EXCERTS FROM OTHER WORKS By St. Bonaventure

EXCERTS FROM OTHER WORKS

By St. Bonaventure

 

INTRODUCTION

 

The information on St. Francis which St. Bonaventure gathered to write a long and a short life served him in good stead also in his other writings, especially in the five sermons on St. Francis which are counted among his authentic works. Of the many references to the Seraphic Saint that are found in the nine big volumes of the Seraphic Doctor’s Opera Omnia, we have selected eleven excerpts from the sermons and seventeen others which relate or refer to events in the life of St. Francis.

Some of these are even more striking and informative than the corresponding parts of the biographies. St. Bonaventure makes it clear that he is not just telling pious stories but narrating real happenings for which he had reliable testimonies. “His Holiness Pope Alexander told me …. The man who told me the story saw the whole thing with his own eyes. … a friar who stayed with St. Francis tells the story….”

Especially noteworthy are St. Bonaventure’s detailed account, description, and proofs of the stigmata of St. Francis. “Many lay folk saw the wounds with their own eyes…. Over a hundred clerics bore witness… under oath … that they had seen the stigmata with their own eyes and had touched them with their hands.” And he recalls his own visit to Mt. La Verna thirty-three years after the death of St. Francis (i.e. in 1259), “the very mountain where I meditated on what I am writing … and one of his companions who was there at the time me this himself (i.e., about the stigmata) and many others also.”

The twenty-eight excerpts which follow, in our opinion deserve a place among the sources for the life of St. Francis. They were translated from the Latin into English by Fr. Benen Fahy O.F.M.

-M.A.H.

 

 

EXCERPTS

 

1 God calls job his servant because of his humility…. Seven sons he had and three daughters (Jb 1, 2). The name job means “sufferer” and he is a good figure of St. Francis, because his life was full of suffering. St. Francis never ceased weeping, either for his own sins or those of others. And if we look at the first generation of friars, we see that he too had seven sons, and that he himself was the eighth. Then at God’s command he divided them into groups and sent them two by two to the four corners of the earth. Eventually god brought them all together again, at his prayer.

St. Francis also had three daughters. At The beginning of his religious life he repaired three churches, one in honor of Sts. Cosmas and Damian, one in honor of St. Peter, and a third in honor of our Lady. It was in the third church that God revealed to him the kind of life he was to lead.

Moreover, he founded three orders. The first was the Order of Friars Minor, and the second the Order of the Sisters of St. Clare (at first they were known as the Poor Ladies of Sts. Cosmas and Damian, but now that St. Clare has been canonized, they are called the Sisters of St. Clare). He also founded a Third Order, which is called the Order of Penitents or the Brothers of Penance. St. Francis founded these three institutions and they were like three daughters to him. They exist only for the service of God. And so St. Francis was a humble servant, like job, and gave due honor to God (Sermon II on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 576).

 

2 St. Francis was like unalloyed gold, purified in the furnace of poverty… a friar who stayed at Montepulciano near Siena with St. Francis tells the story that one day they had nothing to eat except some dry bread, and they ate it in the open space in front of the church where there was a fountain. Then they went into the church and St. Francis was overcome with joy. He stayed there for a full hour and the friar was tired. Afterwards he asked the saint how he was feeling, and Francis replied that from the beginning of his religious life he had never felt such pleasure. God is pleased with poverty, the poverty that is accompanied by frugality, purity, humility, simplicity, kindness. Then Francis made a pilgrimage to St. Peter’s in Rome, asking the Prince of the Apostles to be his patron, and he never betrayed the pledge he had made to poverty (Sermon II on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 579).

