Fr. Chris is one of the kindest, clearest communicators of the Gospel that I know, and he provides concrete advice and digestible theology. He really captured the spirit that this podcast is for “all of us.”

Mentioned: Saint Paul the Apostle Church, New York City

Social Media: Instagram: @cwlawton; X / Twitter: @CWLawton

Segment: Obedience in the Paulist Context

Fr. Chris used to think that obedience was just about doing what his Superiors say. But the relationship around obedience is much more about shared discernment and clear communication. He says that we are all called to obey God’s invitation to love God and love our neighbor.

Segment: Obedience and Moral Virtue

In this short segment, I open up to Fr. Chris about obedience in my own home: My wife loves asking for obedience from our son, I find the word off-putting (turns out she’s right). Fr. Chris answers with an excellent analysis of the moral teachings of the church. He explains the distinction between “morality of obligation” and “the morality of virtue”.

Segment: Obedience and Freedom

In this segment, Fr. Chris discusses the ways that obedience properly understood can be a path to greater freedom. It allows for letting go and having the proper perspective. He uses the example of following the church’s teachings — as well as caring for your spouse — in a marriage.

Clip

A shorter clip of Fr. Chris explaining the morality of virtue (because it is so helpful!). How we can live the good life:

I am grateful to Fr. Chris for sharing his wisdom with us! His social media information is available in the Show Notes.

What stood out to you in this conversation? What more do you want to know about obedience?

Lauren “Lo” Reliford and I met in the trenches of D.C., faith-based advocacy during her time at Sojourners. We do not always agree, but ours is a friendship that is based on mutual respect and care that can survive disagreement and that can challenge each other in ways that foster growth. I think you will love the passionate and straightforward ways in which she talks about this topic.

Find Lo on Social Media: Instagram: @Lwrelifordmsw

Don’t have time to watch the whole thing? Here are some segments and clips:

Segment: The Perspective of a Social Worker

Lo discusses the way that the perspective of her social work expertise causes her to consider the full spectrum of a person’s life, not just one piece at a time.

Segment: Challenges in faith-based advocacy

Lo reflects — quite candidly — on some of the challenges she felt while working in faith-based advocacy.

Segment: Charity and Justice

Lo and I discuss the way that charity and justice are often pitted against each other. We both reject the idea that we have to choose one or the other — we need both. Lo says, “There’s a level of ego in thinking it’s one or the other”.

Clip: “The poor will always be with you”

I asked Lauren what she makes of this Bible Verse. Her answer:

Clip: Beauty in the human being

Lo talks about the way that barriers get in the way of the beauty of who each person was mean to be.

Clip: Lo’s Benediction

I loved this benediction from Lo. So, I wanted to pull it out for you. It’s beautiful and fun.

What did you think of the conversation? What follow-up questions do you have? Let us know in the comments or via email!

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Kyra Koons is the Director of Capuchin Corps — the volunteer service organization of the Capuchin friars. She’s not only the director — she’s a graduate of the program. She’s the perfect person to talk about how Franciscans and their lay friends can understand the vow of poverty and live it out daily.

Mentioned: Cap Corps

Find Capuchin Corps on social media: Instagram: @capcorpseast; Facebook: Capuchin Franciscan Volunteer Corps - Cap Corps; LinkedIn: Capuchin Franciscan Volunteer Corps (Cap Corps)

Don’t have time to watch the whole thing right now? Here are some segments and clips

Segment One: Four Pillars of Cap Corps

Kyra describes the four pillars of Cap Corps Franciscan spirituality.

Segment Two: The spirit of Franciscan Service

Kyra tells me about the ways that the Capuchin Corps work is designed to go deeper than simple volunteering.

Short Clips:

“Building relationships is our ministry”

Francis gave his life to God, fully. He did not set out to be a saint; he followed the Gospel and became a saint. Let’s get back to basics!

What did you think of this episode? What are some ways you can approach this vow in your daily life? Answer in the comments!

Poverty is at the center of everything related to St. Francis. So, we’re not going to try to rush through this topic. Instead, we’ll have a few posts related to different elements of poverty in Franciscan spirituality, and then we will make sure that poverty is at the core of our content on this journey.

