Excerpt from
Simple Peace, the Inner Life of St. Francis
by Bruce Davis PhD

The Beginning

High on Mount Subasio above Assisi, Francis stood with his arms outstretched in joy. The sunlight was dancing through the trees. There was only silence and the light falling off each leaf, landing on the forest floor and Francis's thin body. In this moment, all Francis wanted was to give himself completely and give thanks to the Creator of all that he experienced.

Slowly, reluctantly Francis walked down the hill to Assisi. Francis was wondering how he could feel so much hope and so much hopelessness for his future? How could he free himself from the expectations of his wealthy family who had seemingly everything but happiness?

How could he free himself of the demands of life in twelfth century Assisi and find his true destiny?

One day Francis was sitting at his parent's table. The sunlight had taken a brief bow on the table. Francis felt inspired. This was his moment. He wanted to share what his life was now about. Surely his mother and father would hear his heart and take comfort. Francis glanced out the window. He talked about the sun light and the light taking hold in his heart. As he talked about taking delight in the little things, his father began to stiffen. Francis was telling his story and how each stone he had been setting seemed to be speaking to him. He hardly noticed his father had pushed away his plate and had risen from the table. Just as Francis began asking his father for some money to buy more stones, his father reached for Francis and grabbed him. His mother screamed with fright as Peter Bernardone picked up frail Francis and threw him to the hard floor.

As if trying to continue to convince his father, Francis ran to the window picked up some of the fabric from his father's factory and threw it down to the street. He shouted, "Give your riches away if they give you no peace. Give everything away so you can have real life in eternity...." Surprised, people quickly stopped and began chanting for more. Francis reached for a big armful of cloth and threw it out the window. Filled with rage, his father was speechless and could not move. When Francis found one more large armful of fabric for the crowd in the street, his father lunged at him. Missing, he reached for a chair and was about to break it over Francis when Francis leaped to the street to join the people. His father pursued him, catching him by the collar and dragged him to the family church, San Rufino, where he called the priest to help him.

It was too late. Something had changed in Francis. He was no longer afraid. Fear of his father and of no visible support no longer ruled him. Love had taken fear's place. In that moment, in front of the gathering crowd, his father appealing, crying to the priest, Francis saw only Christ naked, giving him his mission. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else was important. As if in a world of only Francis and God, Francis began to take off his clothes and stand naked in front of everyone. The scandalized townspeople turned their heads in silence. As Francis handed his clothes back to his father, he said, "I give back to you everything that is yours, I give myself to God . . . God is now my father, my mother . . . " And Francis walked away.

"But Francis I Can't"

More often then not when others heard Francis's words of other worlds and the great love he found, their thoughts would intervene. "Maybe all of this is true for Francis but not for me," they thought. The brothers would separate themselves from Francis in their minds in order not to feel so challenged by what he said. "I'm not a saint like you," they would be thinking. Then each had their own internal debate that continued, "I can't give up everything to pursue what I don't know," thinking at least the small pleasures they were holding onto give some joy. With Francis as a mirror, each brother saw his own resistance standing out clearly in front of him.

Francis tried to bypass all their thinking by speaking directly about the love. He encouraged them, "Do not focus so much on what you think you should give up. Love more instead! When you feel the love, everything else is less important. Giving up everything is no guarantee of finding the soul. But love first, second, third, give up your distractions, so the soul has room to grow."

The Rule

The brothers were too involved in their own struggles to understand the troubles of Francis. As more and more brothers came, they wanted a rule to live by. Some brothers wanted to know, "Francis, exactly how many possessions can we have?" Others asked, "Can we keep our books? Who is in charge? Who shall we listen to?" The questions were without end. Some brothers wanted to follow no one but their own whims of the heart. They all pleaded with Francis. "Please give us a rule!"

Francis wondered out loud, "How does one make a rule for giving up selfishness and respecting one another? If I tell you to carry nothing but a walking stick you'll ask but what direction do I walk in? If I tell you to listen to your own truth, how will you know if it God's voice that speaks to you or just the voice that wants to be comfortable? How do I give a rule when only God himself knows what is best for us?

"But Francis, we cannot survive without some order. Give us a rule." They argued and argued what the rule should include. Francis listened and said, "Words, words, they are nothing. Here one moment and gone in the next. Words are empty, like the wind. How can you give them any importance?"

But the brothers insisted. Francis went into retreat at the hillside of Fonte Columbo. He heard a voice, "Have no possessions, not even a book. Then you know you will not be distracted from seeking the true spirit in your heart. Love God with all your being, all your strength, in every moment then perhaps you will have His grace. God will take your heart and free it, holding all to himself for His plan and His glory." For Francis, the spiritual life was simple. "Why can't we trust in God, let our souls guide and comfort us? The doves, the squirrels, the rabbits they all live without a rule. Why do we look so hard for something of our own making to give us rest? God alone gives us everything we need."