 

3 By his zeal for the Faith, St. Francis became God’s chosen instrument. He went all over the world to spread the Faith. Three times he tried to go overseas, but was prevented by shipwreck. He went to sultan in Spain, and to Morocco, where some of our friars afterwards died as martyrs. The third time he reached the sultan and proclaimed the Christian Faith, hoping that he would be torn limb from limb for it. But the sultan said; “We will call our philosophers and discuss our faith and yours.” To this the saint replied, “Our faith is greater than human reason. Reason is of no use unless a person believes. I cannot argue from Sacred Scripture either, because they do not believe in it. Instead, make a big fire with wood, and I will go into it with your philosophers. When we see who is burned, we shall know whose religion is wrong.” There and then the sultan’s philosophers slipped away without waiting, and the sultan smiled saying: “I do not think I could find anyone to go into the fire with you.” “Then I will go in on my own,” said St. Francis. “If I am burned, it is because of my sins. If not, then you should welcome our Christian Faith.” But the ruler replied, “I could never do that. My people would stone me. But I believe that your Faith is good and that your religion is the true religion.” From that moment faith in Christ was infused into his heart (Sermon II on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 579).

 

4 St. Francis had great devotion to the Incarnation and the Cross of Christ. In his love for our Lord and in his life, he was changed into Christ crucified, as the Seraph with six wings appeared to him. He had huge nails in his hands and feet, and they were bent double where they stuck out from the soles of his feet; there was also a wound in his side. He could say with all truth, in the words of the bride, “You have wounded me.” He was dark-skinned by nature and because of his rigid penance; but his skin appeared gleaming white and red at his death, and he asked to be left lying naked for as long as it takes to walk a mile. With St. Paul he could say, “With Christ I hang upon the Cross. God forbid that I should make a display of anything except the forbid that I should make a display of anything except the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal 2, 19; 6, 14) (Sermon II on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 580).

 

5 Brother Pacificus had a vision in which he saw St. Francis marked with the sign of the Cross in the form of two gleaming swords, one of which reached from his head to his feet and the other from hand to hand across his chest.

It was also because of his zeal that he (Francis) was rapt in ecstasy the time that he went to preach in the cathedral. The friars had remained in the hut where they were living and he was about a mile away from them – which would be a mile and a half the way they calculate distance there – and he appeared to them in a fiery chariot. Their hearts were bathed in its radiance, so that they could see one another’s consciences. He was taken away like Elias and found favor with God, so that he pleased God by his zeal for holiness. No one seems to worry nowadays about the harm which the Devil is doing, but St. Francis used to shed tears every day for his own sins and those of others (Sermon II on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 581).

 

6 When St. Francis was due to preach before Pope Honorius, he had his sermon all prepared on the advice of Pope Gregory; but when he began to speak, he could not remember a word. Then he told them, “Someone wrote a sermon for me (that is, Pope Gregory IX), and it was a profound sermon which I was to preach to you. But now I have forgotten all of it. If you will wait a little while, I shall pray to God and he will give me something to say.” Then he gave himself to prayer, and he preached a marvelous sermon. More learning had he than his elders (cf. Ps 118, 100). He was a great saint. Creation in all its complexity as well as the divine simplicity of the uncreated was an open book to him. His spiritual powers enjoyed perfect freedom, and there was no darkness in him. He penetrated hidden secrets, and he appeared to those who were far away. He enjoyed God’s illuminating spirit to the full. If we too have a mind to share the light of wisdom, we must avoid being occupied with material things (Sermon III on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 581-582).

 

7 St. Francis resembled the Father’s power of creation by the numerous miracles which he worked. He cleansed lepers, raised the dead, and healed the sick; he restored speech to the dumb. He also enjoyed the power of command; not only were other human beings subject to him; he also had command over the fishes in the sea and all that flies through the air and the cattle (Gn 1, 26).

For example, we read that as he was traveling between two towns on one occasion he passed through a woods there the deer took to flight as he approached with his companion. But he called after one of them and told it, “Stop! Why are you running away?” The deer stood still immediately at his command, and he approached it and put his hands on its shoulders. “Go, now,” he told it, “and give praise to God.”

The birds of the air were subject to him in the same way. We are told that he came upon a huge flock of birds singing in a field on time, as he was on a journey. They were making a lot of noise with their singing, but he told them to be quiet and immediately they were silent. Afterwards he commanded them to sing once more, and they started off again (Sermon III on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 583).