This will include:

• How Franciscans define poverty.

• The call to solidarity with people in need.

• Tackling systemic poverty.

• Solidarity Stories – an ongoing series where we hear from people about their work with people in need, and what we can learn from them.

What questions do you have about poverty? What stories do you want to hear – or tell? Leave us a comment or shoot us an email.

What Franciscans really mean by poverty

When the United States government talks about poverty, they mean $15,960 in income per individual or $33,000 in income for a family of four. It’s focused on a concrete, material outcome.

The spiritual poverty of the Franciscan friars and sisters is quite different. The solemn vow of poverty is a voluntary form of poverty that is freely chosen. It means that the vowed Franciscan does not own anything. This is less about a legalistic approach to material goods and more about relationships:

• Relationship with and imitation of Jesus’s own poverty.

• Relationship and availability toward other people.

• Depending on God for their needs.

As William Short, OFM says in his 19th lecture on the life of Saint Francis, “The purpose of Franciscan Gospel or evangelical poverty is not that I should be impoverished. That’s not the focus. The focus is rather on the other – that the other should be enriched. That the one who has less should now have more because I have given what I have.”

Franciscan poverty does not lionize material poverty. Short says, “Franciscan poverty, far from blessing economic impoverishment of others, stands as a protest against it, and it stands as a radical protest against any form of private ownership of the gifts of God.”

To live a life of poverty is to live free from possession or the desire to possess. This applies to more than just money, and can apply to things like our titles, our knowledge, and anything else that we feel attached to in place of feeling attached to God. We are called to give away our gifts and share them.

The story of original sin is, indeed, the story of wanting possession of something – the apple in the garden – rather than trusting in God. Short says, “As soon as we begin to draw a line around what is mine and what is yours, in a Franciscan way of looking at things, we have the beginnings of violence.”

Imitating Christ

Bob Burnham, a secular Franciscan, writes, “[Francis] embraced poverty not out of idealism. Francis embraced poverty because Christ did. Francis recognized that by becoming human in the form of Jesus, God had ‘made Himself poor in our world.’ If he was going to imitate Jesus Christ in all things, Francis reasoned, he would have to imitate Christ in his poverty.”

Dependence on God and each other

Ilia Delio, OSF writes about the ways that Francis and Claire both saw a spiritual value in being dependent on others. They believed it revealed God’s Goodness: “When we allow others to do things for us, God’s goodness shines through them. Poverty is not so much about want or need; it is about relationships. Poverty impels us to reflect on our lives in the world from the position of weakness, dependency, and vulnerability.”

This allows us to offer ourselves to each other in a fuller way, and to seek to be in communion with each other rather than possess each other or use each other for material gain.

What this means for Franciscans

Franciscans themselves own nothing. They don’t have personal bank accounts. Everything they receive belongs to the friary. While Franciscan orders do own property and don’t quite live the day-to-day experience of poverty exactly like Francis did, they aim to live simply in their communities. Just how literally to take Francis’s rule of poverty has been a source of division throughout history — between the Holy See and the Franciscan orders and between Franciscan orders themselves.

What this means for us

You may not have taken a religious vow of poverty. I haven’t! Does that mean we are off the hook? You can guess my answer…No.

Throughout this journey together, I plan to ask some priests and lay brothers and sisters about the proper economic orientation lay people should have toward poverty. For now, though, our marching orders from the vow of poverty are clear:

We should consider the ways that we draw our own lines of what is “mine” and what is “theirs”. What are we overly attached to in our own lives – whether that is material goods, our own pridefulness, our fear of having or being enough, our title at work, our standing in the community, whatever – in a way that makes it harder for us to be in a truly generous relationship with other people? God is probably not calling each of us to give up our homes or our careers. But he probably is calling us to a healthier relationship with all of these things.

When we make less space in our hearts for things, we can push aside our pride and make room for humility and love. That is the path to a stronger relationship with God, each other, and ourselves.

