Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity

 

"Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's." (Matthew 22:21).

Those of us who remember the old "Offices of Instruction" found in the 1928 Book of Common Prayer may recall what we were taught about our duty under the commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.” We were instructed that it meant “To keep my hands from picking and stealing: To be true and just in all my dealings.” 

It is a simple instruction, and there is real wisdom in it. It recognizes that there are two kinds of stealing, two ways of depriving someone else of what rightfully belongs to him. The first is "picking and stealing," which is the plain meaning of theft as an act of undisciplined impulse. The impulse to grab what belongs to someone else truly is destructive. Is it not a sign of loving parents to teach their children how to fight this temptation, and to respect the property of others? It is evident that the urge to “pick and to steal” is very much a childish thing, and certainly not "childlike" or innocent in its results. One of the hidden costs of every purchase we make is the storekeeper’s loss through theft, passed on to his customers in higher prices. The weakest and most defenseless members of society who are most hurt most by theft-inflated prices – the sick, widows, orphans, the elderly – are the very people who are most often on severely limited incomes. In fact, there are entire neighbourhoods in our country without a single store because they have been driven out of business by “picking and stealing.” 

However, the second sort of stealing mentioned in the old Instruction might be even more destructive; namely, the planned and unconscionable theft of failing to be true and just in all our dealings. The doing of truth and justice takes real effort, but so does the denying of truth and justice. If “picking and stealing” can destroy a business or a neighborhood, the refusal to be true and just can destroy an entire church, society, or nation. 

People make mistakes, of course, but honest people try to learn from their errors. Honest people spend their lives trying to learn and to do what is true and just; whereas dishonest people actively cultivate an ignorance of what God demands of every human being. Even though we might pass a thousand laws to protect the innocent and to punish the guilty (and we have), no human law can possibly succeed if the law of God is despised. We have no hope of teaching or even of forcing someone else to be honest, until we have worked to keep our own hands from picking and stealing, and until we have given our own hearts over to God's justice and truth in all our dealings. 

Each one of us has been born into this world with the stain of original sin, and because of that, the pursuit of justice and truth takes a life-long effort if we want to be sanctified in Christ. It is Christ who provides for our failures by offering us His Father's pardon any time we repent of our sins and confess them. 

It was this same repentance that Christ was looking for from the Scribes and Pharisees when He said “Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s,” even though it was their intention to trick him, and not to learn about justice and truth. Their question about paying taxes to Caesar was a trap. If Christ had said, “Yes, pay the tax,” the Pharisees could denounce Him to the people as a Roman collaborator. If He spoke against the tax, they could hand Him over to the Roman governour as a revolutionary (which eventually they did anyway). 

Yet the Scribes and Pharisees failed to trap Him immediately, because Christ asked to see their money, which turned out to be Roman coins. Under the Jewish law which the Pharisees were claiming to be following, even touching a coin engraved with the image of a man (in this case Caesar) made a Jewish man unclean and unable to enter the Temple. But they had just come from the Temple with their pouches full of ritually unclean Roman money. The crowd which had gathered, hearing this, probably burst out laughing at the Pharisees’ hypocrisy, and at Christ’s deflation of their supposedly-clever plan to get the best of Him. So the only thing the Pharisees could do was to shake their heads in wonder, as Jesus declared, “Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” 

That word "render" is our key to understanding this teaching of Christ. It means, “to give someone else what is rightfully his.” In this case, the Pharisees had taken not only Caesar's money for their own use, but they also took advantage of the other benefits of the Roman political system. In return, they owed Caesar his taxes on that money. The tax wasn't voluntary. It wasn't a gift to Caesar. The tax was a debt, and failure to pay it would have been theft. 

But if Christ’s words have bound us to meet our obligations to our civil governors, we ought not to forget the rest of His teaching that day, by which He bound us to render to God the things that are God’s. It was the Pharisees’ doctrine, and not Christ’s, that “we have no king but Caesar” (John 19:15). Our Lord Jesus Christ is the King of kings and the Lord of lords. Whatever lawful authority any king or government may possess can be given only by God. No state can command our worship, because worship belongs to God alone. 

One of the founding principles of the United States, now obscured by secularist propaganda, is that we Americans have no King but Jesus Christ. Our American heritage of national Thanksgiving Days and voluntary annual stewardship drives constitutes our tribute, our custom, our fear, and our honour that are owed to the Sovereign Majesty ruling us and providing for us (compare Romans 13:7, and our duties to earthly rulers). We render to God what belongs to Him by right; namely, our praise and our thanksgiving. We obey His demand for truth and justice in all our doings, and that extends to our dealings with Him. And, so, what do we owe Him? 

We owe Him our first-fruits. “First-fruits” in the Bible are the first, indivisible portion of what we make or do that belongs by right to God, just as “tithes” are God's first tenth of whatever can be divided. Our lives in their totality, therefore, are “first-fruits,” because a life cannot be divided. Either life belongs to God, or it does not. In the same way, we pay to God the first, not the last, portion of our income or increase, not as a gift, but as a debt. If we neglect that, we are not giving Him what already belongs to Him, rather like a bank that refuses to return our deposits. 

We must make no mistake about it: God, our King, requires tribute from us, a return on what He has given us. God is the Lord of the visible, as well as of the invisible, because He made all things – visible and invisible. We owe God our visible tribute for his visible blessings, just as much as we owe Him our spiritual worship for his invisible grace. 

The Church in modern times has been weakened by the childish myth that we have more difficulties and responsibilities than did those who lived in previous generations. We have acted for a century as if we were the first people ever to have the burden of taxes, even though the Lord who taught us to pay first-fruits and tithes was Himself born in Bethlehem because his parents had gone there to pay a tax. We have acted as if money is the issue, and that money is always too scarce. Even billionaires worry that they could use “just a little more.” 

But what matters is truth and justice in all our dealings, even (and perhaps especially) in our dealings with God. We cannot seriously ask for blessings from a God Whom we disobey. We cannot convert the world to a Faith that we do not practice. We cannot help the poor and the weak if we fail to use the time and the money that God has already given to us for these purposes. 