 

8 St. Francis had knowledge of what was hidden; he knew many secrets and could foretell the future. His Holiness Pope Alexander told me that St. Francis foretold the death of Pope Honorius and the election of Gregory IX, who was then Cardinal Bishop of Ostia. He also prophesied that an earthquake would take place on a certain day and hour, and it happened just as he had foretold (Sermon III on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 583).

 

9 St. Francis practiced true humility and it was love of humility that made him call his Order the Order of Friars Minor, which means exactly what it says. He was the least of all, or at least he believed that he was the least of all. The first provincial minister he appointed, whose name was Pacificus, was a companion of his; and one day he had a dream in which he seemed to be carried away into paradise. There he saw a great number of thrones, all of them occupied, and one higher than all the others which was vacant. He asked to whom this belonged, and he was told that it belonged to St. Francis.

As a result of his dream, Pacificus asked the saint one day what he thought of himself. “I think that I am the greatest sinner in the world,” the saint replied, “That is the way I feel and I have no doubt about it.” “How can you say that?” asked Pacificus. “Look at all the thieves there are in the world, all the fornicators and murderers.” St. Francis replied, “There is no one in the whole world who would not be more grateful than I, if God had given him as many extraordinary gifts as he has given me. That is why I think I am the greatest sinner in the world” (Sermon IV on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 588).

 

10 Some people are surprised that a Seraph should have been sent to St. Francis, when he was about to receive the stigmata of Christ’s passion. They ask, “Was a Seraph crucified?” Certainly not. A Seraph is a spirit who is so called because of his fervent love, and the fact that a Seraph was sent to St. Francis means that he was on fire with the ardor of love. That is what the appearance of the spirit meant; the marks of the Cross which were imprinted on his body were a sign of the love which he felt for Christ crucified. He was a sign of the love which he felt for Christ crucified. He was completely transformed into Christ by the fervor of his love for him.

In proof of the stigmata we have the miracle which took place in a certain district where all the livestock fell sick. They ceased to take their food and died in a short time. No one knew what to do to save them; and one of the local people went to a holy man for advice, telling him how his stock was dying off. This holy person told him to get the water in which St. Francis had washed his hands and feet and sprinkle it over the animals and they would be cured. He did so and the animals immediately went back to their food. The man who told me the story saw the whole thing with his own eyes. St. Francis, therefore, resembled heaven by reason of his all-embracing love; but the Cross is the sign of perfect love, and so it had to be seen in him (Sermon IV on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 589).

 

11 God miraculously imprinted the sacred stigmata on his (Francis’) body, as we can see from the number of witnesses, from their authority, and from their holiness. The number of trustworthy lay folk who saw the wounds with their own eyes and over a hundred clerics bore witness to them. If any matter can be certified by the voice of two or three witnesses (Mt 18, 16), as we read in the Gospel, surely a hundred witnesses is more than enough.

However, the authority of the witnesses makes the miracle absolutely certain. It has been confirmed and authenticated by the Roman Curia which has supreme authority on this earth; and those who preach against the stigmata are excluded from the communion of the faithful by the same authority because they reject the truth.

Finally, the eminent sanctity of the witnesses banishes all doubt. St. Francis’ companions were men of great holiness; their virtuous lives and their holiness were clear to all. And they were not content merely to affirm the truth of the stigmata in an off-hand way, but they swore to it under oath, declaring that they had seen the wounds with their own eyes and touched them with their hands…

These marks were most unusual. They were quite contrary to all the laws of nature, and they far exceeded anything a human agent could do. They were unusual: it has never been heard that these precious jewels were seen in anyone else. They were contrary to the laws of nature, because Francis’ side was pierced, so that it bled; and yet he never wore a bandage, although he worked hard and continuously for a long time afterwards. They were beyond the power of a human agent: it was not just that his hands were wounded or pierced through – that could have been done with a piece of wood or iron – the nails actually grew out of his flesh, with the head on one side and the point bent back on the other. They jutted out from the flesh and were separated from it in his hands and feet. It was so extraordinary that no Christian could have any doubt that these marks had been given to him by a wonderful miracle (Sermon V on St. Francis, Opera Omnia, IX, 593).