Photo by IP Withers on Unsplash

As one province describes them, “These commitments are often mistakenly viewed as limitations on one’s personal freedoms. Yet for Franciscans, vows are far from repressive. They represent an ongoing, intentional embrace of the Gospel – a freely chosen commitment renewed day after day.”

Quick overview of the vows

Here is a quick overview of each vow, taken from the Province of Our Lady of Guadalupe:

Poverty: Franciscan poverty is not homelessness or impoverishment, but a commitment to simplicity and dependence within fraternity. Friars own nothing individually, instead sharing goods and depending on the community and divine providence for their needs.

This culture allows friars to prioritize relationships over possessions. Franciscan poverty is not a renunciation of the world, but a way of standing closer to those whose lives are marked by frailty or need.

Chastity: In Franciscan life, chastity is a commitment to celibate love, guiding friars to serve God, each other and the wider community. It encourages them to form inclusive relationships as brothers and companions, instead of exclusive bonds to a partner.

Obedience: Franciscan friars practice obedience by seeking God’s will through prayer, Scripture, fraternity and responding to the world’s needs. They make decisions together, guided by leaders, rather than depending on personal preference.

New Series: Introducing the Three Vows

Over the course of the next four podcast episodes, we are going to unpack these vows in different ways.

Kyra Koons of Capuchin Volunteer Corps will talk about the vow of poverty and how her volunteer network lives out that vow and learns about it together. Lauren Reliford, MSW, will explain the Catholic call to combat systemic poverty in our society.

Next, Fr. Chris Lawton, a Paulist Father, will talk about what the vow of obedience looks like in his community — and how each of us can live it out.

Finally, I’ll share a reflection on chastity that draws heavily from Bishop Erik Varden’s Desert Fathers podcast episode on the topic. Then I will talk to Fr. Mike Lasky, OFM Conv., who leads the international office of justice and peace for the Franciscans. He will reflect on the true meaning of love and its many components.

These reflections are for all of us

What I love about these conversations is that they don’t feel overly academic in any way. Each of our guests connects these vows to real life — for religious and lay people alike. Even nonreligious people could benefit from the wisdom that they provide.

I hope you enjoy them!

Photo by Wenhao Ruan on Unsplash

Madeline Pecora Nugent is the award-winning author of Francesco: A Story of Saint Francis, a unique biography on the life of this Substack’s patron saint. Through her distinctive story-telling style, Nugent presents Francis from the perspective of those who interacted with him.

As we seek to know the real biography and spirituality of Francis, Nugent is able to introduce both in a really moving way.

Mentioned:

Books: Francesco: A Story of Saint Francis of Assisi - Pauline Books & Media; Chiara: A story of Saint Clare of Assisi; Antonio: A Story of St. Anthony

Other: Confraternity of Penitents

📚 Share this episode to enter the raffle for Madeline’s book!

If you prefer to listen on YouTube or Spotify, just search “Our Little Portion” on those platforms.

If you enjoyed this, recommending Our Little Portion on Substack is the best way to help it grow.

Subscribe now

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Don’t have time to watch the full episode right now?
Here are a few segments and clips:

Segments

Nugent discusses Saint Francis’s conversion of heart regarding the lepers in his community.

She provides a recommendation for how we can have flourishing spiritual lives like Saint Francis: Use him as a yardstick to look at your own life and root out attachments that you need to give up.

Clips

Nugent explains Francis’s conversion from Knight to Saint.

Madeline shares a story that inspires her pro-life work: A little-known story of Saint Francis helping a mother and saving a baby.

Have you read the book? What did you think? What do you still want to know about Saint Francis? Let us know in the comments!

As we continue drawing closer to this saint, we should also ask who Saint Francis really was. In a couple of days, we will publish our interview with the award-winning biographer Madeline Pecora Nugent, author of Francesco: A Story of Saint Francis.

Her books takes a unique approach — drawing deeply from the historical record as well as stringing together short stories to help us understand the life of Saint Francis.

As we pose this question, “Who is Francis really?”, I’ll briefly offer my own way of defining the real man.

For me, Francis was primarily a contradiction – he was in relationship with all people and all things while being possessive of no one and nothing.