As we sow, so also shall we reap (Galatians 6:7), and sowing means letting go of something, so that God can multiply it and make it great. And if this sounds too direct, consider the bluntness of God in the Holy Scriptures, where He says, “Will a man rob God? Yet ye have robbed me...in tithes and offerings.” (Malachi 3:8). 

Truth and justice take courage, and we can be courageous together because two thousand years ago the Son of God offered everything to save us and to build His Church. We continue to build that Church with Him when we do our bounden duty together and render to our Father in heaven the physical worship, which is our support for His Church, which is due to Him. 

But we ought also to remember that whether we render to Caesar or to God on the basis of our Lord's teaching, we are not doing something new, but we are only obeying that ancient commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.”

O God, forasmuch as without thee we are not able to please thee: mercifully grant that thy Holy Spirit may in all things direct and rule our hearts; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Ignatius of Antioch

St. Ignatius was the second Bishop of Antioch, and had been a disciple of the Apostle St. John. There is a tradition which says that he was the young child whom Christ put in the midst of his disciples and said, “Unless you become as this little child, you cannot inherit the Kingdom of God.” Ignatius was consecrated bishop about the year 69 by the Apostle Peter. He was a holy man who was deeply loved by the Christian faithful, he always made it his special care to defend “orthodoxy” (right teaching) and “orthopraxy” (right practice) among the early Christians.

In 107, during the reign of the brutal Emperor Trajan, St. Ignatius was sentenced to death because he refused to renounce the Christian faith. He was taken under guard to Rome where he was to be publicly executed by being devoured by wild beasts. During his journey from Antioch to Rome, he was taken through Asia Minor and Greece. As he traveled he wrote seven letters to encourage, instruct, and inspire the Christians in the communities along the way, and the texts of these letters survive to this day. They outline the orthodox Christian faith, and in them we find the term “catholic” being used to describe the whole Church. These letters connect us to the early Church and to the unbroken, clear teaching of the Apostles which was given to them directly by Jesus Christ.

St. Ignatius was not afraid of death, because he knew it had been defeated by Christ. He wrote to the disciples in Rome: "Permit me to imitate my suffering God ... I am God's wheat and I shall be ground by the teeth of beasts, that I may become the pure bread of Christ.”

Feed us, O Lord, with the living Bread and make us drink deep of the cup of salvation: that, following the teaching of thy Bishop Ignatius, and rejoicing in the faith with which he embraced the death of a Martyr, we may be nourished for that eternal life which he ever desired; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Margaret Mary Alacoque

St. Margaret Mary was born on July 22, 1647 in Burgundy, France, and was the fifth child of seven in her family. When she was eight years old, her father died suddenly, and her mother had to be away from home quite often, so Margaret Mary went away to attend school and came under the care of nuns. At the age of nine, she received her first Holy Communion. Right after that she wrote, "This Communion made all the small pleasures and amusements so repellent to me, that I could no longer take pleasure in any . . . just when I wanted to begin some game with my companions, I would always feel something drawing me, calling me to some quiet corner, giving me no peace till I had followed and then setting me to pray.” It was at that time that she became seriously ill, and she was bedridden with paralysis. For four years she suffered, but she prayed to the Blessed Virgin Mary for healing. The time stretched on, and she continued to pray, finding more and more comfort in receiving and adoring the Blessed Sacrament, as Christ made His presence known to her. At the age of fifteen, she was cured and was no longer bedridden.

Back at home with her family, Margaret Mary continued to grow in her spiritual life, and she experienced private visions of Christ, with an increasing sense of His overwhelming love. During this time her mother had been urging her to marry, but there was a developing vocation to religious life stirring within her.

In 1671, at the age of twenty-three, Margaret Mary entered the Convent of the Visitation Nuns, and it was there just two years later, when she was kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament, that she experienced a vision in which the Lord told her that He had a particular work for her to do. She later described what she saw in the vision, how our Lord’s Heart appeared to be on fire and surrounded by a crown of thorns. Our Lord told her that the flames represented His love for humanity, and the thorns represented man’s sinfulness and ingratitude. Jesus revealed to her that her mission was to establish the devotion to His Most Sacred Heart.

Over the next year and a half, she had three more visions. In those visions, Jesus explained to her the spiritual exercises that have become part of devotion to Christ’s Sacred Heart. St. Margaret Mary informed her Mother Superior about the visions, who did not know what to think about them. St. Margaret Mary was examined by priests and other experts, who tried to convince her that these experiences were illusions.

All of this led to another time of serious sickness, but her Superior promised that if Margaret Mary were healed, she herself would believe the visions were real. So Margaret Mary prayed and was healed, and her Mother Superior believed her. However, many others did not. Nonetheless, she received some encouragement from a priest who served as her spiritual director, and St. Margaret Mary was given the confidence she needed to encourage others to see in the Sacred Heart of Jesus the great symbol of His love for mankind. The devotion began to spread, first among the nuns in her community, and gradually it was accepted throughout the world.

On October 17, 1690, St. Margaret Mary was approaching death. As she received the last rites of the Church, her final words were, “I need nothing but God, and to lose myself in the heart of Jesus.”

O Lord Jesus Christ, who unto thy holy Virgin Margaret Mary Alacoque didst reveal the unsearchable riches of thy Sacred Heart: grant us, by her merits and example, to love thee in all things and above all things, and so find in thy loving Heart an everlasting habitation; who livest and reignest with the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Teresa of Jesus

St. Teresa was born in 1515, and she lived at an exciting time in history. Columbus had sailed to the new world only about twenty years before. Things were happening in the Church, and during her life, Martin Luther started the movement of protestants out of the Church.  In the midst of all this change and turmoil, Teresa developed her great spirituality which leads to God’s peace.

Teresa's father was honest and pious, but very strict. Teresa's mother loved romance novels but because her husband objected to what he considered to be trashy books, so she hid the books from him. This put Teresa in the middle -- especially since she liked the romances too. Her father told her never to lie but her mother told her not to tell her father. Later she said she was always afraid that no matter what she did she was going to do everything wrong. When she was five years old she convinced her older brother that they should, as she later wrote, "go off to the land of the Moors and beg them, out of love of God, to cut off our heads there." They got as far as the road from the city before an uncle found them and brought them back. After this incident she led a fairly ordinary life, though she was convinced that she was a horrible sinner. As a teenager, she cared only about boys and clothes and flirting and rebelling -- like other teenagers throughout the ages. When she was 16, her father decided she was out of control and sent her to a convent. At first she hated it but eventually she began to enjoy it -- partly because of her growing love for God, and partly because the convent was a lot less strict than her father.