 

12 Last of all, St. Francis speaks of the obedience in which his whole Order is to be subject to the head of the ecclesiastical hierarchy, when he says, “Brother Francis promises obedience to His Holiness Pope Honorius …” (Rule of 1223, c. 1). The name Francis was only given to the saint on second though; at his baptism, his mother gave him the name John (Expositio super Regulam Fratrum Minorum, c. I, n. 11., Opera Omnia, VIII, 396).

 

13 We also have the example of St. Francis to show that living on alms from day to day is quite in harmony with Christian perfection. St. Francis went begging and exhorted his friars to beg and, in addition, he proved the value of begging by the miracles which he performed. We see this in the case of the ship’s crew whom he fed with what was left of the alms which had been given him, and whom he afterwards saved from all danger. Moreover, he got the pope to confirm his rule in which he says, “The friars are to serve God in poverty and humility, and beg alms trustingly” (Rule of 1223, c. 6) (De perfectione evangelica, quaest. 2, a. 2, fund. 23,Opera Omnia, V, 139a-139b).

 

14 Our Lord Jesus Christ brought us the good news of that peace which surpasses all our thinking (Phil 4, 7), and St. Francis only repeated his message. He spoke of peace at the beginning and end of all his sermons, and peace  was the greeting which he had for everyone. In his prayer he aimed at ecstatic peace, like a citizen of the heavenly Jerusalem of which the Psalmist says, “Among the enemies of peace, for peace I labor; pray for all who bring Jerusalem peace” (Ps 119, 7; 121, 6). Francis knew that Solomon’s throne of heavenly wisdom could be attained only in peace; there, in the city of peace, he makes his abode, dwells in Sion (Ps 75, 3).

For all my sins, I too thirsted for this heavenly peace with an aching heart, like St. Francis, I who am the seventh to succeed him as minister general of the Order, although I am unworthy in every way. About the time of his feastday, thirty-three years after his death, I went to mount La Verna, by God’s providence, in search of peace of soul. While I was there, I devoted myself to contemplating subjects which would raise my heart to God, and I thought of the miracle which had happened to St. Francis in that very spot, the vision he had of a Seraph with six wings which looked like Christ crucified. The moment it came into my mind. I realized that this vision showed how St. Francis was lost in ecstasy in his prayer, and how a person can arrive at this.

The six wings can be taken to mean the six degrees of enlightenment by which the soul is prepared, step by step, stage by stage, until it arrives at peace, through the ecstatic rapture of Christian contemplation. However, there is only one way to achieve this, burning love of Christ crucified. This love carried St. Paul up into the third heaven (2Cor 12, 1) and made him so like Christ that he could say, “With Christ I hang upon the cross, and yet I am alive; or rather, not I; it is Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2, 19 seq,). It completely absorbed the heart of St. Francis, so that it became visible in his flesh and he bore the stigmata of Christ’s passion in his body for two years before he died (Itinerarium, prol. 1-3, Opera Omnia, V 295ab).

 

15 Remember St. Francis’ sermons before the sultan! The sultan suggested that the saint should hold a disputation with his priests, but Francis replied that the Christian Faith could never be discussed from a purely rationalistic standpoint, because it transcends reason, and it was no use discussing it on the basis of Sacred Scripture, because his opponents did not accept it. Then he asked the sultan to have a fire lit and offered to go into it with his priests. We can see from this that we should be careful not to mix so much of the water of philosophy with the wine of theology that we are left with water instead of wine. That would certainly be a perverted miracle; we read that Christ changed water into wine, not vice versa (Collationes in Hexaemeron, c. 19, n. 14, Opera Omnia, V, 422b).

