By Janee Angel, CBF field personnel

I grew up in Teutopolis, Illinois, current population of 1,644. The German/Dutch town is so small that it is still considered a village. Its only church, St. Francis of Assisi Roman Catholic Church, sits on the highest piece of land. As a child there, I attended the elementary school which was previously a private Catholic school. I was taught by nuns, attended first communion rehearsals with my classmates during the school day and during recess, played in the park that was decorated with statues of the crucifix and St. Francis himself.

By the time I took my first church history class in seminary, I felt as though Francis and I had become friends. He intrigued me. I almost always pictured him, carved in stone, with a bird resting on his hand. He seemed one with nature and friendly to me as a child who had grown comfortable playing around his statue.

I wrote a paper on him in that church history class. I learned about how he heard the voice of God calling him to rebuild his church. I treasured his humility as he denied things of this world and took a vow of poverty. I liked his friendship with Clare. His prayer of peace read,
“Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love,” set to music, is still a song that I find myself humming when things are too quiet.

Moving to Belgium with CBF in 2004 afforded me the opportunity to visit Assisi, Italy.
All alone, with my journal and Bible in hand, I visited the basilica that bears Francis’ name.
I sat quietly in a back pew, tuning into my thoughts, as tourists shuffled in and out.

Walking just a bit outside the activity of Assisi, I found the church where Francis heard
Jesus’ voice in 1206. It was empty. Not the average destination for most visitors. It still
looked a bit in ruins. Still, surrounded by olive trees, it held a rustic charm. It was simple,
unlike the basilicas in town.

Francis said, “for it is in giving that we receive.” That’s what he did. That’s what we do as
we serve the Lord. We give of our time. We give of our money. We give of our families. We
give of our homes. And we receive too. We receive joy in the obedience. We receive peace in helping. And sometimes we receive new sisters and brothers in Christ who will share
eternity with us.

I brought a two-inch delicately carved wooden statue of Francis home with me. He still
stands near my books today. When I glance his way, he is still a reminder that “may I not
so much seek to be loved as to love, for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning
that we are pardoned and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

PRAY, PRACTICE, PONDER

The Prayer of St. Francis
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
and where there is sadness, joy.
O Divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.