Richard Rohr explores how Francis of Assisi understood the meaning of words like “sin” and “penance”:
For St. Francis of Assisi, “penance” was not some kind of avoidant asceticism but a proactive, free leap into the problem. It’s the same freedom that we see in Jesus when he says, “You are not taking my life from me; I am laying it down freely” (John 10:18). In the opening words of his Testament, Francis brilliantly says:
The Lord gave me, Brother Francis, thus to begin doing penance in this way: for when I was in sin, it seemed too bitter for me to see lepers. And the Lord himself led me among them and I showed mercy to them. And when I left them, what had seemed bitter to me was turned into sweetness of soul and body. And afterwards I delayed a little and then left the world. [1]
Francis’ phrase, “left the world,” didn’t mean leaving creation. It meant leaving what we might call the “system.” Francis left business as usual, and he began an alternative lifestyle, which at that time was called “a life of penance” or abandoning the system. He decided to focus on alleviating the needs and the suffering of others instead of self-advancement. Most of our decisions are usually based on personal, egoic preference and choice. This is the life that we are called to “leave,” the self that Jesus says must “die” to fall into our Larger Life or True Self. Freedom for both Jesus and Francis was purely and simply freedom from the self, which is precisely freedom for the world. This is so utterly different than our Western notion of freedom. In order to be free for a full and authentic life, we must quite simply be free from our smaller selves.
Francis knew that Jesus was not at all interested in the usual “sin management” task that many clergy seem to think is their job. He saw that Jesus was neither surprised nor upset at what we usually call sin. Jesus was upset at human pain and suffering. What else do all the healing stories mean? They are half of the Gospels! Jesus did not focus on sin. Jesus went where the pain was. Wherever he found human pain, there he went, there he touched, and there he healed.
Francis, who only ever wanted to do one thing—imitate Jesus—did the same. We can’t do that, or even imagine it, unless our first question is something other than “What do I want?” “What do I prefer?” or “What pleases me?” In the great scheme of things, it really doesn’t matter what I want. We are not free at all until we are free from ourselves. It is that simple and that hard.
References:
[1] Francis of Assisi, The Testament (1226), in Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, vol. 1 (New City Press, 1999), 124.
Adapted from Richard Rohr, The Art of Letting Go: Living the Wisdom of St. Francis, (Sounds True, 2010).
Image credit and inspiration: Tom Swinnon, untitled (detail), 2019, photo, Unsplash. Click here to enlarge image. A weathered table, humble in its presence, bears witness to Francis’s kinship with the poor, his simplicity of life, and the quiet prophecy of poverty lived as solidarity.
Story from Our Community:
Sometimes the world presses down on me and the future seems terrifying. When I am overcome with anxiety over things that may never even come to pass, I stop and ask myself “Is everything okay?” And then I answer myself “Yes, it is!” Because in that moment the Holy Spirit is there surrounding me. No past, no future, just the present or rather, the presence of God.
—Janet H.
