imperfect and because of this Christians cannot abandon the imperfect and this includes even our very selves.  We are imperfect and God loves us.  God loves us and yet (at least in this world) we remain imperfect.  “My grace is made manifest in weakness,” says the Lord.  In other words, “God’s beauty shines forth!”
There is a freedom and a joy found here that the world just cannot match and also that the cultured despisers of Christianity fear (although they are loath to acknowledge it).  When we deny the Messiah and the need for one then we all must become messiahs unto ourselves.  We must be perfect!  What an unbearable weight to carry!      
When I acknowledge the Messiah, when I await his coming and realize my need then I realize that the job of “messiah” has already been filled.  I do not have to carry that weight!  I do not have to pretend to be perfect!  I can learn to be comfortable in my own skin and in who I am!  I can gain an authenticity that the world cannot afford because it is an authenticity rooted in the very fact that I am imperfect and yet I am beloved of the Father!   
As a priest of eighteen years now I am beginning to understand a little of the subversive nature of the sacrament of reconciliation.  In a time that cries out, “Be perfect!  Abandon, reject and distance yourself from the imperfect!” the Church quietly in reconciliation chapels and confessionals around the world provides a space (maybe for some the only space) where we can honestly acknowledge that we are not perfect, that we make mistakes – sometimes quite painful ones – and that we are loved by God even in our imperfections.  One fruit of true reconciliation is an authenticity that the world just cannot give.   
God does not abandon the imperfect and because of this; goodness, truth and beauty can be found not in spite of our imperfections but even in their very midst.            

Zacchaeus and Jesse James – Thirty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

03 Sunday Nov 2013

Posted by in grace, sin, Zaccheus

≈ Leave a comment

Often, when we think of movies with a faith theme we tend to envision movies that portray the glory or triumphant struggle of faith but there are also movies that explore the other side – the reality of sin and its consequences.

 “The Assassination of Jesse James by the coward Robert Ford” is one such film I believe.  It is not necessarily an “easy” movie to watch precisely for this reason.  It is a film that explores the psychological and spiritual landscape of sin and its effects.  Within the movie there are many amazing scenes of fall and winter landscapes which visually portray the stark inner landscapes of the film’s characters … landscapes that have been deadened and made barren by violence and sin.
Jesse James, played by Brad Pitt, is not romanticized in this movie.  He is presented as a fully complex character – extremely violent, a killer, yet human and full of paranoia near the end of his life.  Robert Ford (played by Casey Affleck) – the man who would assassinate James – is also presented in the complexity of his humanity.  He does not come off as a hero nor is he meant to.  Both characters are men fully caught up in the twisting and disfiguring reality of sin and violence.

There is a telling scene near the end of the movie where James and Ford are sitting together in a room of James’ home in St. Joseph, Missouri.  The house is quiet and James is staring out the window.  He says, “I go on journeys outside my body and look at my red hands and angry face and I wonder where I have gone wrong.  I’ve been becoming a problem to myself.”  Ford is in a stunned silence.  He does not have a response to this admission of James.  He departs the room and James continues to stare out the window.

It is, I believe, a poignant portrayal of the affect of sin in ones life.  In sin, we become problems to ourselves.  Problems that we, on our own, can neither solve nor riddle our way through.  We are too twisted, too ineffectual and too lost.  We stand in the need of grace.

The first reading for this coming Sunday is taken from the Book of Wisdom.  The first verse of the reading says this, “Before the Lord the whole universe is as a grain from a balance or a drop of morning dew come down upon the earth.” (Wisdom 11:22)  In the Gospel reading we are given the story of Zacchaeus the tax collector (Luke 19:1-10).  In the story we are told that Jesus is passing through Jericho and Zacchaeus – a short man – has climbed a tree in order to see the controversial rabbi.  When Jesus comes to the place where Zacchaeus is, he looks directly up at the man and says, “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”  

When I hold these two verses together I find myself envisioning a common cinematic technique – the movement from a grand scene of the universe step by step to a particular place and moment in our world.  The full universe to our galaxy to our solar system past the moon to earth through the clouds to the Middle East to the Holy Land to Jericho to the street to our Lord looking up at this short man in a tree.  From the Lord who views all creation as a grain of sand to Zacchaeus in the tree – it is the movement of grace.  “Zacchaeus, come down quickly, for today I must stay at your house.”

As soon as our Lord says this, we are told that the other people began to grumble.  Zacchaeus is a tax collector, he is a man caught up in the barren landscape of sin and violence and the others know this.  He is a sinner, let us not kid ourselves, we must neither romanticize this man before the advent of grace in his life nor reduce him to a funny little children’s cartoon character.  We must see him for who he is, acknowledge the violence of the system he represents and recognize the very real need in which he, himself, stands.  (Maybe an equivalent to our day which might bring all this out for us it to imagine our Lord deciding to go and dine at the house of Bernie Madoff.)   

