whitebeard

Sunday, February 25, 2007

CHAPTER VII

THE ROCK OF S. FRANCESCO

Pag.139-151

"How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace ! "

UPON the crest of the hills in the south-east of the Valley rises the Rock of La Verna, with the Franciscan convent perched like a bird in a cleft of its long spiny back. Thither the eyes of the wanderer to-day turn as persistent1y as those of the contentious barons in the castles below long ago. The peculiar shape of the Sacred Mount and the dark garment of forest which clothes it mark it out amid the dry and sterile summits around.. To those in the Valley it is the gateway to the East, whence the Wise Men came. The sun rises from behind it, and lingers upon it last of all, when the ridges around are already grey. Every hour of the day brings it a changing glory, from that earliest moment before the dawn when you first descry it looming against the blanching sapphire of the sky. In the low beams of the newly-risen sun it glows translucent as with some inward flame amid wreaths of fiery mist, and you feel that the mystic Sacrifice is being offered up anew which once caused the mountain to shine with a light so bright that it woke the sleepers far be1ow. And so it passes onward into the purple and golden alternations of fun day, and in the afternoon withdraws itself within a ce1estial vesture of rose, till evening brings new fire and gold, and it burns with a deeper and deeper crimson against the crystalline flame of the sky.

The very equinoxes seem to respect this holy place. When the whole Apennine range has been black with impending storm I have seen La Verna shining still, the last to be overwhelmed in the cataclysm. And out of the veil of rain, the billowy ocean of vapour that has levelled the mountains with the valley, it has been the first to reappear, an Ararat upon the flood.

But the Mons Felix does not always vouchsafe itself to our gaze. Often when all around is clear, and every fold and wrinkle is marked out upon the secular hills, a little cloud, like a dove's wing, rests upon it

and wraps it from us. Again, cut off from earth by encircling mists, it floats in the pure ether, or through the fine veil of a shower, smitten by sunlight, it will appear infinitely far off, no solider than a dream. Sometimes -not often- the Rock is grey and sad, just. a thing of earth, a vision no longer.

The story of San Francesco's acquisition of La Verna is well known. We all remember from the Fioretti how, at the great feast at Montefeltro for the knighting of a member of that noble House, the wonderful words of the small barefooted brother with the flaming eyes, whose tales were of the valiant and sorely tried knights and virgins of Christ, held all the revellers in a spell, and how Count Orlando of Chiusi in Casentino was so moved that he sought out Francesco after the preaching and inquired of him privately concerning his own soul. “And in the end Messer Orlando said to the holy Francesco: I have in Tuscany a most devout mountain (monte devotissimo) which is called the Mountain of the Vernia, which is very solitary and wild, and passing fit for him who would do penance in a place removed from the world, or for him who desires a solitary life; if it please thee, I will willingly give it to thee and to thy companions, for the welfare of my soul." .

San Francesco, hearing “so liberal an offer of that thing which he much desired, was greatly rejoiced."

He agreed with Count Orlando to send two of his companions to visit the mountain, and if it appeared

them all that was described, he would accept the loving offer.

The two brothers, to whom the Count gave a little company ofsoldiers to defend them from the wild beasts, presently returned full of joy to their master at Assisi and related to him how they had taken possession of a place upon the mountain, exceedingly well fitted for prayer and contemplation. Whereupon San Francesco was very joyful and gave praise and thanks to God, and before long he prepared to go up thither himself.

He took with him three of the brothers who loved and understood him best. There is a charming

holiday feeling about the story of this journey. Burdens and cares had already begun to weigh upon the fast-growing community, and material considerations and all the complex influences of earthly existence were spoiling its founder's poetic dream of the perfect evangelic life. But alone with his three friends he would follow the counsel of his own heart and conform to the letter with those precepts of the Gospel which he knew to be the way of liberty and happiness. For the holy followers of Poverty, having nothing, have no fear of losing aught; everywhere safe, they are slopped by no terrors, are distracted by no fears, and without any anxiety await from one day the next. I

So they would take no thought for the morrow, what they should eat, or where they should sleep.

(1) Thomas of Celano.

Bread they could beg and God would provide them a . lodging. Scripless and purseless, they set forth, making the sign of the Cross.