Still, when the time came for her to choose between marriage and religious life, she had a tough time making the decision. She'd watched a difficult marriage ruin her mother. On the other hand being a nun didn't seem like much fun. When she finally chose religious life, she did so because she thought that it was the only safe place for someone as prone to sin as she was.

Once installed at the Carmelite convent permanently, she started to learn and practice mental prayer. Teresa prayed this way off and on for eighteen years without feeling that she was getting results. Part of the reason for her trouble was that the convent wasn’t really as it should have been. Many women who had no place else to go wound up at the convent, whether they had vocations or not. They were encouraged to stay away from the convents for long period of time to cut down on expenses. Nuns would arrange their veils attractively and wear jewelry. Prestige depended not on piety but on money. There was a steady stream of visitors in the parlor and parties that included young men. Everyone liked Teresa and she liked to be liked. She found it too easy to slip into a worldly life and ignore God. For years she hardly prayed at all because she thought it showed humility. She thought as a wicked sinner she didn't deserve to get favors from God.

When she was 41, a priest convinced her to go back to her prayer, but she still found it difficult. As she started to pray again, God gave her an increasingly deep spirituality.

At the age of 43, she became determined to found a new convent that went back to the basics of a contemplative order: a simple life of poverty devoted to prayer. There was great resistance to this – everybody liked things the way they’d been. But she was determined, and going against all the resistance, she persevered. She died on October 4 at the age of 67, having brought about the Order of Discalced Carmelites. In 1970 she was declared a Doctor of the Church for her writing and teaching on prayer.

Merciful God, who by thy Spirit didst raise up thy servant Saint Teresa of Jesus to reveal to thy Church the way of perfection: grant that her teaching may awaken in us a longing for holiness until, assisted by her intercession, we attain to the perfect union of love in Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Callistus, Pope and Martyr

Imagine if what anybody knew about you was information that came from someone who really didn’t like you at all. And imagine if there was the added difficulty that the person who didn’t like you was also a saint! That’s the situation with St. Callistus who lived at the end of the 2nd century and into the 3rd century.  Most of the information about him comes from his enemy St. Hippolytus, who at first was kind of a troublemaker in the early Church, but who later, just like St. Callistus, became a martyr for the Faith.

Callistus was a slave in the imperial Roman household. He was an educated slave, and because of his financial talent, he was put in charge of a bank by his master. Unfortunately, because he made some loans to people who didn’t pay them back, he lost almost all the money that had been deposited. Callistus panicked, and he ran away. Of course, he was eventually caught and was put in jail. After being imprisoned for a while, his master released him and told him to do everything he could to recover the money. Apparently Callistus got a little too carried away, and eventually he was arrested again because he had started a fight in a local synagogue when he went after someone there who hadn’t paid back a loan. This time he was condemned to work in the mines of Sardinia, which usually was a death sentence because of the horrible conditions there. But through the intervention of an influential person who had pity on him, he even managed to be released from the terrible life in the Sardinian mines. So far, it doesn’t sound much like the life of a saint, does it?

After he won his freedom, he was put in charge of the place where Christians buried their departed loved ones – this cemetery was called a catacomb, and in fact this cemetery was the first land actually owned by the Church, and it still exists as the Catacomb of St. Callistus. He was so faithful in this work that the pope ordained him as a deacon, and Callistus became his trusted friend and adviser.

Callistus had such a changed life and had become so faithful that he was himself elected pope, and it was then that the rivalry between Callistus and Hippolytus became so bitter – in fact, Hippolytus himself wanted to be the pope because he didn’t agree with many of the decisions made by Callistus. This rivalry was healed eventually, however, and Hippolytus was eventually martyred, and these two former enemies are now saints together in heaven. St. Callistus was martyred in Rome during one of the persecutions of the Church in the 3rd century.

O God, who didst raise up Pope Saint Callistus to serve the Church and attend devoutly to Christ’s faithful departed: strengthen us, we pray, by his witness to the faith; so that, rescued from the slavery of corruption, we may merit an incorruptible inheritance; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Edward, King and Confessor

Born about the year 1003, St. Edward was the last Saxon king to rule for any meaningful length of time in England. The Saxons were a Germanic people who had moved into Britain around the 5th century and took over the rule of the people. He is called "Edward the Confessor," which distinguishes him from another King of England, who was his grandfather, St. Edward the Martyr (c. 962-979).

Edward was the son of a very difficult father, known as King Ethelred the Unready. This gives us a hint about Ethelred's temperament – “unready” does not mean that he was unprepared, but rather it means that he was stubborn and willful. "Rede" means “advice” or “counsel,” so “un-rede” indicates that Ethelred was unwilling to take anyone’s advice or counsel.

Ethelred was followed in quick succession by several Danish kings of England, and during that time young Edward and his mother took refuge in Normandy, but the last Danish king decided to name Edward as his successor, and he was crowned in 1042. Some historians consider him to have been a weak king, but that would be to misunderstand him. Edward took his Catholic faith seriously. He always sought to settle things peacefully, and he was concerned for the religious practice of his people. He provided priests and churches throughout his kingdom. His holy example and solid leadership meant that there were more than twenty years of peace and prosperity, with freedom from foreign domination, at a time when powerful neighbors might well have dominated a less capable ruler. He himself was very faithful in public and private worship. He was generous to the poor, and he made himself accessible to his people whenever they had some grievance that needed to be settled.

He had wanted to make a pilgrimage to Rome, but his advisors told him that it would not be good for him to be gone so long out of the country. Accordingly, he spent his pilgrimage money instead on the relief of the poor and the building of Westminster Abbey, which stands today (rebuilt in the thirteenth century) as one of the great churches of England, burial place of her kings and of others who have been deemed worthy of special honor.

