How does a sense of deep communal guilt lead to an
exploration of the Franciscan charism?
Well, in my case, a troubling and increasingly obvious
disconnect between my growing faith as a new Catholic and my “normal” North
American way of life was the spark.
My husband and I were welcomed into the Church five years ago, but the
hypocrisy between what I was spouting and how I was living started to become
almost painful to me shortly after that. A trip to Kenya in 2010, where we met a number of smart,
funny, open-hearted, joyful, faithful, engaging Christians (who happened to live in one
of Nairobi’s biggest slums) brought the whole thing to a head. Was there any fathomable reason that I
deserved to live in affluence, while they lived in poverty? How could I ever come to terms with the
huge gulf in our respective living standards? I came home from that trip
enlightened, but facing reverse culture shock as I slid back into life in
Canada. I felt like Dr. Jekyll and
Mr. Hyde – a happy consumer longing for minimalism….a privacy-lover who ached
to be radically hospitable…..a “good person” who often felt ashamed and
sick.
The timing of an email from an old friend was a loving
little nudge from our good God. This
friend, whom we later found out is a Secular Franciscan himself, suggested that
my husband and I look into the local Secular Franciscan group. Like almost
everyone on the planet, I knew a little about St. Francis. I had seen
Zeffirelli’s movie, Brother Sun and
Sister Moon, when I was a teenager, and I had even read a biography of St.
Francis by G.K. Chesterton a number of years ago. But I had next to no
knowledge of the Secular Franciscan Order.
After going to our first meeting at St. Luke’s Church,
reading some of the formation resources, and talking to some of the intriguing
people we met there, it seemed like St. Francis himself was standing at a
crossroads, beckoning me to walk beside him for a little while. And so the journey – and the healing –
began….
