St. Francis – 800 years in heaven

The chapel where the remains of St. Francis rest

The celebration of the death of St. Francis of Assisi on the evening of October 3 each year is known as the Transitus in Latin, or the "passage" from this life to the next. Today the Franciscan family remembers the joy with which Francis greeted his "Sister Bodily Death" and calls to mind that this is a journey we will all make someday. This commemoration of death is one of the most important Franciscan feasts.  Francis did not shy away from the reality of his eventual death. Scholars note that this stanza in the ‘Canticle of the Creatures’ was added at the end of the text by Francis near the time of his own death. Those Franciscan friars who knew and lived with him, recount how Francis was seen by a doctor close to his death and recalls the exchange between them:

The doctor said to him: "Brother, by the grace of the Lord, it will be well with you." For he did not want to tell him that he would die in a little while. Again blessed Francis said to him: "Tell me the truth. How does it look to you? Do not be afraid, for, by the grace of God, I am not a coward who fears death. With the Lord's help, by His mercy and grace, I am so united and joined with my Lord that I am equally as happy to die as I am to live." The doctor then told him frankly: "According to our assessment, your illness is incurable and you will die either at the end of September or in early October." Blessed Francis, while he was lying on his bed sick, with the greatest devotion and reverence for the Lord stretched out his arms and hands with great joy of mind and body and said to his body and soul: "Welcome, my Sister Death!" So, as today we commemorate the eighth centenary of Francis' own transitus, and celebrate the historical legacy he left behind, may we commit ourselves to more deeply embracing the Christian truth that death does not have the last word and, when the time comes for each of us as it surely will, that we embrace our Sister Bodily Death like the poor man from Assisi who reminded us that the only path toward resurrection is through earthly death.

Dear Stephen

Stephen is my Guardian Angel.

I’ve had a close relationship with him ever since I was a child.

I chose his name because I liked the martyred saint who does not get much recognition, because his feast day falls the day after Christmas, and so everyone is still in a festive mood, celebrating, partying and playing with the toys.

But Stephen has been a tower of strength for me,

Saving me from many near-miss accidents, helping me when I got stuck in sticky, uncomfortable situations, suggesting the right phrase to use when preaching, giving talks, and in conversation.

Stephen was there in my passenger seat while driving throughout New York and Oregon, clocking over a million miles, zipping through trucks, trailers and crazy drivers.

Stephen has travelled with me in all my flights over 35 years, watching over me, hoping to arrive safely at my destinations, usually Malta, New York and Oregon.

Unfortunately many people do not even recognize their Guardian Angel.

They think it’s something just for children,

But how wrong they are !

They are with us from the moment we are conceived until the day we die.

Watching over us, protecting us, guarding our every step we take, every word we say.

They also stay with us when we get to heaven.

Today we honor them on their feast day.

Psalm 91:11 reads: "For He will command His angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways"

And in the Gospel we read "See that you despise not one of these little ones: for I say to you, that their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." (Matthew 18:10)

So thank you dear Stephen, for always being there for me.

Thank you for your timely advice whenever I turned to you.

Thank you for staying close to me, always and everywhere.  

St Therese of Lisieux

St Therese, a few months before she died, aged 24.

Generations of Catholics have admired this young saint, called her the "Little Flower", and found in her short life more inspiration for their own lives than in volumes by theologians. Yet Therese died when she was 24, after having lived as cloistered Carmelite for less than ten years. She never went on missions, never founded a religious order, never performed great works. The only book of hers, published after her death, was a brief edited version of her journal called "Story of a Soul." But within 28 years of her death, the public demand was so great that she was canonized. Therese was born in France in 1873, the pampered daughter of a mother who had wanted to be a saint and a father who had wanted to be monk. The two had gotten married but determined they would be celibate until a priest told them that was not how God wanted a marriage to work! They must have followed his advice very well because they had nine children. The five children who lived were all daughters. Louis and Zelie Martin would themselves be canonized in 2015. Her mother Zelie died when Theresa was only 5 years old and her sixteen year old sister Pauline became her second mother -- which made the second loss even worse when Pauline entered the Carmelite convent five years later. Pauline and Marie would follow and that left her with her father and Celine.

At Therese as a young girl

She of course wanted to join the convent but was too young – yet, this did not stop her. She went to the bishop and her father took her to Rome to meet Pope Leo XIII. Soon afterwards, Therese was admitted to the Carmelite convent that her sisters Pauline and Marie had already joined. She knew as a Carmelite nun she would never be able to perform great deeds. Therese took every chance to sacrifice, no matter how small it would seem. She smiled at the sisters she didn't like. She ate everything she was given without complaining - often given the worst leftovers. Upon their father’s death, now Celine also entered the convent. Four of the sisters were now together again. In this small convent they now made up one-fifth of the population. Despite this and the fact that Therese was a permanent novice they put her in charge of the other novices. Then in 1896, she coughed up blood. She kept working without telling anyone until she became so sick a year later everyone knew it. She died on September 30, 1897 at the age of 24 years old. After she died, Pauline put together Therese's memoirs and sent 2000 copies to other convents. Within two years, the Martin family had to move because her notoriety was so great and by 1925 she had been canonized.