Mountain Tops

From Mt. Subasio, Francis went north to La Verna, south to Fonte Colombo, St. Urbano, and Greccio. His heart pulled him to mountain tops again and again. Here the air was light, the silence overwhelming, nature fully alive. The green valleys reminded him of expanses of the human soul, love beyond the horizon. From the mountain tops, Francis could understand why the people crowded into the villages below were unhappy. The soul must have room to breathe and remember its Divine nature. The great love of the soul can be forgotten too easily, squeezed into the stress of daily life. No wonder people are full of problems instead of being full of God.

Life is where we put our hearts. On the mountain tops, Francis was with the great forests, the planets and the stars. Eternity was holding him.

His weeks and months in simple prayer were easy, gentle. Life was not meant to be a constant struggle. On the mountain tops, Francis could not take too seriously the pains of body or mind. Here he knew he was close to Heaven. Often during his meditations a chuckle and then a laugh would break forth. His brothers would look at him. "Imagine," he said, "they call me the poverello (meaning the poor one), when I am the richest man in the world, sitting here with my brothers on God's throne."

Rich families would work for several generations to own such a mountain. "Even when they owned it," Francis wondered, "do they know how rich they really are? People work for money seeking what cannot be bought."

A bird sailed by and Francis would remember not to waste such a fine day in unnecessary thought. His heart was stretching to the horizons of the valley and the sky. Then something would let go and he felt a wave of light roll out from his chest and go on without stopping, loving everything in its path.

God You Are My All and Everything

In the middle of the night, Francis found his dreams taking him away from his prayer to know God. He would awaken and quickly go to his knees to recapture his life's intention. With his entire being he would say, "God you are my all and everything." Lying awake, looking into the starry night, he would feel the energy of the night and previous day, the thoughts, the events that escaped his purpose. Collecting altogether his internal experience he enjoyed bringing it back to God. This was his time to recount the desires he had during the day for food and warmth, his wishes for various brothers and feel his deepest desire to love God. The challenge for Francis was not to give up desire but to remember what he really wanted. Francis enjoyed his late night vigils remembering the great love, reminding his soul and heart, affirming "God; you are my all and everything."

In the middle of the night while everyone was asleep, he was most happy being awake. During the day the mind has many roads to travel but at night there was only one way to go. Francis went to his knees with his hands cupped before him. Simply he offered all that he is to the stars and eternity. "God you are my all, God you are my everything," he repeated again and again. His heart's fire burned in his chest and through his whole body keeping him warm until he grew tired and would return to sleep.

One night before going back to sleep, Francis wrote from his bed: "God, you are love, charity, You are wisdom. You are humility. You are patience. You are beauty. You are safety. You are rest. You are joy and gladness. You are our hope. You are our justice. You are temperance. You are all our treasure overflowing." (Monograph of St. Francis in Basilica of St. Francis)

The Other Side

It was during one of these Lenten seasons when villagers were saying Francis and the brothers were sacrificing themselves for God, that Francis finally understood that sacrifice was not the path. Something happened that would change forever his spiritual journey.

Francis was eating and sleeping little. His thoughts were simple mantras. Each repetition of words was sowing Divine seeds into his heart. Eyes closed. Francis was standing in the very center of his heart calling out, "God, you are my all and everything," again and again.

Then suddenly Francis was no longer inside and he wasn't outside either. He was becoming larger and larger, and very light. He could find no end to his awareness spreading further and further to the horizon. He felt he was on the other side. His body was dissolving into selfless particles. He was forever spreading. Everything was expanding. The light was joyful. The air was pure joy. As Francis became lighter and lighter, he was nothing but this vast space that was joy beyond joy. Somehow, he knew he was on the otherside. This is real life after this life. Francis felt too light, too much joy to give any thought whether this was only an experience or the great passing over. He was still spreading out. Even his thoughts were dissolving into no body. The light was too much for thinking. The joy was too joyful for Francis to somehow separate himself to organize and hold onto a thought.

Francis was one with his Lord. God was limitless body of intense light. The light joy was the true body. In this intense joy all answers were available. Francis just knew it, although he had no questions. All beings, all future and past were available. Francis knew this too but didn't have any interest in pursuing it. Francis just was this brilliant light that was made of the finest joy. There was nothing else.