But something new has now happened!  Zacchaeus has been a problem to himself, a problem in which he has been trapped and lost, but now, in this moment of encounter with Christ, he does something different.  We are told that Zacchaeus stands there in the very midst of the grumbling and he proclaims to the Lord, “Behold, half of my possessions, Lord, I shall give to the poor, and if I have extorted anything from anyone I shall repay it four times over.”  In the encounter with Christ a new way is found!  The starkness of sin, violence and separation is broken through!  The problem that we become to ourselves through sin is broken through!

“And Jesus said to him, ‘Today salvation has come to this house because this man too is a descendant of Abraham.  For the Son of Man has come to seek and to save what was lost.”  In sin, humanity turns in on itself; we become problems to ourselves – a problem that we, on our own, have no hope of solving.  There is a depth to our brokenness that only God can answer.  It is in the gift of grace, the encounter with Christ, that a new way is found … for each and every one of us.

Peter accepts love: Third Sunday of Easter (C)

13 Saturday Apr 2013

Posted by in Easter, grace, love, Peter, resurrection, sin

≈ Leave a comment

“The Disciples Peter and John Running to the Sepulchre on the Morning of the Resurrection” by Eugene Burnand

Recently I was asked to list some good books written by Catholic authors.  The names that immediately came to my mind were Georges Bernanos, Flannery O’Connor, Shusaku Endo and Graham Greene.  Each of these authors wrote fiction and each one in his or her own way courageously delved into the psychology of sin, grace and faith.  These authors did not seek to present faith in simplistic black and white categories and neither did they need to explain away the struggles and doubts of life.  Rather, each author was able to present the reality of grace found within the very struggles, doubts and even times of darkness that can comprise moments in life that we all experience. 

In many ways, their writings mirror the very gospel passage that we are given this third Sunday of Easter (Jn. 21:1-19).  In this resurrection appearance we are told that Peter and six other disciples went fishing on a boat in the Sea of Tiberias.  Seven disciples in a boat – a concise symbol of the Church.  It was night.  Christ has not yet appeared to them.  They were relying on their own self-sufficiency and their own ability to catch the fish but (we are told), they caught nothing.  When we rely solely on ourselves then we remain in the darkness of night and we catch nothing, the work is futile. 

When it was already dawn … Jesus was seen standing on the shore, yet not recognized.  Whenever Christ comes to us the darkness already begins to flee.  It is helpful to note that Christ does not need to consult our calendars.  Christ comes to us when he so chooses and it is in that moment that the dawn begins to break. 

Probably with a bit of a smile and fully aware of his disciples’ exercise in futility the risen Lord slyly asks, Children … have you caught anything to eat?  No, they admit and then upon his instruction they cast their nets again and make a great haul of fish. 

John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, is the first to realize it is the Lord.  John was the one who leaned his head on the breast of the Lord at the last supper, John was the one who stood by the cross of the Lord and did not run away.  John is the one whose heart is attuned and attentive to the beating heart of the risen Lord.  Yet, John did not hide within his realization, only to enjoy it for himself, rather he turned in respect to Peter – the “rock”, the one on whom the Lord said he would build his Church – and said, It is the Lord.

Peter, continually surprising – ancient, yet always surprising – in his eagerness and love for the Lord jumps out of the boat and into the water and swims to shore!  The Lord feeds his friends and then he has this wonderful exchange with Peter.  Three times, the Lord asks Peter; do you love me?  Three times Peter responds “yes” and the Lord instructs him to feed and tend his sheep. 

Why did the Lord give this command and why specifically did he entrust Peter with this task?  Peter had denied the Lord, Peter had run away and now the Lord is entrusting his very flock to this man?  What had changed?  What had changed is that now Peter had accepted love.  Where before he had relied on his own strength of faith – Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death. (Lk. 22:33) – now Peter, after his denial, can only hold on to the love of the Lord.  Peter’s heart, healed by the light of Easter, had come to truly understand and grasp the words of that beautiful Lenten hymn; What wondrous love is this?  Peter had accepted the love of the risen Lord and now Christ says to him; feed my sheep. 

The Gospel does not need to explain away the weakness of the human heart nor the struggles and doubts of life.  Rather, the Gospel proclaims the amazing truth that grace has entered into our very human and limited and sinful reality.  The Lord is risen!  He does not deny our humanity, rather he fulfills it through love and friendship!