FRANCIS' CALL.
"Oh, my Lord, the Crucified,
Who for love of me hast died,
Mould me by Thy living breath,
To the likeness of Thy death,
While the thorns Thy brows entwine,
Let no flower wreath rest on mine."
But Francis kept a listening ear. God's word was his law, and though
he to a certain extent planned what he would do next, yet he left
himself entirely free in his Lord's hands, and at His disposal. Had he
not remained in this attitude of soul, or had he become wise in his
own conceits, or failed to keep his heart and soul fresh with the
first vital freshness of regeneration, what would have become of the
great Franciscan movement that was destined ultimately to stir the
world? God alone knows. _He_ keeps count of lost opportunities, calls
neglected, soul stirrings lulled to barren fruitless slumber!
The natural tendency of a soul which has been awakened to great
action, and accomplished daring feats, is--the first strain passed--to
relax, or settle down. It is only the minority that struggle and fight
and get the victory over this subtle temptation. The same principle
applies in a larger scale, and that is why it is so many glorious
religious movements have run a course and then dwindled into
mediocrity, the later disciples carving for themselves a medium way.
Francis' life-work might easily have dwindled into nothing just here.
He had not the least intimation that the Lord demanded anything more
of him but that he should love and serve Him all the days of his life,
in an ordinary unobtrusive manner. Two years had been spent in
repairing the churches, and Francis was now between twenty-seven and
twenty-eight years of age.
[Sidenote: _His Commission._]
It was on the twenty-fourth of February in the year 1209 that he
received his call to direct spiritual work. That morning he went to
church as usual, and the words of the Gospel for the day came to him
direct from Jesus Christ Himself.
"Wherever ye go preach, saying, 'The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.
Heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, cast out devils. Freely ye have
received, freely give. Provide neither silver nor gold nor brass in
your purses, neither scrip, nor two coats, nor shoes, nor staff, for
the laborer is worthy of his hire.'"
These words were a revelation.
"This is what I want," cried Francis, as he left the church, conscious
for the first time that he had wanted something. "This is what I have
long been seeking, from this day forth I shall set myself with all my
strength to put it in practice."
Immediately he took up his new commission. He threw away his shoes,
his stick, his purse, and put on the coarse dress of the peasant of
the Apennines, and girded it with a rough piece of rope, the first
thing he could find. Thus equipped, he set out a true Knight of our
Lord Jesus Christ, and for the first time in his life began to talk to
the people he met about their souls. That eloquent fiery tongue, that
was destined to make him one of the orators of the age, had not yet
become unloosed, and Francis was simplicity itself. Indeed, he did not
at first attempt to make anything like a speech or sermon. His efforts
were directed towards people whom he was acquainted with, and these he
urged to repent in the name of the Lord. He told his own experience,
and spoke of the shortness of life, of punishment after death, of the
need of heart and life holiness. His halting words struck home, they
pierced like a sword, and many thus convicted, repented and turned
from their evil ways.
[Sidenote: _A Sanctified Leader of Men._]
For over two years now, Francis had lived a solitary, and--humanly
speaking--a lonely life. He had, however, during that time proved the
sufficiency of God. We do not read that he ever longed for a human
friend, one that could understand and sympathise with him, so richly
had God supplied his every need. But the time had come when his
solitude was to end. God was about to raise him up friends. Again he
was to take up his old position as a leader of men, only a sanctified
one.
Bernardo di Quintavelle was a man of birth and position. He was a few
years older than Francis, and as he lived in Assisi, he had full
opportunity of watching all Francis' vagaries, for so his actions
looked to him at first. However, as time passed, and Francis' supposed
mania failed to develop into anything very dangerous, Bernardo puzzled
and wondered. What was it, he asked himself, that had so completely
changed the gay, frivolous, ease-loving Francis Bernardone, into a
poor hard-working beggar? Was he really as good and holy as the common
people began to whisper to themselves? We must bear in mind that vital
religion in Assisi was at its lowest ebb, and the kind that worked
itself out in daily life and action almost unknown.