What Francis felt is that time had changed. Time is a long piece of rope that unravels until each fiber is naked and exposed to the light of eternity. Any thoughts left are the fiber ends floating in the Divine joy. As the thoughts let go and loosen, eternity is the current of light. There is very little movement, only a gentle pull outward from inside the heart. The love is always expanding. At least that is what Francis felt. The love was waves pulling him further and further to the stars and galaxies. Who he was and the love was the same. His essence is unlimited space as he felt himself spreading, spreading. Francis was no more. There is only God, the great peace.

Francis was there for seemingly a long time although it could have been only moments. No-one including Francis knows. When he found himself being organized again, he was getting heavier. Out of the vast space, he was pulling thughts, his self together. He was organizing ideas into thoughts once again. Francis was back. He had a brief glimpse of the Holiness and other worldly light from which we all come and return to. The other side is so different. The joy is so great. The real self is vast, an ocean. The spiritual world is complete, unlimited acceptance, light.

In comparison this world is heavy, physical, serious. Why would anyone consciously leave such a beautiful world for this? At that moment, Francis realized that only Jesus Christ or the greatest saints had any awareness of consciously choosing to come into this world. Francis stopped and began crying, feeling so much light and respect and honor for God to humble himself and come into this heavy, conflicted world. This was the real sacrifice. This was maybe the only true sacrifice, to leave the pure joy and come into this world to show humanity the way back to the light.

Francis could hardly get up and walk. His body was the stars and golden light yet somehow he was back among the brothers. When he closed his eyes and went inside, he was back in the unlimited space. When he opened his eyes the physical world would pull him into his small self. He closed his eyes knowing it is always there even when he forgets. Finally deciding to keep his eyes open, the first thing he noticed was the very large orange sun setting. It was incredibly beautiful. He looked at each brother. Each face was a canvas of love. He had never seen them as they really are. Each brother was so uniquely God. He caressed their faces and held them. The human body, this life is pure wonder even though it is heavy and everyone so serious. This world with its gravity is perfectly naked. All its problems are simply because of gravity. It is the nature of this world to be serious, with so much of the great light and joy held separate.

Francis sank into the lap of one brother and began crying again. To live in this world requires such humility, not only for God but for everyone. We leave so much! We are separate from so much! Yet this world we live in is God's miracle, just very different. This side and the love on the other side have no common reference points. There is no bridge. There is no bridge! Francis thought. Then he remembered where he was and said, "Yes, the love, the love is the bridge. The only bridge. Nothing else exists. Nothing else is true. . .

The love . . . "

Francis knew more clearly than ever that love, no matter how small, is the only way. Love is the only thing worthy of his attention. Only love can bridge the two sides. Love is the inspiration, the guide, the source, the river that gives life.

For days, life was brighter. What he saw, heard, and tasted were clearer, sharper. The forest's flowers were brighter yellow, purple, and red. Each feeling including his anger and selfishness felt pure. To be human is a unique experience. Every part of being human is beautiful and perfect. Every moment is special. This life is so different from the life to come, the other worlds awaiting us. Francis was superconscious. Life's precious blood flowed through him.

As the days passed, earth regained its gravity. Heaven was becoming a memory, lucid and unforgettable but nevertheless, a memory. Francis did not mind fitting into the human story quickly and easily again. Life was a rich masterpiece. He had briefly met His creator. Now all of creation was fresh and alive within him.

Clare's Garden

Somehow Clare's journey escaped the path of continuous disappointment with self. Somehow the body's and mind's inability to accept how present and great God's love was, was not such a conflict for Clare. It was true that the sisters and Clare struggled less over rules and regulations than Francis and the brothers. But the sisters had their own challenges including accepting being cloistered from the world when the love they found in their hearts told them to love everything and everyone. All of life was part of God's beauty and some of the sisters could not understand why they should live behind walls as if some of the world was unworthy of receiving their joy.

Clare, however, grew to enjoy her time alone. In the beginning she missed being more with Francis and listening to the brothers tell of their adventures. As the years passed, she found everything she was looking for in the cloister garden. Clare's garden turned her ever inward to God's garden inside. While Francis wandered over silent filled mountains and begged in small villages with the poor and the lepers, Clare was sitting in her heart of hearts, her garden at San Damiano.

This garden was more than a place to grow vegetables and herbs or flowers for the altar. Clare's garden was where the sisters grew in simple peace. Several times each day just after or in the midst of their duties and labor, many of the sisters would join Clare in the garden if only for a few moments. Their hearts would drink once again the fragrance and beauty of the flowers that were in season.

Their souls would let go and seemingly disappear into the quiet of another perfect moment in the stillness. As if no time had passed, the sisters would be ready again to serve one another with the chores and their personal duties.

Never having far to go to the garden was a reminder how close was God's love.