One Possible Answer to the Mystery of Perfect Joy
“Be the Joyful Face of Christ to All!” NAFRA Theme for 2015
By Deacon Tom Bello, OFS
This past November found me on several different days for sometimes longer than an hour sitting in front of, praying before and meditating upon the original San Damiano Cross that once spoke to St. Francis and now hangs in the Church of St. Clare, Santa Chiara, in Assisi.
This Cross did not speak to me in so many words, but it did have much to say.
One important thing is that look on Christ’s face. I came to see it as a look of joy in spite of, or even because of, suffering.
Yes, the suffering is undeniable. Christ is truly hanging on the Cross, and blood is copiously flowing from the nail prints in His hands all the way down His forearms to His elbows, dripping on those below Him. Particularly bathed in blood, both from the nail print in His right hand and from the spear-piercing in His right side, stand Mary, His Mother, and John, the beloved Disciple.
Yet look at the face of the Lord! Study that face! Look at Mary’s and John’s faces! Nobody is crying. Nobody looks particularly sad. Jesus clearly is not dead. His eyes are wide-open, and to me He appears more joyful and triumphant than sad and defeated.
As many commentators on the San Damiano Cross have observed, this is the Christ of John’s Gospel. He looks in control, so to speak, laying down his life willingly in obedience to His Father and knowing that this action and His blood will take away all sin and open the gates of Heaven.
Thus, I think Christ on the San Damiano Cross offers one possible answer to the Mystery of Perfect Joy. It is not about Him! It is not about Death. It is not about Suffering. Perfect Joy is perfectly offering yourself for the glory of God and for the salvation of our brothers and sisters. If death and suffering are the only means to that end, then so be it. Take the suffering and death and give them to God! Let go and let God!
I believe both St. Francis and St. Clare understood this message, of course directly from Christ Himself, but perhaps indirectly through meditating on the Christ hanging on this same San Damiano Cross.
Perhaps this is what St. Francis is stressing in that famous story of “Perfect Joy” found in Chapter Eight of the Little Flowers of St. Francis (http://www.ccel.org/ccel/ugolino/flowers.iii.viii.html). Take your time and read it once again, word for word in the original, remembering Christ on the San Damiano Cross:
One day in winter, as St Francis was going with Brother Leo from Perugia to St Mary of the Angels, and was suffering greatly from the cold, he called to Brother Leo, who was walking on before him, and said to him: “Brother Leo, if it were to please God that the Friars Minor should give, in all lands, a great example of holiness and edification, write down, and note carefully, that this would not be perfect joy.”
A little further on, St Francis called to him a second time: “O Brother Leo, if the Friars Minor were to make the lame to walk, if they should make straight the crooked, chase away demons, give sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, speech to the dumb, and, what is even a far greater work, if they should raise the dead after four days, write that this would not be perfect joy.”
Shortly after, he cried out again: “O Brother Leo, if the Friars Minor knew all languages; if they were versed in all science; if they could explain all Scripture; if they had the gift of prophecy, and could reveal, not only all future things, but likewise the secrets of all consciences and all souls, write that this would not be perfect joy.”
After proceeding a few steps farther, he cried out again with a loud voice: “O Brother Leo, thou little lamb of God! if the Friars Minor could speak with the tongues of angels; if they could explain the course of the stars; if they knew the virtues of all plants; if all the treasures of the earth were revealed to them; if they were acquainted with the various qualities of all birds, of all fish, of all animals, of men, of trees, of stones, of roots, and of waters – write that this would not be perfect joy.”
Shortly after, he cried out again: “O Brother Leo, if the Friars Minor had the gift of preaching so as to convert all infidels to the faith of Christ, write that this would not be perfect joy.”
Now when this manner of discourse had lasted for the space of two miles, Brother Leo wondered much within himself; and, questioning the saint, he said: “Father, I pray thee teach me wherein is perfect joy.”
St Francis answered: “If, when we shall arrive at St Mary of the Angels, all drenched with rain and trembling with cold, all covered with mud and exhausted from hunger; if, when we knock at the convent-gate, the porter should come angrily and ask us who we are; if, after we have told him, `We are two of the brethren’, he should answer angrily, `What ye say is not the truth; ye are but two impostors going about to deceive the world, and take away the alms of the poor; begone I say’; if then he refuse to open to us, and leave us outside, exposed to the snow and rain, suffering from cold and hunger till nightfall – then, if we accept such injustice, such cruelty and such contempt with patience, without being ruffled and without murmuring, believing with humility and charity that the porter really knows us, and that it is God who maketh him to speak thus against us, write down, O Brother Leo, that this is perfect joy.
And if we knock again, and the porter come out in anger to drive us away with oaths and blows, as if we were vile impostors, saying, `Begone, miserable robbers! to the hospital, for here you shall neither eat nor sleep!’ – and if we accept all this with patience, with joy, and with charity, O Brother Leo, write that this indeed is perfect joy.