Let’s start with what Saint Francis let go. Then we can talk about what he gained.

Giving Up

Francis was born to a wealthy cloth merchant and dreamed of being a knight. He let all of this go. He went so far in his desire to give to the poor and the Church that he gave away his father’s money – money that was not his! He handed over his clothes – the clothes he was wearing – to his father in the town square and declared, “Up to now, I have called Pietro di Bernardone 'my father’. Hereafter I shall not say, Father Pietro di Bernardone, but Our Father Who Art in Heaven!”

The things Francis previously possessed were not all bad. Family and noble knighthood are good things, but they are not as good as serving the Lord.

Francis took literally the Gospel passages to give up everything to follow Christ. This doesn’t just mean letting go of the bad things, it means freeing ourselves from good things that are not as good as God.

Relationships with all

As I continue to dig into the basics of Franciscan spirituality, one word continues to show up: “Relationship.” Franciscan spirituality is all about being in relationship with others — especially the poor. It is based on an understanding that everyone and everything created by God is inherently good. Through his conversion, Saint Francis had a profound sense of this reality, and it led him on a different path of life.

He took the Gospel seriously. As a result, he loved his neighbors – including the lepers toward whom he once felt “bitter”. He became their brother. In the middle of the Crusades, he loved his so-called enemy by crossing enemy lines and having interreligious conversations with the Sultan. He did not rule over the brotherhood and sisterhood of companions, he sought to serve them and create a community of equality. He spent his life breaking down barriers between himself and other people – including people who society demanded be kept at a distance.

As we know, this was not limited to his relationships with people. He understood humans as a central part of the larger ecology that God created. And so, he preached to the birds and cared for creation in a way that has echoed through the centuries.

This love had a clear source: Christ and the Eucharist. Eucharist means “Thanksgiving.” Francis lived a life of gratitude to God and relationship with all of God’s creation.

Learning more

I am just scratching the surface here. Soon, I’ll publish my conversation with award-winning Saint Francis biographer Madeline Pecora Nugent, cfp. We talk through the life that Francis led and the lessons that he has for us. I hope you will be as inspired as I was with Nugent’s expertise as well as her deep faith.

Few American journalists know Pope Leo XIV better than Christopher White. He even wrote one of the first books about the new pope: Pope Leo XIV: Inside the Conclave and the Dawn of a New Papacy. As Leo prepares to travel to Assisi later this week, we discuss the Franciscan elements of his papacy. Chris shares stories of covering the conclave that elected the first American pope, and we dive deep into Leo’s leadership on the world stage — and how his calls for peace mirror the best of the Franciscan ethic.

Mentioned: Pope Leo XIV: Inside the Conclave and the Dawn of a New Papacy from Loyola Press; The Initiative on Catholic Social Thought and Public Life at Georgetown University

Find Christopher White: Twitter: @ChrisWhiteGU

📚 Share this episode to enter the raffle for Chris’s book!

If you enjoyed this, recommending Our Little Portion on Substack is the best way to help it grow.

Subscribe now

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Don’t have time to watch the full episode right now?
Here are a few clips:

Christopher explains how the “Christocentric” style of Pope Leo XIV mirrors the approach of Saint Francis.

We talk about the quiet confidence of Pope Leo XIV, and how he is living the ethic of “Be Not Afraid”:

Leo’s call that “another way is possible” is similar to Saint Francis.

What are your thoughts as Pope Leo prepares to visit Assisi for the 800th anniversary of Saint Francis’s death?

What more do you want to know about Saint Francis?

Next week, we will publish our interview with Madeline Pecora Nugent, one of Saint Francis’s most recent biographers.

Over 800 years ago, Saint Francis wrote that the Lord had instructed him to greet all people with the phrase, “May the Lord give you peace.”

When Pope Leo XIV stepped onto the balcony at St. Peter’s Basilica for the first time, he issued the greeting, “Peace be with you.”

This phrase feels commonplace to us today, but according to Franciscan Brother Bill Short, it was not received this way in Francis’s own time. It was an unusual greeting for a religious leader to use. It indicated that he wanted to “intervene or interfere in the conflicts” of the day, as Short puts it. And Francis did intervene in civil society in Assisi and elsewhere to try to keep the peace – whether he was welcome to do so or not.