Pretty soon Bernardo determined to study Francis close to. Again and
again he invited him to his house, and the more he saw of the
gracious, humble, God-fearing, Francis, the more he liked him. One
night he asked him to stay till the next day, and Francis consenting,
he had a bed made up for him in his own room. They retired. In a short
time Bernardo was, to all appearances, extremely sound asleep. Then
Francis rose from his bed, and kneeling down began to pray. A deep
sense of the Divine presence overflowed him, and he could do nothing
but weep and cry, "Oh, my God, oh, my God!" He continued all night
praying, and weeping before the Lord.
[Sidenote: _Bernardo._]
Now Bernardo, who was only pretending to be asleep in order to see
what Francis would do, was greatly touched. God visited him too that
night, and spoke to his soul so loudly and clearly that he dare not do
ought but follow the light that that night began to glimmer on his
future path. Little he thought into what a large place it would
ultimately lead him.
Next morning, true to his new-born inspiration, he said to Francis--
"I am disposed in my heart to leave the world and obey thee in all
that thou shalt command me."
To say that Francis was surprised is to say too little! He was
astonished--so astonished that it was difficult to find words in which
to answer. That the people he influenced would rise up and desire to
share his life, with its privations, and eccentricities had never as
yet occurred to him. His sole and only aim had been that his every
individual act and thought should be in conformity to that of our Lord
Jesus Christ. But "I, if I be lifted up, will draw all men unto Me,"
and Francis, by his humble life and work, had brought that Blessed
Life wherever he went. This is the Divine design for every faithful
soul that seeks to truly follow its Master. The man who could live and
spread holiness as an ordinary day-laborer and stone-mason was now to
receive a greater charge. As soon as he recovered from the first
surprise of Bernardo's statement, he said--
"Bernardo, a resolution such as the one thou speakest of is so
difficult, and so great an action, that we must take counsel of the
Lord Jesus, and pray Him that He may point out His will, and teach us
to follow it."
So they set off together for the church. While on their way there that
morning they were joined by another brother called Pietro, who said
that he too had been told of God to join Francis. So the three went
together to read the Gospels and pray for light.
Francis was soon convinced that Bernardo and Pietro were led of God,
and joyfully welcomed them as his fellow-laborers. They took up their
abode in a deserted mud hut, close by a river known as the Riva Torto.
And that mean little hut was the cradle which contained the beginning
of a work that spread itself into every quarter of the globe.
[Sidenote: _Egidio._]
"Francis," said Bernardo, a little later, "What wouldst thou do
supposing a great king had given thee possessions for which thou
afterwards hadst no use?"
"Why, give them back to be sure," answered Francis.
"Then," said Bernardo, "I will that I sell all my possessions, and
give the money to the poor."
So he did. Land, houses, all that he possessed he sold, and
distributed the proceeds to the poor in the market-place. One can
easily imagine the sensation this caused in Assisi, and how almost the
entire population thronged to the spot!
The news of this day's doings spread into all the country-side. In a
town not far from Assisi, a certain young man, called Egidio, listened
intently while his father and mother discussed Bernardo and Francis
and went into their history past and present, and speculated on their
future. Little they thought as they talked that their cultured,
refined son was drinking in every word, and that his soul was being
strangely stirred. Before the week was out, Egidio had received the
Divine touch that fitted him to respond to the call--"Follow Me." In
the marvellously colored dawn of an Italian morning, Egidio rose and
"followed."
Arriving in Assisi at a crossway he was at a standstill. Where should
he look for Francis? Which of those roads should he take? While he
thus alternately debated with himself, and prayed for guidance, who
should he see coming along out of the forest where he had been to
pray, but Francis himself! There was no mistaking that curious
bare-footed figure, with its coarse robe of the color known to the
peasants as "beast" color, girded with a knotted rope! Egidio threw
himself at Francis' feet, and besought him to receive him for the love
of God.