He died on 5 January 1066, he and his wife Edith having had no children, and he was buried in the great abbey church which he had founded.

O God, who hast crowned thy blessed Confessor King Edward with eternal glory: grant that we who venerate him on earth, may be found worthy to reign with him in heaven; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Wilfrid, Bishop and Confessor

St. Wilfrid was born in Northumberland in 634. We know something of his life from the writings of the Venerable Bede in the early eighth century. Wilfrid was born into a wealthy Christian family. His mother died when he was thirteen and he was sent to Lindisfarne to be educated under the Celtic St Aidan. Queen Enflaed of Northumbria was his patron. So, the young Wilfrid had a very good education, impressive connections and, having chosen a religious career, he was sent off to Rome to continue his education. He returned to England in 658 and settled with the Benedictine monks in Ripon Abbey.

It wasn’t long before Wilfrid was caught up in a power struggle in the church between those who favoured the new Roman practices and ideas brought by Augustine rather than some of the older Celtic traditions. There was something of a north-south divide, with the Roman practice centred at Canterbury and the Celtic tradition in the north. There were great arguments about the timing of Easter and whether monks should shave a tonsure, for example. Wilfrid was instrumental in a victory for the Roman view at the Conference of Whitby in 664. Shortly afterwards, he was appointed Bishop of York.

In the following years Wilfrid built magnificent stone churches at Hexham, Ripon and York. However, he was soon at the centre of conflict again, having fallen out with Theodore, Archbishop of Canterbury, over plans to divide York diocese into two. Wilfrid had to leave York for a while between the years 681 and 686 and it was during this time that he came to the Meon Valley to evangelise the Jutes and Saxons who had recently settled in the area. Wilfrid lived at an extraordinary time for the church. He encountered great controversy, accumulated huge landholdings, befriended kings and rulers across Europe and travelled to Rome three times on horseback and on foot. He suffered shipwreck and was nearly murdered several times – once by natives off the coast of Sussex. He had been a bishop for forty-five years and a pillar of the church during one of the most turbulent periods of its history as it sought to establish itself in a pagan land. Wilfrid died on 12th October 709 at the Minster church of St Andrew’s, Oundle.

St. Wilfrid is often shown holding fishing nets. According to St. Bede, the men of South West Sussex and the Meon Valley were “ignorant of the name and faith of God”. Just before Wilfrid’s arrival there had been the most terrible famine and the distress was so acute that often "forty or fifty, being spent with want, would go together to some cliff, or to the seashore, and there, hand-in-hand, miserably perish by the fall or be swallowed by the waves."

Although there were fish enough to eat in the rivers and sea, the poor country folk did not know how to catch them and could only fish for eels. Wilfrid borrowed these nets and, casting them into the sea, "by the blessing of God immediately took three hundred fishes of different kinds, which they divided into three parts, giving a hundred to the poor, a hundred to those who had lent them the nets and keeping a hundred for their own use. By this act of kindness the Bishop gained the affections of them all and they began more readily, at his preaching, to hope for heavenly goods; seeing that, by his help, they had received those which are temporal."

And so, Wilfrid followed the teaching of Christ himself, as he first fed the people of the Meon Valley and then went on to tell them all about God’s love and grace.

Almighty God, who didst call our forebears to the light of the Gospel by the preaching of thy servant Wilfrid: grant us, who keep his life and labour in remembrance, to glorify thy Name by following the example of his zeal and perseverance; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

The Marriage Feast

At that time: Again Jesus spoke to the chief priests and elders of the people in parables, saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a marriage feast for his son, and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the marriage feast; but they would not come. Again he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, Behold, I have made ready my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves are killed, and everything is ready; come to the marriage feast.’ But they made light of it and went off, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them. The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city. Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the thoroughfares, and invite to the marriage feast as many as you find.’ And those servants went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good; so the wedding hall was filled with guests. But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment; and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and cast him into the outer darkness; there men will weep and gnash their teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.

- St. Matthew 22:1-14

A common picture used in the Scriptures to describe our relationship with God, and the eternal life He promises us, is the image of the feast – eating and drinking in the presence of God. In this portion of the Gospel He describes heaven as being like a wedding party thrown by a king. We hear a similar illustration in the Old Testament, when it refers to a great feast of meats and wines.

When the Bible speaks of a feast, it’s not just a matter of sitting down to eat. It’s always food combined with fellowship, eating in the company of your fellow believers, and in the company of God. The message is this: that God is hosting a feast, and at the center of the banquet is His Son, the Lamb who was slain, but who lives.

In scriptural terms, the invitations to God’s feast were sent long ago – they were engraved by his own hand, and they were addressed by name to Abraham, to Isaac, to Jacob, to all God's people. God's invitation to feast with him in His Kingdom was written on stone at Mount Sinai. It was written when He said to His chosen people Israel: "I will be your God, and you will be my people," and He extended the invitation over and over again through His prophets.

Israel was a people bound and bidden by God's promises, ancient promises that reached back through the centuries to that first Promise which God spoke after the Fall of our first parents. Actually, it was a promise to Satan, "I will put enmity between you and the woman..." And in that statement, God promised a Saviour, a Deliverer, One who would defeat death and the devil, and who would restore the lost relationship between God and His people.

God made His children a people of His promise. He promised Abraham a homeland and descendants as numerous as grains of sand on the seashore. He repeated His promise to Isaac and to Jacob. Within the adversity of slavery, and in a new way, God conceived His people in Egypt and gave them another birth through the waters of the Red Sea. He raised them in the wilderness and brought them to the promised land of Canaan where they grew and prospered. They were His chosen people - chosen for the great purpose of bringing forth His Son for the salvation of the whole world.

Time after time, God recalled His promises: “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make a feast for all peoples," Isaiah tells us. God promised a feast of salvation, an eating and drinking that would take away death forever. The Passover lamb in Egypt was a foretaste of the feast to come, which would be God and man in communion, eating and drinking together.

In Christ, God had (in a mystical way) come to eat and drink with His people. In fact, actual eating and drinking were so much the mark of Christ’s ministry that His detractors said He was “a glutton and a drunkard.” He shared meals with Pharisees and prostitutes and tax collectors. He ate with the religious and with the nonreligious. He fed five thousand people in the wilderness, and on another occasion four thousand. All that points to the fact that Jesus came to be our Bread, our life-giving Food. He said very plainly, "I am the Bread of Life. He who comes to me shall not hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst."