And if, urged by cold and hunger, we knock again, calling to the porter and entreating him with many tears to open to us and give us shelter, for the love of God, and if he come out more angry than before, exclaiming, `These are but importunate rascals, I will deal with them as they deserve’; and taking a knotted stick, he seize us by the hood, throwing us on the ground, rolling us in the snow, and shall beat and wound us with the knots in the stick – if we bear all these injuries with patience and joy, thinking of the sufferings of our Blessed Lord, which we would share out of love for him, write, O Brother Leo, that here, finally, is perfect joy.
And now, brother, listen to the conclusion. Above all the graces and all the gifts of the Holy Spirit which Christ grants to his friends, is the grace of overcoming oneself, and accepting willingly, out of love for Christ, all suffering, injury, discomfort and contempt; for in all other gifts of God we cannot glory, seeing they proceed not from ourselves but from God, according to the words of the Apostle, `What hast thou that thou hast not received from God? and if thou hast received it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it?’ But in the cross of tribulation and affliction we may glory, because, as the Apostle says again, `I will not glory save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.’ Amen.”
Again, when St. Francis is able, with and only with the grace of God, to get beyond himself, to get beyond even his own humiliation and suffering, when he realizes that it’s not really about him at all, nor about suffering, but rather about doing the Lord’s will and imitating Christ first and foremost, before every other consideration, then and only then does he realize perfect joy.
Do you see the Mystery of Perfect Joy? First, how can anything be perfect in this vale of tears? We all suffer. Second and worse, we see people we love suffer. Third and worst of all, it seems there is so little we can do to relieve the suffering in the world, in those we love, in our own lives. How can we find joy in so much suffering? Again, how can one speak of anything perfect in this life?
Well, that look on Christ’s face on the San Damiano Cross, that moral to St. Francis’s story on perfect joy, suggest to me that only when we can look beyond our own lives, our own self-importance, even our own suffering and death, and see God’s will, God’s plan, God’s complete Love and Mercy, only then can we realize that perfect joy.
Yes, there will be suffering, even death, but if we live in the Lord, suffering and even death are but steps. Suffering with the Lord is a cause for joy, not sorrow. With the Lord’s Cross, there is always the Lord’s Resurrection, and above Christ’s head on the San Damiano Cross, you can see Him rising, ascending, joyfully, confidently, into Glory.
This also seems to be the moral of St. Francis’s story. Most importantly, it’s not about St. Francis! It’s about St. Francis surrendering his will to the Lord’s will, putting even his own humiliation and suffering into the Lord’s humiliation and suffering. When he can do that, again, with and only with God’s great grace, then he can achieve Perfect Joy.
Let us pray. God, why do we get so caught up in the sin of Adam and Eve, trying to be You, trying to make our own rules and make ourselves the center of creation? Help us, Lord, to be ourselves, not You. Help us to realize that we don’t need to be and cannot be You. Help us to accept our small parts in Your plan of salvation. Help us to do what we can do, to say what we can say, to pray what we can pray for your Glory and for the salvation of our sisters and brothers AND LET YOU BE GOD. We don’t need to be Pope; we don’t need to be God. Let Pope Francis be Pope. Let You, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, be God, and help us do what we can.
In doing what we can, what we should, in accord with Your Will, even if it involves humiliation, suffering and death, let us realize that Mystery of Perfect Joy. We pray in Jesus’ name.
Reflection Questions
- After some serious study, how would you describe Christ’s face as He hangs on the San Damiano Cross?
- How would you describe the faces and bodily expressions of Saints Mary and John?
- What might be the Lord’s “perfect joy” while hanging and dying on the Cross?
- What are, say, three things that are not “perfect joy” as St. Francis explains it to Brother Leo?
- What are, say, three things that are “perfect joy” as St. Francis explains it to Brother Leo??
- How would you explain “perfect joy” in your own words?
- What was the NAFRA Theme for 2015? In your own opinion, did you do a good job in accomplishing it? Why or why not?
This is an excerpt from a series of articles by the late Deacon Tom Bello, OFS, former Minister of the National Secular Franciscan Order – USA. “Many of these essays were originally published in TAU-USA, our national newsletter,” said Jan Parker, OFS, current National Minister. “They are excellent for reflection and ongoing formation.” Jan helped Tom publish these essays in book form. It is called For All The Saints: St. Francis’s Five-Point Plan for Salvation and is available from Tau Publishing. These excerpts will appear several times a week on the Secular Franciscans website.
Easter Sunday 2020, Fr. Christopher, T.O.R.
The time—a Sunday morning in the year 33 A.D.
The place—a garden on a hill outside Jerusalem.
The scene—a stone slab in a darkened tomb.