"Dear brother," said Francis, who during the past week had learned not
to be surprised when he received candidates for his work. "Dear
brother, God hath conferred a great grace upon thee! If the Emperor
were to come to Assisi and propose to make one of its citizens his
knight or secret chamberlain, would not such an offer be joyfully
accepted as a great mark of honor and distinction? How much more
shouldst thou rejoice that God hath called thee to be His Knight and
chosen servant, to observe the perfection of His Holy Gospel!
Therefore do thou stand firm in the vocation to which God hath called
thee."
[Sidenote: _First Apostolic Tour._]
So bringing him into the hut Francis called the others and said--
"God has sent us a good brother, let us therefore rejoice in the Lord
and eat together in charity."
After they had eaten breakfast Francis took Egidio into Assisi to get
cloth to make him a "beast-colored" uniform robe like the others. On
the way Francis thought he would like to try the young man and see
what kind of a spirit he had. So upon meeting a poor woman, who asked
them for money, Francis said to Egidio--
"I pray you, as we have no money, give this poor woman your cloak."
Immediately and joyfully Egidio pulled off his rich mantle and handed
it to the beggar, whereat Francis rejoiced much in secret.
It was a united household that assembled under the rude roof of the
mud hut by the Riva Torto. Four young men bound together in love, and
resolved to serve God absolutely in whatever way He should show them,
we shall see, ere long, how God used these human instruments which
were so unreservedly placed at His disposal. They were very happy for
a few days, and gave themselves up almost entirely to prayer; then
Francis led them into the seclusion of the woods and explained to them
how the Divine will had manifested itself to his soul.
"We must," he said, "clearly understand our vocation. It is not for
our personal salvation only, but for the salvation of a great many
others that God has mercifully called us. He wishes us to go through
the world, and by example even more than by words, exhort men to
repentance, and the keeping of the commandments." Bernardo, Pietro and
Egidio declared that they were willing for anything, and so the four
separated, two by two, for a preaching tour. Of Bernardo and Pietro
history is silent, but nothing could have been more simple than the
Apostolic wanderings of Francis and Egidio in the Marches of Ancona.
Along the roads they went wherever the Spirit of God led them singing
songs of God and Heaven. Their songs together with their happy
countenances and strange costume, naturally attracted the people, and
when a number would collect to stare at them, Francis would address
them, and Egidio, with charming simplicity accentuated all he said
with--
[Sidenote: _A Sermonette._]
"You must believe what my brother Francis tells you, the advice he
gives you is very good." But don't for a moment imagine that Francis
was capable of giving an address. Far from it; he was, truth to say,
very little in advance of Egidio, the burden of his cry being--
"Love God, fear Him, repent and you shall be forgiven;" then when
Egidio had chorused,
"Do as my brother Francis tells you, the advice he gives you is very
good," the two missionaries passed singing on their way!
But the impression produced was far beyond their simple words. The
religious history of the times tells us that the love of God was
almost dead in men's hearts, that the world had forgotten the meaning
of the word repentance, and was entirely given up to lust and vice and
pleasure. People asked each other what could be the object these men
had in view. Why did they go about roughly-clad, bare-foot, and eating
so little. "They are madmen" some said. Others "Madmen could not talk
so wisely." Others again, more thoughtful, said, "They seem to care so
little for life, they are desperate, and must be either mad, or else
they are aspiring to very great perfection!"
When the four had been through almost all the Province they returned
to Riva Torto, where they found three new candidates clamoring for
admission. Others followed, and when the numbers had increased to
about eight, Francis led them to a spot where four roads met, and sent
them out two and two to the four points of the compass to preach the
Gospel. Everywhere they went they were to urge men to repentance, and
point them to a Saviour who could forgive sins. They were to accept no
food they had not either worked for, or received as alms for the love
of Christ.