In the parable the king was a gracious host. His table was rich. No expense was spared in preparing this feast for his son's wedding day. As Isaiah would have described it: "a feast of fat things full of marrow, with wine on the lees, well refined.” Who could say "no" to a meal like that?

According to the parable, many of the invited guests did say "no." Some were indifferent to the invitation. Others were too busy. One went to work on his farm; one went off to take care of his business. And others were even hostile in their rejection. They went so far as to kill the king's servants for even bothering them with the invitation.

Why did Jesus tell this parable? Because there are many today who still say "no" to God's “feast of fat things.” The time which should be for worship, the time that should be for God, they fill up with their own work, or with their own idea of leisure. Everyone has his excuse, but those excuses ring hollow when compared with the richness of what God offers. Think for a minute about how people react when there when a particular food that promises some fabulous health benefit - oat bran, or olive oil, or wheat grass, or soy protein - once the word gets out, the stores can't keep it on the shelves. Imagine if there was a food that could cure cancer, or heart disease. And imagine if there was a food and drink that promised to cure death.

There is such a food and drink. Jesus said, "He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day." If people took Christ at His word about that, the crowds would be lined up beyond one’s sight.

In the parable the king wants his banquet hall to be full. So he sends his servants into the town to invite everyone, "as many as you find,” he says, “the good and the bad." When the respectable refuse, he invites the disreputable and the despised. And this part of the parable is a picture of exactly what God did. When the religious people of Israel rejected Christ, then God went to the Gentiles. The king sent his servants into the highways and byways, into the alleyways and into the darkened doorways – and soon there was no one who wasn’t invited to the son's wedding feast. And that's the point of the parable. When God gives a feast, there isn't a single person who is left off the guest list – just as when Jesus died on the cross for us, no one was left out of the benefits of His death. It’s only indifference to that death, it’s only a stubborn refusal to be fed, that leaves people out of the feast - and then it's entirely their own fault. God's Will is to fill His banquet hall with guests. If they wind up weeping and gnashing their teeth in hell, it's because they have acted entirely against God's desire to save them. God has hosted a banquet, and he's invited the whole world.

And then, what seems to be an odd part of story. When the king entered the hall packed with guests, he saw a man who wasn’t properly dressed for the occasion. This is where the parable can get difficult to understand... after all, remember that the king’s servants had been pulling people off the streets to come to this party. How could they be expected to have all the right clothes?

Let’s suppose for a moment that the king decided that he wanted a well-dressed crowd at his son's wedding. And suppose for a moment that this wedding banquet hall was rather like those restaurants that have coats and ties on hand for patrons who arrive without proper dress. Imagine that the king started handing out beautifully tailored suits and the finest dresses at the door to everyone who came to the party, but this one man says “No, never mind. I’ll keep my own clothes, thanks.” Now we can understand the king’s disgust when he sees him lurking at the corner table, still wearing a dirty t-shirt and ripped jeans.

This is what it’ll be like if we try appearing before God clothed in the filthy rags of our own attempts at righteousness, boasting of our own "good works,” and bragging about all the good things we've done for God all our lives.

God supplies the clothing. He covers us with the perfection of His Son. St. Paul teaches us: "For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ." God clothes us with Christ in our baptism. He wraps us in His righteousness. He covers us with His perfection. Christ is our wedding garment, and his seamless and spotless robe is our covering. Christ’s death is ours, and Christ’s life is ours. His perfect keeping of the Law is ours. God gives it all to us for free. We’ve put on Christ in our Baptism, and that’s better than any designer clothes could ever be. So we dare not come to the Lord's banquet dressed in anything less than Christ. We come to the feast God's way, or no way at all.

And so that brings us to the end of the parable. It’s a parable of God's kingly love – the King who keeps His promises. It’s a parable of His lavish love – a love which prepares a rich feast of salvation. It’s a parable of God lovingly looking for us, with a love that goes into the highways and alleyways, inviting the good and the bad to come and be fed. It’s a parable of God’s singularly holy love – a love that doesn’t look upon our sin, but upon Christ with whom we are clothed.

At the end of the parable, everyone was invited to the party, but only those gathered from the streets ended up in the king's banquet hall. Salvation was won for everybody by Christ’s dying and rising – everyone was invited -- but it’s only some who take him up on the invitation to be clothed and fed by Christ.

"Many are called but few are chosen." That isn't an explanation; it's an observation. Another way of saying it is: “everyone is invited, but not everyone winds up at the table.” God’s feast of salvation is for everyone, but He won’t force anyone to eat and drink. If we miss out on the banquet and go hungry, we have only ourselves to blame.

Jesus Christ died for us, and He rose for us, and He gives us the spiritual clothing we need for the banquet, where He feeds us with His body and blood in His Church. That’s the banquet hall to which we’ve been invited. We’re invited to live our lives as honoured guests – and indeed, as members of the household. All we need to do is to respond to the invitation, and our place at the feast will be secure.

Lord, we beseech thee, grant thy people grace to withstand the temptations of the world, the flesh, and the devil: and with pure hearts and minds to follow thee the only God; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Pictured: "The Peasant Wedding" by Pieter Bruegel the Elder, 1567

St. John Henry Newman

John Henry Newman, the 19th century's most important English-speaking Catholic theologian, spent the first half of his life as an Anglican and the second half as a Roman Catholic. He was a priest, popular preacher, writer and eminent theologian in both Churches.

Born in London, England, he studied at Oxford's Trinity College, was a tutor at Oriel College and for 17 years was the Anglican vicar of the university church, St. Mary the Virgin.

After 1833, Newman was a prominent member of the Oxford Movement, which emphasized the links which the Church today must have with the Church at the beginning.

His study and research eventually convinced John Henry Newman that the Roman Catholic Church was indeed in continuity with the Church that Jesus established. He stopped his work in Oxford and retired to Littlemore. It was there, on October 9, 1845, he was received into full communion as a Catholic. Two years later he was ordained a Catholic priest in Rome and joined the Congregation of the Oratory, founded three centuries earlier by St. Philip Neri. Returning to England, Newman founded Oratory houses in Birmingham and London and for seven years served as rector of the Catholic University of Ireland.