 

16 “Humility,” says St. Bernard, “is the virtue which enables a man to know himself perfectly, so that he becomes worthless in his own eyes” (De gradibus hum., c. 1, n. 2, PL 182, 943). St Francis had humility like this, with the result that he thought he was a worthless sinner. This was his heart’s true love, his heart’s true quest (Wis 8, 2) from the beginning of his religious life until his death; it was for this that he left the world, and had himself led through the town stripped of his habit. It was for this that he served the lepers, and confessed his faults publicly in his sermons, commanding one of his companions to shower him with insults (De perfectione ad sorores, c. 2, n. 1, Opera Omnia, VIII, 110a).

 

17 Like Christ, we should never give ourselves up to rejoicing to such an extent as to forget fear. St. Francis gives us the same example; when he was showered with marks of respect, he told his companion that they earned no merit in such company. It was when they were insulted that they made their greatest gains (Hexaemeron, c. 18, n. 11, Opera Omnia, V, 416a).

 

18 In order to encourage them to practice poverty in the use of clothing, our Lord told his disciples, “You are not to have more than one coat apiece” (Lk 9,3). In this the teaching of the Master was in harmony with that of his Precursor, who told the crowds, “The man who has two coats must share with the man who has none” (Lk 3, 11). Interpreted in a spiritual sense, these words of our Lord condemn all forms of pretense and hypocrisy. In other words, his disciples were not to appear one way in private and another in public; they were not to be like the people he condemned in the words, “They come to you in sheep’s clothing, but are ravenous wolves within” (Mt 7, 15). St. Francis was always careful to avoid this pitfall; when he was sick, he refused to allow a piece of fur to be sewn on the inside of his habit until a similar piece was sewn on the outside (Comment in Evang. Lucae, c. 9, n. 7, Opera Omnia, VII 218-219).

 

19 Our Lord showed his disciples that they should live poorly, telling them, “Take nothing with you to use on your journey” (Lk. 9, 3). In other words, they were to have no temporal means of support; by their example they were to proclaim the truth of St. Paul’s words, “Empty handed we came into the world, and empty-handed, beyond question, we must leave it” (1 Tm 6, 7). To make this perfectly clear, our Lord descended to details and said, “No staff, for support, or wallet to keep anything, or bread to eat, or money to buy provisions.” He excluded any human means of support, to show that those who preach the Gospel should rely on God alone in their great trust in him, according to the words of St. Peter, “Throw back on God the burden of all your anxiety; he is concerned for you” (1 Pt 5, 7). And so, when St. Francis sent the friars out to preach, he used to say to them in the words of the Psalm, “Cast the burden of your cares upon the Lord” (Ps 54, 23). However, this does not mean that our Lord forbids prudent provision for the future; he merely forbids us to worry or be anxious, as he says himself, “Do not fret over tomorrow; for today, today’s troubles are enough” (Mt 6, 34) (Comment. In Evan. Lucae, c. 9, n. 5, Opera Omnia, VII, 218a).

 

20 Our author tells us that he was speaking to Brother Giles one time and he remarked that we were not prudent traders, like St. Francis. We waste everything we have, whereas we should be prepared to pay a man well for striking us. We have not even got the prudence of an ass; when an ass is carrying a load, he carries it all the better the more he is beaten and abused. In the same way, a truly obedient man must never cease doing good; indeed he should do it all the better when he has to suffer for it. Otherwise he can never attain contemplation (Hexaemeron, c. 23, n. 26, Opera Omnia, V, 448b-449a).

 

21 one of the friars tells the story that a woman was possessed by a devil who said that St. Francis did them a lot of harm and that five thousand of them had come together to try to overthrow him. The friar who heard this from the devil told St. Francis, but he only stood up and said that this made him stronger than ever (Ibid., c. 18, n. 23, Opera Omnia, V, 418a).

 

 22 If anyone reads the book of Wisdom, it will make him love God fervently. St. Francis often read it, for all his poverty, and his heart was ablaze with love. And that was perfectly obvious; he bore the stigmata of Christ crucified in his hands and feet and side (Sermon II in Parasceve, Opera Omnia, IX, 265b).