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Francis and the Powers

In one example provided by Brother Short, the Bishop and the Mayor of Assisi were in a bitter feud. The bishop excommunicated the mayor. The mayor banned citizens of Assisi from doing business with the bishop.

Sister Cecilia Francis describes Francis’s response:

“St. Francis had an idea, and it began with creating a new stanza for his canticle: Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation. Blessed are those who endure in peace for by You, Most High, shall they be crowned. Once written, he taught the verse to one of the brothers and sent him to gather the Bishop, the Mayor and all who were with them. This good brother did as St. Francis had instructed him, and after they were gathered, he sang the Canticle of Brother Sun, complete with the new verse. Upon hearing it, the spiritual and temporal rulers of Assisi were moved to make peace with each other, forgiving and embracing one another.”

In an episode later in Francis’s life, he visited Sultan Malik al-Kamil. It is hard for us to grasp just how outlandish this was. In the middle of the era of crusades, Francis crossed enemy lines, unarmed, to meet with the highest leader of Muslim troops. The Sultan ultimately accepted him. Francis preached. The Sultan listened. The two men had a peaceful interreligious dialogue that would have seemed unimaginable beforehand.

In these actions, Francis reflected the commands from Jesus to love our neighbors as well as to love our enemies. When he returned home, he wrote new rules for missionaries that continued to prioritize sharing the Gospel and performing baptisms and also emphasized the value of avoiding disputes and living peacefully with people of other religions.

Leo and the Powers

Pope Leo XIV reflects this same value: He is willing to stand firm and speak clearly in proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus, while also seeking unity and reconciliation across lines of difference. Like Francis, he does this without fear.

The Pope chose Lebanon as his first foreign visit. A clip went viral of the Queen of Spain visiting the Vatican and asking him if it was safe to travel there. Leo responded simply, “Well, we’re going.”

When asked about sharp critiques from President Donald Trump, the pope said, “I’m not afraid of the Trump administration or of speaking out loudly about the message of the Gospel, which is what the church works for…I will not shy away from announcing the message of the Gospel and inviting all people to look for ways of building bridges of peace and reconciliation.”

Francis’s meddling was often unwelcome by the powers, but it often produced breakthroughs. In a similar way, Pope Leo’s calls for peace have not always been greeted favorably by rulers. That has not stopped him.

Uniting the people in love

Saint Francis and Pope Leo each root their work in the Gospel message, and they do so by centering their words and actions in the love of Christ. While they speak hard truths with moral clarity, they do so in a spirit of love and charity.

Leo XIV’s predecessor took the name “Francis” in part due to Jesus’s command to Saint Francis to “rebuild my church.” This is clearly a priority for Leo as well. From the very first days of his papacy, he has especially focused on rebuilding the unity of the church. He’s conducted outreach to LGBT activists within the Church, while also showing care for more traditional movements such as Catholics who find special meaning in the Traditional Latin Mass. His Vatican appointments have been remarkably balanced, including appointing some leaders who had clearly clashed with his predecessor. He’s reached out to Christians of other denominations and taken steps to try to unite the universal Church. And, like Saint Francis with the Sultan, he has conducted interreligious dialogue and visits alongside his counterparts in other religious traditions.

Through his first Apostolic Exhortation, Dilexi Te, Leo also made Saint Francis’s example central to his vision for the church, writing:

His life was one of continuous self-emptying: from the palace to the leper, from eloquence to silence, from possession to total gift. Francis did not found a social service organization, but an evangelical fraternity. In the poor, he saw brothers and sisters, living images of the Lord. His mission was to be with them, and he did so through a solidarity that overcame distances and a compassionate love. Francis’ poverty was relational: it led him to become neighbor, equal to, or indeed lesser than others. His holiness sprang from the conviction that Christ can only be truly received by giving oneself generously to one’s brothers and sisters.

This is the example from which Leo draws. This is the example we should all follow.