A torn, lifeless body wrapped in white, resting motionless upon the stone. It’s quiet. The guards are asleep outside. The turmoil and excitement of the previous Friday have faded away into boredom. The man is dead. He promised much, but came through with little. He stirred up a fuss for a while, a typical agitator disturbing the people. But now He’s dead, and let’s quickly set about the business of forgetting Him.
Then the sun peeps over the horizon. A shaft of light pierces the darkened tomb. And something happened. What happened? How do we know? Look not to the empty tomb for proof. Even if we proved the tomb empty, we can still refuse to believe. Most people refused belief. Rather, look to the lives of His followers.
Look at those dejected, despairing men on Saturday. Look at them gradually come to life on Sunday. Look at them slowly come to the conviction: He lives! He lives on! After death, He gives life! His words, His deeds, His very person who promised life, healed life, built life, and redeemed life—now lives on to give life forever.
That to my mind is the message of Easter—the message of Resurrection. Not so much that a torn and lifeless body came back to life, appeared a few times, and left the world never to return until Judgment Day. That is not the message of His followers. They proclaim:
- “Behold, I am with you all days…”
- “Where two or three are gathered in My name, I am in your midst.”
- “I am the vine, you the branches.”
- “What you do or not do to these least ones, you do or not do to Me.”
- “Live on in My love, and the Father and I will come and make our home in you.”
- “I live now, not I, but Christ lives in me.”
Those who are baptized live no longer their own life but the life of Him who died for them and rose again. Christ is in you—your hope of glory! Do you not know that you are the body of Christ!
Mysterious?—indeed. Baffling?—yes. Confusing?—of course. That’s the Word of God. That is what His followers experienced. They gradually become convinced not that Jesus left the world, but that He remains in the world, more closely, more widely, more intimately bound up in the affairs and lives of men and women than He ever was before.
You see, before the Resurrection, Jesus had a body like yours and mine (not so big!), a body confined to time and space, a body that could trudge the roads of Palestine, a body that limited Him so He could live within the confines of one set of hands and feet, one human frame, one human heart. But now, with Resurrection, His followers proclaim He has a new body, one united with millions of other human frames, present to all those men and women who fill their lives with faith and love, a body that can walk the streets of Jerusalem and Rome, Washington and New York, through you and through me. And so…
The time—Sunday morning in the year 2020 A.D.
The place—a garden-spot on the outskirts of Hollidaysburg.
The scene—this Chapel.
Let us see this Chapel today as the darkened tomb in which a body, this body of Christ, rests motionless, waiting for resurrection. It’s quiet. Outside, many are asleep. Good Friday has slipped even farther into the past so that the world is even more bored with Christ than it was 2,000 years ago, a world no longer disturbed by Him, a world that has succeeded quite well in the business of forgetting Him. After all, the man is dead.
And if He remains dead this morning. If the sun does not burst over our horizon. If a shaft of light does not pierce this darkened tomb. If the body remains lifeless, undisturbed by Jesus, uncommitted to God and to others, this Easter, then it will be because you and I do not offer Him new flesh, new hands, a new heart in which He can rise.
Once again, the Resurrection of Jesus will be proven not so much by arguments over an empty tomb, but by proof of filled-up lives. Do you not know that you are the body of Christ?
Many of us do know that. Many spouses, fathers and mothers, young and old know that—by their commitment to healing and compassion, care and self-donation. Many have offered Christ a body in which He is proud to dwell, in which He is proud to rise again.
But even we need to hear. And those sleeping outside need even more to hear about the dignity and responsibilities of vocation: to be Church, to live in fraternity, to be a new humanity. The Church, and in many ways the entire human family, are people first and foremost called toward the Risen Christ—people in whom He lives, people in whose hearts He dwells—that He might continue the work of mercy and peace, forgiveness and healing to a world still reaching out for life and reconciliation.
The Church is not a divine comfort station where we gather to admire the pretty flowers and music. The Church is a launching-pad which sends us forth from this darkened tomb, to plant the seeds of new life, in a world still gasping in the pains of death.
So, I say to you this day—the heart of our faith is not an empty tomb. The heart of our faith is filled-up lives, lives full of what Jesus said and did, lives that are poor in spirit, full of mercy, thirsty for justice, makers of peace. The Gospels say that the Risen Lord left His garments behind in the tomb. Let’s see this as a symbol that Jesus is now clothed with the garments of the world—the lives of men and women.
The tomb is empty. But men and women are filled. We are filled with the Risen Lord if we would look within, down deep into our lives, and find there the power to heal and the power to love.
So as the Risen Christ proclaims “I am the Resurrection and the Life,” I proclaim to you: “we are the resurrection and the life.” We are the body of Christ, risen to life from the tomb, sent forth into the world to care and to cherish an earth, which stands bathed in the light of Easter morn.
Father Christopher, T.O.R.
CNSA, Servant-in-turn