Readings: Exodus 34: 29-35; Psalm 99; Matt 13:44-46
“The Kingdom of heaven is like a treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.” (Matt 13:44)
I give credit to Fr. James Martin, S.J. for this reflection on St. Francis of Assisi, who “out of joy” sold all he had to buy that field. Let’s use our imagination for this “scene” as we read it in the first person singular, “I”. I was walking past the Temple of Minerva in central Assisi when I saw my friend Francisco standing stark naked in front of the bishop and his family. He was arguing loudly with his father, a wealthy cloth merchant. I’d heard that Francisco had undergone a radical conversion but I hadn’t seen him since he mortified his parents by dressing in rags, begging food and publicly kissing a leper. Another friend filled me in on what happened. Now Francisco’s father had accused him of stealing something from his storehouse to rebuild a church and wanted the bishop to intervene. When the bishop told Francisco to return what he had taken, he tore his clothes off since they too were from his father. I watched the bishop wrap Francisco in his cope, ending the public spectacle. But Francisco became a wandering preacher never to return to his family. Was this the spoiled rich party boy I had grown up with? The young man who had become a knight in armor? Some people thought he was crazy, but legends spread about his love for people, animals, the earth. He attracted followers who joined him to pursue the Kingdom. Eventually the pope allowed Francisco to form a religious order. When he returned to Assisi towards the end of his life, he lived in poverty and prayer. Now our town is building a magnificent church in his honor that he probably would have disdained. Meanwhile my memories of the mature Francisco haunt me. Although he had given up everything, he was so much more joyful than when we were carousing through Assisi.
What can we ordinary people learn from him? I’ll never give up my comfortable life but I’m happiest when I’m sharing my good fortune with others. I’ll leave my possessions behind when I die, so why not start now? I feel Francisco smiling at my seemingly foolish gesture of giving money to a beggar who may waste my gift on cheap wine. I try to be kind to others even when I don’t feel like it. I think Francisco sold his life for a whole field of buried treasure: mine is a small garden plot. But it’s better than nothing. Blessings. Fr. Brian