St. Francis’ Ministry

I know, I know, we’ve been in Assisi since Saturday and postponed our trip to the Basilica until today.  But it was recommended that we stay away on the weekend — Advent is a big draw for the guy who invented the creche — and the past few days we’ve been in Gubbio and Perugia, so this was the first opportunity.

I should also add that we’ve been spreading out our sightseeing – Frank does remarkably well, but not uphill — and in Umbria, everything seems to be uphill in both directions.  As for me, I’ve been doing all the driving, which is fine, but parking can be, umm, difficult. And it’s not like there is anyplace to pull over and figure it out, if you know what I mean.

Frank and I were in Assisi for about 2 hours about 20 years ago.  All we remember is the big (!) piazza and incredible beauty of the upper church.  But this time we wandered through the lower church and visited St. Francis’ grave and sort of took in the atmosphere.  Of which there is plenty, especially because a service was going on in one of the chapels in the lower church, so appropriate music was ongoing.

The upper church had many pilgrims – more of the monastic sort than the badly dressed sort, thank goodness.  The damage to the frescoes from the mid-90s earthquake is now part of the Basilica’s history; I at least couldn’t tell that damage from the damage of, you know, the past  800 years.

But one has to wonder what St Francis would have thought of such a grand edifice.

On the plazas in front of both upper and lower basilicas were life sized creches.  This is extremely appropriate, since St. Francis is credited with the first creche.  No Christmas trees or other accoutrement.  Quite correct, I thought.

We tried to visit his place of death – it’s a small chapel, but a huge (huge! 5th largest church in the world, according to the guidebook) Baroque cathedral has been built over it.  But we got there during the lunch break, so will have to reschedule.  Instead, we went to San Damiano,  the small church outside Assisi town walls where St. Francis’ ministry began.  This is where the crucifix spoke to him and told him to rebuild the church.  St. Francis took the words literally, and rebuilt San Damiano, annoying his father in the process – the father could think of better things to do with the family money than renovating churches because crucifixes were talking.

Later, of course, St. Francis realized that the order was metaphorical, and that what needed rebuilding was a church that had gotten too grand and powerful (like the aforementioned basilica?). Anyway, San Damiano remained close to his heart and later, he installed St Claire and the Poor Claires here.  This is also the place where Francis wrote “Canticle of the Sun.” It’s a small place, in a grove of olive trees, and quiet – quiet -quiet except, one presumes, the birds and a few furry friends.

I liked it very much.