Newman eventually wrote 40 books and 21,000 letters that survive. Most famous are his book-length Essay on the Development of Christian Doctrine, On Consulting the Faithful in Matters of Doctrine, Apologia Pro Vita Sua (his spiritual autobiography up to 1864) and Essay on the Grammar of Assent.

When Newman was named a cardinal in 1879, he took as his motto "Cor ad cor loquitur" (Heart speaks to heart). He was buried in Rednal (near Birmingham) 11 years later. After his grave was exhumed in 2008, a new tomb was prepared at the Oratory church in Birmingham. but it was found that his remains had returned to the earth completely.

Three years after Newman died, a Newman Club for Catholic students began at the University of Pittsburgh. In time, his name was linked to ministry centers at many public and private colleges and universities in the United States.

Pope Benedict XVI beatified Newman on September 19, 2010, at Crofton Park (near Birmingham). The pope noted Newman's emphasis on the vital place of revealed religion in civilized society but also praised his pastoral zeal for the sick, the poor, the bereaved and those in prison.  His canonization took place on October 13, 2019.

From his writings:

"God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it if I do but keep His commandments. Therefore, I will trust Him, whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him, in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him. If I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about."

O God, who didst bestow upon thy Priest Saint John Henry Newman, the grace to follow thy kindly light and find peace in thy Church: graciously grant that, through his intercession and example, we may be led out of shadows and images into the fulness of thy truth; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Denis and his Companions

St. Dionysius (Denis, as he is known to us) was born someplace in Italy, sometime during the 3rd century. In fact, for years he was confused with another Dionysius, the Aereopagite who was converted when St. Paul visited Athens. As little as we know about St. Denis, it's evident that he had become known for living a virtuous and faithful life, because he was chosen by Pope Fabian (236-250) to be one of the missionary bishops to Gaul (modern-day France). It was a difficult mission. The Church of Gaul had suffered terribly under the persecution of the Emperor Decius, and these men were sent to do all they could to bring the Catholic faith to the people there. Denis was sent to the area of present-day Paris, along with his companions, the priest Rusticus and the deacon Eleutherius. When they arrived, they settled on an island in the Seine.

It was on this island that Denis built a church, and he and his clergy provided regular worship, with the Daily Offices and the Mass. He was a very powerful preacher, and there were many conversions to the faith. A great number of these converts came from local pagan religions, and when the pagan priests saw so many of their people being baptised, they started to make plans to get rid of the bishop Denis, along with his priest and deacon. They carried out their plan by going to the local Roman governor, Sisinnius, to convince him that what Denis was teaching was actually stirring up the people against the Roman Empire. Sisinnius believed what these pagan priests told him, so he had Denis and his companions arrested. They were told to stop preaching, or they would pay with their lives. Denis and his companions had no intention of stopping, so they were tortured horribly. First, they were scourged and stretched on the rack; finally they were tortured with fire and then thrown to wild beasts. Before they were actually killed by the wild animals, they were dragged away and beheaded, and their bodies thrown into the river. The bodies of the martyrs were retrieved by a holy Christian woman named Catulla. She buried them, and erected a small shrine to mark the graves. Over the years the people came to the site, asking for God's blessings through the intercessions of the three martyrs. Eventually this shrine was expanded and made more beautiful, and today it is a great basilica, one of the most famous churches in Europe. But it still marks the simple graves of these three brave men, who died willingly because of their love for the Lord Jesus Christ.

O God, who didst strengthen blessed Denis, thy Martyr and Bishop, with the virtue of constancy in his suffering, and didst vouchsafe to join unto him Rusticus and Eleutherius, for the preaching of thy glory to the heathen: grant us, we beseech thee, by their example, to despise the prosperity of this world, and to fear none of its adversities; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Our Lady of the Holy Rosary

The commemoration of Our Lady of the Rosary, also known as Our Lady of Victory, recalls an historic event which took place on October 7, 1571.

For some time the Muslims had attempted to conquer Europe, not only for political reasons, but also in an attempt to destroy the Church and impose Islam throughout the known world.  On that clear October morning a huge gathering of ships appeared in the Mediterranean Sea, near the Greek port of Lepanto - 280 Turkish ships, and 212 Christian ships. 

For years the Muslims had been raiding Christian areas around the Mediterranean and had carried off thousands of Christians into slavery. In fact, all of the ships gathered on that morning were powered by rowers – and the Muslim ships had nearly 15,000 Christian slaves in chains, being forced to pull the oars to guide the ships into battle. The Catholic fleet was under the command of Don Juan of Austria, but the Catholic fleet was at a great disadvantage in its power and military ability. This was a battle that would decide the fate of the world – either the Turks would be victorious and the Church destroyed, or the Catholics would be victorious and would put down the Muslim threat.

Pope St. Pius V knew the importance of victory. He called upon all of Europe to pray the rosary, asking for the intercession of Our Lady, that God would grant a Catholic victory. Although it seemed hopeless, the people prayed. Don Juan guided his battleships into the middle of the Turkish fleet; meanwhile, many of the Christian slaves had managed to escape their chains and poured out of the holds of the Muslim ships, attacking the Turks and swinging their chains, throwing the Muslims overboard. The combination of the attack by the Catholic fleet and the uprising of the Christian slaves meant that there was a great victory by the Catholics fleet over the mighty Turkish fleet.

We know today that this victory was decisive. It prevented the Islamic invasion of Europe at that time, and it showed the Hand of God working through Our Lady. At the hour of victory, St. Pope Pius V, who was hundreds of miles away in his Papal residence, is said to have gotten up from a meeting, went over to a window, and through supernatural knowledge exclaimed, "The Christian fleet is victorious!" and he wept tears of thanksgiving to God.

This day has been remembered throughout the Church, first as Our Lady of Victory, and then as Our Lady of the Holy Rosary – remembering the victory God granted, and also remembering the means by which that victory was achieved – that it was an intervention by God through the prayers offered by praying the Rosary... something we might consider in our own generation.