(Photo: Edgar Beltrán / The Pillar; accessed via Wikimedia Commons)

In this inaugural post, I want to make something clear – for myself and for you: This will not be easy. To follow the example of Saint Francis is not to take a sentimental path; it requires a journeying downward, letting go of our egos, and undergoing a conversion of heart toward God and our neighbors.

As if to make this point, the pope’s decree quotes a letter from Saint Francis:

“And in this I want to know if you love the Lord and love me as his servant and yours, if you will do this, namely, that there may never be a brother in the world who has sinned as much as he could sin, who, after seeing your eyes, goes away without your merciful forgiveness, if he asks for it.”

This sentence sums up Saint Francis’s way.

It starts by calling us to Jesus’s Greatest Commandment: “Love God with all your heart, all your mind, and all your soul, and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:30-31) Francis calls on his brother to start by “loving the Lord.” Next, he asks for his brother to love Francis as God’s service and theirs. Francis identifies himself primarily as a servant of God and connects this directly to his service toward his brother. Francis provides clear advice but does not seek to situate himself above his brother in any way.

Next, Francis calls us away from judgment. This is one of my greatest spiritual challenges right now. I suspect I’m not alone.

Francis asks us to consider all of humanity, and then to consider someone, “who has sinned as much as he could sin.” With all the crookedness of the human heart, our minds can turn to some dark places if we contemplate what this could really mean. And yet, what is Francis asking us to do? To embody a mercy so full that it can be felt simply by looking into our eyes. Nothing short of a profound spiritual conversion will suffice.

The true path of Francis

To live mercy fully requires a total renovation of our hearts and souls. This last clause is a strong representation of Saint Francis’s aversion toward doing anything halfway.

He did not just abandon his path of becoming a wealthy knight, he gave away all that he had.

He did not just donate funds to help the Lepers; he loved them, lived with them, and served them.

He did not just read the Gospels; he took them literally and reoriented his life around them.

When he assembled a remarkable community of brothers and sisters, Francis did not seek to be their hierarchical leader; he was their brother.

Where we’re going

Francis’s way sounds familiar because it is Jesus’s way. If we confine Saint Francis to the bird bath, the garden, or cute children’s books, we might miss the way that his radical lifestyle turned the world upside down – and can do the same in our lives.

So, Our Little Portion is an opportunity to go deeper. Our name comes from the Portiuncula in Assisi: The church that Saint Francis rebuilt by hand and that became the place from which his movement would grow. Through Saint Francis’s intercession, let’s search our own hearts and courageously ask God what he wants to change. Let’s truly let go of our egos, of our materialism, and of anything that stands between us and God.

I am writing this as someone who has completely figured this out and who can show you the path forward… Just kidding! I am writing as someone who needs these words as much as you do, and who is excited about this opportunity to walk together. We’ll explore many of these themes in much more detail in the months ahead, with experts who can serve as our guides.

Together, we will explore the life of Francis and his companions, learn about the basics of Franciscan spirituality, and hear stories of solidarity that are based on Francis’s example. If we do this right, we’ll learn more about Jesus and his call to us, too.

Earlier this year, I traveled to Assisi to walk in the footsteps of Francis and his companions. I stood inside the Portiuncula or “Little Portion” church that Francis built. I hope that we can build our own little movement together.

Along the way, I want to hear your questions, receive your comments, and field your criticisms. I want to know what you want to learn about and know any questions we can put forward to our experts.

This is not going to be easy. But it’s going to be awesome.

As we move closer to the launch of Our Little Portion, we’ve created an opportunity for you to be entered into a raffle for one of my favorite things in the world: free books. The books are listed below, and you can read more about the terms here. It’s pretty simple:

1. Invite others to join (via social media, text messages, emails, restacking, whatever.)

2. Comment “Shared!” on any of our posts, or email ourlittleportion@substack.com to let us know that you shared.

Thank you!

Francesco, A Story of Saint Francis of Assisi

by Madeline Pecora Nugent

Pope Leo XIV: Inside the Conclave and the Dawn of a New Papacy

by Christopher White

Thea Bowman: Faithful and Free

by Fr. Maurice Nutt

A few hours later, I received a text from my friend Michael Wear, the CEO of The Center for Christianity and Public Life — on whose board I serve. He texted me that the organization had applied for a grant to send their small staff and board to Assisi.