On the second day bad weather overtook them, and they were very weary; no village or house was at hand. But they found an abandoned church in which they sheltered themselves. Here Francesco, praying after his custom while his companions slept, was assailed by devils, and after a whole night of wrestling he emerged victorious and joyful, but so worn out in body that he could continue his way no longer on foot. Help was forthcoming. A poor countryman willingly lent his pack-ass when he heard that he who needed it was that Brother Francesco d'Assisi, of whom so much good is related, and mounting the saint upon the beast, he himself followed on foot. When they were gone a little way he said :

"Tell me, art thou Brother Francesco d'Assisi ?" and when he heard that it was so: “Then endeavour, therefore," said the peasant, "to be as good as thou art held to be by all men, inasmuch as the people have great faith in thee; and therefore I admonish thee that thou be not other than that which they hope of thee."

Francesco. straightway flung himself from his steed to the ground, and kneeling before the man, kissed his feet and thanked him humbly because he had deigned to admonish him with so much charity. They proceeded onwards. up the mountain side, through the oak forest, over rocks and stones and across ravines, and the heat became very great, so that the peasant began to cry out :

"Alack, I die of thirst."

Then San Francesco prayed very earnestly to God and told the man to go to a certain spot dose by, where he would find a fountain of fresh water. And he did so and found the fountain as San Francesco had said, and drank of it and was refreshed. But the story says that this fountain was never seen there before, and has never been found since.

Presently they came to the foot of the Rock and sat down' to repose themselves. In this wilderness, to reach which they had nearly died of heat and fatigue, a beautiful spreading oak now gave them comfortable shade, and in this old haunt of robbers and wild beasts nothing came to molest the Poverello di Dio. Only a loud singing and a fluttering of wings was suddenly heard, and a great multitude of birds surrounded him and alighted, some upon his head, others on his shoulders, on his arms, in his lap, at his feet. Then he said, all joyous of heart :

" I believe, oh, dearest brethren, that it is pleasing to our Lord Jesus Christ that we should dwell in this solitary mountain, since our brothers and sisters, the birds, show such gladness at our coming."

The two pioneer brothers had made huts for themselves, in the place where the convent now stands, and Count Orlando, who hastened up with his people when he heard that Francesco was come, quickly caused a rough cell to be built at the foot of a beautiful beech tree, a spot chosen by the saint as especially “devout " and suited for praying.

Before he took his leave the Count besought his. " dearest brethren " to send to his house for everything that they needed, as it was not his intent that in this .wild place they should suffer for any bodily nece9Sity, which might make them less mindful of spiritual things. But Francesco knew well that ease of body was no encouragement to contemplation and prayer. In this high place he was resolved that his Lady Poverty should be supreme, and that, where the atmosphere was become so pure and dean that it seemed already more like heaven than earth, no thought of the flesh should weigh down the' winged soul.

When the Count was gone he made his companions sit down and taught them the way of the religious life in a hermitage. And more especially he enjoined upon them the observance of Holy Poverty, saying :

"Do not regard the loving proffer of Messer Orlando so much as in aught to offend our lady, Madonna la Povertà." And again : "Let us persevere in holy poverty, since it is a way of perfection and an earnest of eternal riches."

Thus did San Francesco take possession of his castle. Thus was this mountain, the habitation of rude Nature and her ancient votaries, whose kings are said in dim past days to have made their seat there among the thunderbolts, consecrated to ,a new cult, the mystic paradox that reveals sweetness in the lion's carcase,

strength in weakness, love in pain. The Cross, lifted by the three handmaids -Poverty, Humility and

Chastity- was henceforth to be the beacon for the Apennine valleys.

It was in 1213 that Count Orlando de' Cattani gave La Verna to Francesco d'Assisi, a gift confirmed by his sons in a legal instrument in 1274. After that first visit, the saint often came there again. There is no

precise record in the ear1y biographies of these different visits. The Fioretti confound his first and last ascents in one, but we may gather from that enchanting record and from the other early legends something of his life upon the Rock.

Often, when his virtue was all gone out of him because of his fervour in healing souls, or his spirit was cast down by some compromise with his ideal forced upon him by the world, or some new frustration of his dear desire of martyrdom, he would seek La Verna, where in the silence and free space, lifted above the sordid world and remote from the curious multitude, he could refresh his soul, which needed only God. Guarded from intrusion by the faithful companions whom he always took with him, he would pass long hours in secret communion with the Unseen. Here he could live unhindered according to the rule of his heart, and with fasting and with hot tears make his body conform to that passion of the soul which he suffered. continually because of the Cross of Christ.