 

23 The passion of Christ was impressed so vividly on St. Francis’ memory that it seemed to him he could see Christ on his Cross (5 sermo de angelis, Opera Omnia, IX, 626ab).

 

24 My dearly beloved, the angels are always reminding us of all that God has done for us. Who created us? Who redeemed us? What have we done? Whom have we offended? IF we would only remember this, we would realize that we have on excuse but to weep. Such heartfelt contrition was the gall with which St. Paul bathed his eyes, and St. Peter, too, went out and wept bitterly (Lk 22, 62). This was the gall which bathed the eyes of Mary Magdalen, because she also wept bitterly, and St. Francis wept so bitterly that he lost his sight. In our turn, we also should bathe our eyes in this bath, that we may have sight (Ibid., 625-626a).

 

25 St. Francis wept so much that his doctors told him that he would have to stop, if he did not want to go blind. Eventually he actually did go blind, as a result of his constant weeping (1 Sermo de St. Maria Magdalena, Opera Omnia, IX, 557a).

 

26 If you ask what is the virtue which makes a person love creatures, because they come from God and exist for him, I reply that it is compassion and a sort of natural affection. For example, we see that even now a person can be very fond of a dog because it obeys him faithfully. In the same way, man in his original state had a natural inclination to love animals and even irrational creatures. Therefore, the greater the progress a man makes and the nearer he approaches to the state of innocence the more docile these creatures become towards him, and the greater the affection he feels for them. We see this in the case of St. Francis; he overflowed with tender compassion even for animals, because to some extent he had returned to the state of innocence. This was made clear by the way irrational creatures obeyed him (3 Sent., d. 28, q. 1, concl., Opera Omnia, III, 622b).

 

27 If a person turns his eyes wholeheartedly towards this throne of grace and fixes his gaze on Christ hanging on his Cross, in a spirit of faith, hope, and charity, in devout admiration, exultation, appreciation, praise, and jubilation, then he celebrates the Pasch, that is, the Passover, with him. With the cross for a staff, such a person will leave Egypt and pass through the Red Sea to the desert. There he will taste hidden manna and rest with Christ in his tomb, dead to the whole world. Yet, as far as it is possible in this land of exile, he will realize the meaning of the words Christ spoke to the Good Thief, “This day you shall be with me in Paradise” (Lk 23, 43).

This was also revealed to St. Francis on the very mountain where I meditated on what I am writing here. There, in a rapture of contemplation, a Seraph with six wings speared to him, nailed to a Cross. one of his companions who was there at the time told me this himself and many others also. The saint was completely lost in God in ecstasy; he was made an example of perfect contemplation, just as he had already become an example of perfect action. Like a second Jacob, he was now to become Israel (cf. Gn 35, 10). More by his example than by his teaching God would invite all truly spiritual persons, through him, to go out of themselves in ecstasy and seek their refuge in God alone (Itinerarium, c. 7, n. 2 seq., Opera Omnia, V, 312b).

 

28 If any man has a mind to come my way, let him renounce self (Lk 9, 23)…. But that is not enough, and so our Lord adds, “And take up his cross daily,” by the constant practice of mortification, so that he can say in the words of St. Paul, “With Christ I hang upon the Cross” (Gal 2, 19); “we carry about continually in our bodies the dying state of Jesus” (2Cor 4, 10), because “those who belong to Christ have crucified nature, with all its passions, all its impulses” (Gal 5, 24).

Note that our Lord says that his follower must take up his cross daily; a man must take up the cross of penance anew every day, so that he can say, “Now I resolve to begin afresh” (Ps 76, 11). This was what St. Francis did; when he lay dying, he said that he was only beginning then to do something. “My brothers,” he said to the friars, “we must begin now to do something. Up to now we have done very little.” Christ’s Cross has the power to give a person new life; “though the outward part of our nature is being worn down, our inner life is refreshed from day to day” (2Cor 4, 16) (Comment in Evang. Lucae, c. 9, n. 37, Opera Omnia, VII 228ab).