Sometimes God is not in the mood for subtlety.

Months later, as our van climbed the mountainside in Assisi, I felt like a kid on their way to Disney World. The feeling heightened as we walked through the medieval streets of Assisi and arrived at the Basilica where Francis is entombed.

Our tour guide gave us a wonderful reflection as we walked down the sloped floor of the lower church. He invited us to imagine walking into the waters of spirituality; to feel ourselves getting deeper into communion with God as we walked. He pointed out the way in which the paintings on one wall focused on Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, and the other wall mirrored these events with moments in Francis’s own life. We examined the ceiling paintings that reflect the three virtues of the Franciscan tradition: Chastity, poverty, and obedience.

Then it was time: We walked to the steps that would take us down to the crypt of the church where St. Francis is buried. I wondered again how I would react. In truth, I was hoping for something profound: To break down crying like I did at Our Lady of Guadalupe, or some similar outward experience. Maybe I’d be overcome, and prostrate myself right at the tomb. My focus was very much on my reaction.

Something different happened, no less profound. When I knelt down and put my hands on the stone that holds Francis’s tomb, I felt a strong sense of connection. But the feeling was more one of determination than emotion. At first, I felt disappointed. I’m an emotional guy — where were the waterworks?

The Holy Spirit was calling me to a different posture, no doubt through some intercession of the man in this tomb.

A Bible verse came to my mind as if from nowhere, “He is not here, for he has been raised just as he said.” (Matthew 28:6).

Who was not here? Francis? … No, Jesus.

I felt as though I was receiving fraternal correction — at the very least, from the example of St. Francis himself, if not from something even spiritually deeper. I was not going to have some emotional reaction at this tomb because the tomb, the basilica, the saint himself, all point beyond the tomb in which Francis lies — toward the empty tomb of Jesus.

Sometimes, I can get really interested in a saint’s life, or a book, or a practice, or a form of liturgy. These are helpful. But ultimately, these things only lead us deeper in our faith if they are leading us closer to Jesus. If we focus too much on the nonessentials, we miss the whole point.

We face a particular temptation to do this with St. Francis.

He preached to the birds!

He befriended a wolf!

He loved to walk through and commune with nature!

But we need to be careful not to turn Francis into Eliza Thornberry in a robe.

Francis was close to nature because he was close to God. He had a deep understanding not only of the natural world but of the supernatural one.

He loved the birds because he loved Jesus.

He gave up all that he had because he loved Jesus.

He lived in a cave because he loved Jesus.

He rebuilt the church because he loved Jesus.

He received the stigmata like Jesus because he reached a level of love for Christ that few people ever have.

St. Francis is the saint we need in our time not just because of who he was, but because of where he points us: Jesus, killed on the cross and risen up in glory.

Later in the day, I knelt before the San Damiano cross in Santa Chiara. This is the cross from which Francis heard Jesus say, “Rebuild my church, which you can see has fallen into ruin.”

The cross is where we are headed. It is where we are needed. From there, we will find our vocation. And in a way, our vocation brings us back to it.

As I knelt there, I asked God, “Lord, tell me where you want me to go. Tell me what you want me to do. You spoke so clearly from this place to St. Francis, and he followed you until the very end. Help me to listen to you, and help me to accept your call to go wherever you want me to go, and to build whatever you want me to build. Lead me, and I will follow.”

Afterward, I lit four candles — one for my son Joseph, one for my son on the way, and one for each of my friend Michael’s children. I asked God to show them the path clearly, and to help them to follow it, too.

In the end, I did not have the big tear-filled moment at the tomb of St. Francis that I had expected. But I felt like God was calling me to something deeper and giving me a reminder of where I ultimately need to go. As the Gospel reading told us the Sunday before our visit, Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. May we each grow in our understanding of this truth and open our hearts to it more fully.

Where he leads, let us follow.

Where he calls, let us go.

What he’s asking us to build, let’s build — together.