Why Protestants Should Read Jon Sweeney’s Latest Book on Saint Francis of Assisi

Why Protestants Should Read Jon Sweeney’s Latest Book on Saint Francis of Assisi October 25, 2014

Sweeney saint francis bookI spent a week recently in Assisi, reflecting upon the legacy of St. Francis, with Jon Sweeney, author of When Saint Francis Saved the Church, as my companionable guide. That book is written by a Catholic, published by a Catholic press (Ave Maria), and directed toward Catholics. Why, some of you might ask, should Protestants read this book? Good question. Let me tell you.

 

Embracing Silence

Many of us Protestants aren’t very good at silence, at meditation, at listening prayer. When I want to retreat into silence to spend 24 hours in God’s presence, I tend to visit St. Placid Priory, a Catholic retreat center run by Benedictine sisters.

Saint Francis embraced silence. In Assisi, I sensed that silence, particularly as I made the short trek outside the city walls, past the basilica of St. Chiara (Clare), through the Nuova Porta, down the hill past the bus parking lot, with its succession of trinket shops, through olive groves, to San Damiano. This is where St. Francis heard Jesus from the crucifix tell him to rebuild the church. Despite the swell of tourists, in and out, out and in, I sensed the quiet. As much as quiet, I sensed the slowness.

Later that same day, I hiked up Mount Subasio, to the hermitage where Saint Francis, in a bathtub-sized rock cave, prayed. Again, I sensed the silence. Deeply. I know that baseball games and committee meetings and commutes make it difficult for us to embrace silence. I know that intimately. I also know that many of us are starved for silence. We need St. Francis’ silence and the art of listening he developed over a lifetime of relinquishing–what Jon Sweeney calls Francis’ “new spirituality.”

 

Breaking Boundaries

Wendy Murray, in her review of Sweeney’s book, may be right to point out that Sweeney’s portrait of Francis is perhaps too liberal. In the throes of the Crusades, Francis went to convert the Muslim sultan of Egypt—not just to chat amiably or even to prevent another war. (The Crusades were in full swing.) Francis was not a universalist.

When a teenaged Clare came to him in the middle of the night, Saint Francis cut her hair, dressed her in a tunic, and let her remain with the friars for a while as a brother—but not permanently. Francis was not a feminist.

Still, the reality that Francis does not fit into modern categories should not diminish our appreciation for how profoundly he broke boundaries, as Sweeney is quick to point out, with respect to women and Muslims and birds, for that matter. He moved with uncharacteristic grace and unassuming charm—but with a tenacious impulse toward inclusion and acceptance. We Protestants, liberal and conservative alike, can garner a good deal from the life of Francis about how to respect others, especially those whom we may want to vilify.

 

Saint Francis and Pope Francis

Here and there throughout When Francis Saved the Church, Sweeney expresses hope for the pope, the first in 800 years to take the name of Francis. I was skeptical. Can Pope Francis really accomplish that much from the center of power the way Francis did from the margins? My experience says no. I thought Sweeney naïve.

Then I met a Catholic bishop from the Methodist-Catholic dialogue of which my wife Priscilla is a part. (The dialogue brought me to Assisi; I just went along for the ride.) Over dinner, we pried out of the bishop something startling. He is leaving his three bedroom, four bath home, which sits directly opposite a beach, to live in a two bedroom Knights of Columbus apartment. He puts it in terms of necessity: he can’t keep the house up; he doesn’t need the space; he is away so much, working 80-90 hours a week; the cathedral has guest rooms. But then he ceases to be practical and tells us he is moved by Pope Francis’ example: the Ford Focus instead of a limousine; a guesthouse rather than the papal apartment. That’s really why he is giving up a beautiful house for an apartment in an inexpensive and ethnically diverse part of the city.

I confessed to our bishop friend (over pasta rather than in a confessional) that it’s hard to think about being downwardly mobile without the sort of community Catholicism provides. Then the bishop said something that sounds, well, astonishingly Protestant. He said, “You have the Bible, and that is enough.”

We’re back to Saint Francis—or is it Pope Francis? We’re back to taking the Bible seriously on poverty, the way Francis did—the way Pope Francis does. We’re back to taking Jesus at his word about wealth, the way Francis did—the way Pope Francis does. We’re back, if you don’t mind my saying, to being distinctly Protestant when it comes to the Bible. Thank God for a Catholic bishop willing to tell me—and show me—what it means to be genuinely Protestant.


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