O God, whose Only Begotten Son by his life, death, and Resurrection, hath purchased for us the rewards of eternal salvation: grant, we beseech thee; that meditating upon the mysteries of the Rosary, our devotion may bud forth as the rose in honour of the Blessed Virgin Mary; and that we may so follow the pattern of their teaching, that we may finally be made partakers of thy heavenly promises; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Bruno, Priest and Founder

St. Bruno founded a religious order, the Carthusians, which is the most demanding, the most strict and the most difficult in which to live – and yet many young men choose it as a way of making a life-long sacrifice for the glory of God.

Born in Cologne, Germany, St. Bruno became a famous teacher at Rheims and an important official the archdiocese. It was a time when many clergy were living lives that were incompatible with their calling, and when Pope Gregory VII brought about reforms, Bruno completely supported it. In fact, he took part in getting his own scandalous archbishop removed from office – of course, the archbishop had his friends, and they made life very difficult for Bruno.

After all this, St. Bruno had the dream of living in solitude and prayer, and persuaded a few friends to join him in a hermitage, and eventually was given some land which was to become famous for his foundation "in the Chartreuse" which described the color of the countryside (yellowish green, and from which comes the word “Carthusian”). The climate, desert, mountainous terrain and inaccessibility guaranteed silence, poverty and small numbers.

Bruno and his friends built an oratory with small individual cells at a distance from each other. They met for Matins and Vespers each day, and spent the rest of the time in solitude, eating together only on great feasts. Their chief work was copying manuscripts.

The pope, hearing of Bruno's holiness, called for his assistance in Rome. When the pope had to flee Rome, Bruno pulled up stakes again, and spent his last years (after refusing becoming a bishop) in the wilderness of Calabria.

He was never formally canonized, because the Carthusians avoided all occasions of publicity. Pope Clement extended his feast to the whole Church in 1674.

Almighty and everlasting God, who dost prepare mansions in heaven for them that forsake the world: we humbly entreat thy boundless mercy; that at the intercession of blessed Bruno, thy Confessor, we may be faithful to vows that we have made, and may obtain, to our eternal salvation, the rewards which thou hast promised to them that persevere unto the end; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos

The priestly zeal of Francis Xavier Seelos took him to many places, but always with the same purpose; namely, to help people know the great love and compassion of God. And not only did he preach, but he put his words into practice, even to the point of risking his own life in caring for the sick and the dying.

Francis Xavier Seelos was born in southern Bavaria in the year 1819. He studied philosophy and theology in Munich as part of his preparation for the priesthood, but while still a student he became fascinated with the missionary work of the Redemptorists, which they were carrying out amongst the German-speaking immigrants in the United States. He arrived in America in 1843 and was ordained in the Redemptorist Church of St. James in Baltimore at the end of 1844. He was assigned for six years to the parish of St. Philomena in Pittsburgh, where he served as an assistant to St. John Neumann, who would become one of our great missionary bishops.

During the several years he was engaged in parish ministry throughout the state of Maryland, Fr. Seelos also had the responsibility of training Redemptorist students for the priesthood. In fact, during this time the Civil War broke out, and he went went to Washington, D.C. to appeal to President Lincoln that his students not be drafted for military service, although eventually some were.

For several years Blessed Francis Xavier Seelos preached in English and in German throughout the Midwest and in the Mid-Atlantic states. Eventually he was assigned to St. Mary of the Assumption Church in New Orleans, where he served faithfully as pastor. In 1867 he died of yellow fever, being only forty-eight years old, having contracted the disease while visiting the sick in his parish. He was described as a priest with a constant smile and a generous heart. He was beatified in 2000, and his cause for canonization is moving forward.

O God, who makest us glad with the yearly feast of blessed Francis Xavier Seelos, thy Priest and Confessor: mercifully grant that, as we now observe his heavenly birthday; so we may follow him in all virtuous and godly living; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity

“My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He digged it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; and he looked for it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes.” 

- Isaiah 5:1, 2

The Holy Scriptures – Old and New Testaments together – give us an account of the relationship between God and His people. We read in the Bible of God’s great love for His children, and we read of the rebellious spirit which causes punishment to come upon them from time to time. It’s the story of our salvation, it’s the story of a people seeking God, trying to love Him, sometimes succeeding, and sometimes failing.

The first reading is a passage from Isaiah’s prophecy (Is. 5:1-7) which had a particularly important place in the religious history of Israel. Isaiah tells a story which is really a tragedy – “My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill...” And so begins the story of the great love which God has for His people, and it sums up the whole drama of the relationship between God and His children. Isaiah is painting a picture using this image of a vineyard planted with choice vines. A watchtower was built in the midst of it. A wine vat was put in it. And then the owner looked for it to yield a good harvest – everything was in place for it to produce good grapes, sweet, and abundant. But all He got from it was wild grapes – small, sour, an unusable crop.

The meaning of Isaiah’s story is so clear. God had chosen a certain people to be the guardians of His promises, and this people was chosen to make God known to the whole world. God intended the Israelite nation to be representatives of His love and tenderness. But rather than producing the good fruits of faithfulness and peace, instead they produced sour fruit – unfaithfulness, jealousy, violence, even hatred. The end result would be their own destruction. The hedge surrounding them would be removed. The walls would be broken down and trampled. It would become a wasteland. It would be choked with weeds, and even the rain would not come upon it any more. This is how Isaiah told the story, through the inspiration of God Himself, as a warning to Israel.

And then, in the Gospel (St. Matthew 21:33-43), we hear the Incarnate God, our Lord Jesus Christ, telling a story – a parable – and what’s it about? A vineyard. And the owner who planted it. He put a hedge around it. He dug a winepress, he built a tower. This story – this image – obviously is important to God, since He tells the story twice. In fact, when our Lord told this already-familiar story to the chief priests and the elders of the Jews, they knew to what He was referring immediately. They knew He was telling them that they were being unfaithful to God. Just as the tenants wanted to make the vineyard into their own, disregarding the fact that it already had an owner, our Lord was telling the Jewish leaders that they were using the law and prophets, not to give glory to God, but rather to bolster their own personal authority, and so were hiding God’s truth and love from others.