Nesting in the holes of the rocks and making his habitation in caves, often giving his frail limbs only a cold and rigid stone for a couch, he sought to share the Agony which filled him with such a rapture of pity and love. He descended, into the secret and terrible places of the mountain wl1'ich all men believed to be the habitation of evil spirits, and wrestled with the devils therein till he compelled them to reveal themselves as in reality the servants and agents of Christ. Then when fear was cast out, comforted and renewed in spirit he heard the cloven rocks suddenly resound with a song of praise and knew that the whole earth was redeemed. All the creatures of God in fraternal concord with him and with one another praised the Lord; and where before in the frozen walls of the mountain the dumbness of eternal ages had reigned, he saw the tender green fronds springing in the crevices, and heard, joining in the joyful chorus, the consoling voice of our sister, the Bodily Death.

And here at La Verna was to be fulfilled in a new and strange manner that consummation of love, that union with Christ, that sacramental martyrdom, for which his whole being yearned. This mount, for him whose life had been a joyful Calvary, was to be the scene of actual sacrifice. Two years before his death, Francesco, who was now weak from many bodily infirmities, and whose heart was so full with constant meditation on the sorrow of Christ that he continually melted into tears, turned his feeble steps once more to the place which was perhaps already peculiarly associated in his mind with the thought of the Crucifixion. The Quaresima, or forty days' fast in preparation for the Feast of St. Michael, was at hand, and Francesco, who held the archangel in especial reverence, had elected to keep it at La Verna.

He took with him his three constant companions, Brother Masseo, Brother Angelo, and Brother Leo. Mounted upon an ass, for he was utterly unable to ascend on foot, he entered the place where he was to suffer the great experience of his life. After his usual manner here, he withdrew himself from his companions and passed his time in a fervour of prayer and meditation. Feeling that his death was now not far off, he wept often for the future of his Order, when he should no longer be there to care for it.

" Lord God," he would say, "how will it be with thy poor family, which Thou hast committed to me,

sinner that I am? Who will comfort them, correct them, pray for them? "

Crying thus, he was visited, we are told, by the ange1 of the Lord and filled with new hope, and consoled in heart he gave himself after this wholly to the contemplation of the Crucified.

Sometimes stealing upon him unawares, the brothers would see and hear him weeping aloud the passion of Christ, as if he saw it with his bodily eyes. But their wonder and veneration disturbed the saint. He would have none but Brother Leo near him, who was of a passing simplicity and purity, so that San Francesco loved him very dearly and called him, instead of Brother Lion, Fra Pecorella di Dio, the little lamb of God.

One day Brother Leo was troubled. by a very great temptation of the devil, and there came to him a great desire to have something devout written by the hand of San Francesco, believing that if he could have it the temptation would depart. But he dared not ask. San Francesco, however, perceived what was the matter, and calling him, bade him bring pen and ink, and with his own hand he wrote a benediction of Brother Leo and gave it to him. These were the words: May the Lord bless thee and keep thee, show thee His face and have compassion upon thee, turn His countenance upon thee and give thee peace. And underneath he drew a Tau cross, upon a skull, for his sign.

(1) This document, inscribed by Brother Leo with the word s, the blessed Francis wrote with his hand this benediction for me, Brother Leo, and with an account of the miracle of the Stigmata, is preserved at the Sacro Convento at Assisi.

Brother Leo, immediately released from temptation and consoled in spirit, was filled with joy and wonder at his master's knowledge of his heart, and from thenceforth regarded him as an ange1.

Often when Francesco was rapt in ecstasy the disciple would think he saw him lifted up bodily in the air, and creeping to his feet, would kiss them and weep over them, praying that thus he too, through the merits ofthis man, might be carried up into heaven.

But even this reverent companionship was irksome to Francesco. His soul needed to be alone in its upward flight. He summoned Brother Leo one day and bade him go and stand beside the. oratory of the friars, and come to him when he heard him call. Presently Leo heard a call and went and found his master. "My son," said Francesco, "let us seek another place where you shall not be able to hear me." Before long he spied a solitary spot cut off from them by a horrible cleft in the rock and not to be reached save by means of a great tree trunk, which with . difficulty was laid across for a bridge. There he elected to have a little rough cell built where it was not possible that for any cry he could be heard by the Brothers. When it was made he sent his companions all away and bade that none should come to him. Brother Leo alone was to come once a day with a little bread and water, and again in the night at the hour of Matins, when he should come silently, and standing at the head of the bridge should say: Domine, labia me aperies. And if the master responded he was to cross and enter the cell and they would say Matins together. But if there was no answer he was to depart instantly. And the Brothers did as Francesco bade them and left him alone.

Now began that forty days' retreat, of which we may not probe the mysteries. Only we know that now

was come the hour of fiercest trial, of bitterness like unto ,death, for this follower of Christ, issuing in a strange and new consolation. Here was his Gethsemane, his Golgotha, his split rock-tomb.
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