And Jesus was being prophetic here. Just as happened in His parable, the chief priests had not only rejected the message of the prophets in the past, but they would also kill the Son – namely, Jesus Himself. And His warning to them was forthright. “The kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a nation producing the fruits of it.”

One of the things we know about Christ’s parables is that they have a universal application. Although He was speaking to the chief priests and elders of Israel, His message is for us, too. And it’s a serious message. Namely, that we are to listen to God’s truth as it comes to us through those who are appointed to bring it – and the source of the truth is Jesus Christ Himself. We are to use what our Lord has revealed to us to produce the fruits of the vineyard. We’re to use it to build up God’s kingdom, and to spread the good news of His love and salvation to the whole world.

This was what Israel had been chosen to do, and now we – as the New Israel – have been chosen for the same task. We are to devote our minds and our wills and our energy to the building up of God’s kingdom, and not looking for any return for ourselves. The job we have is pretty simple in its outline, but it’s not easy. Too often we fall into a selfish practice of our faith: “God, I want...God, I need...God please do this for me...” It’s an ancient temptation. We see it through the prophecies of Isaiah and the other great prophets; we see it in the chief priests and elders of the Jews to whom our Lord was speaking. It’s the temptation to try a fashion the Kingdom of God as our own personal domain, focusing our attention on what we want, on what we feel is important. We sometimes try, like the unworthy tenants in today’s Gospel, to take the Lord’s vineyard for ourselves, serving ourselves under the guise of serving the truth.

How do we become faithful tenants of God’s vineyard? St. Paul gives us some guidance in his epistle to the Philippians (4:6-9). “Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things...” We should think: are those the ingredients in my conversations? Do people read those things in my own heart? And also he tells us, “in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made know to God.” This is the “bottom line” – that we have to seek out those things that are of God, and those things only, and act upon them, making them the basis of our prayer to God. There’s no room for selfishness in God’s kingdom. There’s no room for personal gain in God’s kingdom. There’s no room for “picking and choosing” in God’s kingdom. There’s but one thing for us to do: to put ourselves in God’s care, and His care alone, so that He can plant His kingdom in us. And when we allow God to plant His Word in us – with all of the grace which flows from the Sacraments and from our life of prayer – He’ll have a great harvest. It’ll be a harvest of salvation for the world, the harvest of a people who want to serve God and His truth by living in accordance with His Will. This is the harvest that can fix broken lives, and that can heal broken families, and that can renew broken hearts.

Are things not as we hoped they would be in our own lives? The answer to that is for us to live in sync with God’s revealed truth. This is the paradox of the Gospel: that we’re free to be all that we should be, only when we’re obedient to God. It’s in obedience that we find freedom. We can have new life only insofar as our old lives of selfishness and self-centeredness are put aside. We’re not the owners of this vineyard; we are tenants. One of the fundamental spiritual mistakes we make is to think that we own the world. We are tenants, entrusted with the responsibility of caring for it, but everything that we have, everything we are, is on loan, and if we put ourselves at the center, we put our tenancy in jeopardy. So this is the great question for us today: "how am I using the gifts that God gave me for God's purposes? My money? My time? My talents? My creativity? My relationships?" It all has to be for God.

So may we unite ourselves so completely with Christ that His death will bring us life, and that the creatures of bread and wine, transubstantiated at the Mass, might make us into a new creation; namely, men and women who desire only to love and serve the Lord.

Lord, we pray thee that thy grace may always precede and follow us: and make us continually to be given to all good works; through Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

St. Francis of Assisi

St. Francis of Assisi was baptized with the name Giovanni (John), but his father, who was a cloth merchant and who had lots of business in France, called him Francis. That's the name that stuck, although it's really a nickname. Francis was born in 1182 in the town of Assisi, and because his father was rather successful, Francis was raised with a love of fine clothes and good times. He led the other young men of the town in enjoying good food and drink, singing, and dancing.

When Francis was 20, he was taken prisoner in a war between Assisi and Perugia. For the year he was a prisoner, during which time he was very sick, he had some religious experiences which began to change him. After his release, he was praying in the decrepit little chapel of S. Damiano outside Assisi, and he heard a voice from the crucifix telling him, "Francis, repair my house, which is falling in ruins." He took the words literally, and he went quickly back to the city, sold his horse and some cloth from his father's shop, and came back to give some of the money to the priest at S. Damiano, and distributed some of it to the poor. Francis also, with his own hands, worked on repairing the little church.

His father was furious at Francis' squandering money on churches and beggars, and hauled him before the bishop to bring him to his senses. As he stood before the bishop, Francis calmly took off all his clothes, gave them to his father (the astonished bishop quickly covered Francis with a cloak), and said that he was now recognizing only his Father in heaven, not his father on earth. His life from this time on was lived without money or family ties.

The 13th century was also a time when the Christian religion was taken very much for granted, and Francis felt the need to return to the original spirit of Christ. This meant living in poverty, and it also meant showing Christ's love to other people. A number of the young men of Assisi, attracted by Francis' example, joined him in his new way of life. In 1209 Francis and his companions went to Rome, where they presented their ideas to Pope Innocent III and received his approval.

They found themselves influencing more and more people, including a young lady named Clare, whom Francis helped to enter a monastery of nuns, and who later began the "second order" of Franciscans, the order for women. Francis travelled to the Holy Land. He also went to Rome in 1223 to present the rule of his order to the Pope, who approved it wholeheartedly. Francis returned to Assisi and began to spend more and more time alone in prayer, leaving the decisions about his organization to others.

While he was praying on Mt. Alvernia in 1224, he had a vision of an angelic figure, and when the vision disappeared Francis felt the wounds of Christ in his hands, side, and feet. He was careful not to show the stigmata to others, but several close friends reported after his death that Francis had suffered in his body as Christ had suffered on the cross. His last 2 years were lived in almost constant pain and near-blindness. He died in 1226, and 2 years later he was canonized.

O God, who dost ever delight to reveal thyself to the childlike and lowly of heart: grant that, following the example of blessed Francis, and aided by his prayers; we may count the wisdom of this world as foolishness and know only Jesus Christ and him crucified; who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end. Amen.