My gratitude for the life of St Francis and, like the Simple Path to Union with God, is the means that the Holy Spirit and my Mother Mary have given me to deepen my understanding of and embody the key aspects of St Francis’s life, which have attracted me since my youth.

Reflection: Cenacle, April 16, 2026

Breathe upon us, my Lord, breathe upon us, Rabbuni (my Savior and Lord,

my love, my ALL), breathe upon us as you did in the Cenacle upon the

apostles, and grant us the Gift of Your Spirit. Come, Lord Jesus, come.

The idea for this little reflection on St. Francis was placed by the Lord in the

hearts of Lourdes and Maria H. upon learning of the Jubilee Year granted to

us as a result of the 800th anniversary of St. Francis’s “Passing.” Francis is

not just a saint to admire; he is a man consumed by the fire of the Gospel,

capable of rekindling in each of us the desire for a new life in the Spirit.

I recall the words Pope Leo spoke to inaugurate this year of grace: “our sister

death,” quoting St. Francis on October 3, 1226, as he approached her as a

man finally at Peace. Eight centuries have passed since the passing of the

Little Poor Man of Assisi. At the beginning of his evangelical life, he had felt a

call: “The Lord revealed to me that we should say this greeting: May the Lord

grant you peace.” With these words, he conveys to his brothers and to every

believer the inner wonder that the Gospel had brought into his existence:

Peace is the sum of all God’s gifts, a gift that descends from on high.

It is the same greeting that the Risen Lord addressed to his disciples, who

were frightened in the Upper Room on Easter evening: “Peace be with you”

(John 20:19). I continue quoting Pope Leo: “Dear brothers and sisters, may

the example and spiritual legacy of this saint—strong in Faith, firm in Hope,

and ardent in Charity—inspire us all.”

From my littleness, I would like to share with you my meditation of

thanksgiving on the life of St. Francis and how the Simple Path to Union with

God is the means that the Spirit and my Mother Mary have given me to

deepen my understanding and to seek to embody the highlights of the life of

my father, St. Francis, which have drawn me since my youth. Rather than

seeing him as an unattainable saint, I have always seen him as a “witness” to

what it means to embody the poor and crucified Christ.

If I had to briefly summarize the aspects that particularly captivated his heart, I

would mention three: The poor Christ of the manger, “The Incarnation of the

Son of God”; The poor Christ of the Cross, “The Passion and Death of the Lord”; and the poor Christ of the altar, “Christ in the Eucharist” (St. Francis himself invites his family: “I therefore beg all of you, my brothers,

kissing your feet, and with all the love I am capable of, to show all the

reverence and honor you can to the Most Holy Body and Blood of our Lord

Jesus Christ, in which all things were made peaceful, both in heaven and on

earth…) without forgetting, either, the love for our Mother, of whom he

considered himself her troubadour.

I will focus on a single aspect of his life, so as to go a little beyond the

anecdotes or stories that have become popular. The moment of his

conversion. Following the Lord Jesus on the path of humility and poverty. We

have been blessed with two retreats given to the Community, through

Lourdes, on these two virtues: the 2020 retreat: “Levels of Humility (the first

nail of our interior crucifixion)” and the 2021 retreat: “The Virtue of Poverty.”

What do we mean when we speak of conversion? It is a question that

deserves to be asked and answered honestly by each one of us.

In the Lenten meditations of the Papal Household, we are given these

definitions, which can shed light on the matter: the return to God after having

strayed into sin, the need for penitential practices that discipline the body and

the will…. Scripture uses a term that cuts through and transcends all of this:

“metanoia”—a change of mind, of heart, of the very way we perceive reality.

Not a simple correction of the course of our lives, but a transformation of our

gaze. Not merely a revision of behaviors, but a radical change in sensibility.

(Does this ring a bell, my brothers and sisters? “I am making all things new”

Revelation 21:5

.... (These words of Jesus are a biblical promise, and they appear 20 times in

13 messages given by the Lord to our Community). Conversion takes place in

the innermost part of the heart, where the image of God imprinted within us

awaits awakening. It is as if something, kept silent for a long time, suddenly begins to vibrate again. Conversion is, above all, God’s initiative, in which we are called to participate. It is neither pure passivity nor pure conquest. It is a response. Would you be My victim soul? May the vocation to be a victim soul be kindled in me, my Lord, with the fire of Your love.

Francis, in his testament, writes in this way: “The Lord granted me, Francis, to begin doing penance in this way. When I was in sins, it seemed bitter to me to look at the lepers; and the Lord Himself led me among them, and I showed mercy to them.” It is God who enabled him to begin doing penance—that is, to embark on a path of conversion. This doing of penance is a new way of looking at oneself, at others, and at reality in the light of the Gospel. This change begins in a very concrete way when he starts to show mercy to others, forgetting himself for the first time. His gaze shifted from self-centeredness to the “Other”.

To understand why conversion must be so radical, we must probe the depth of

the furrow that sin has dug within us (...But in order for humility to kill the deep-

roots of self-love, pride, and vanity in a soul, she must come to My Cross

for her heart to be plowed with My thorns and wounds. #26 of The Simple

Path. That rupture between who we truly are and who we would like to be

(Romans 7:15-18). Fear and shame are the first fruits of sin. They are not

superficial emotions; we feel within ourselves a rift between who I desire to be

and who I discover I am. We live in a time when the word “sin” seems to have

almost disappeared from our thinking; everything is explained as fragility, a

wound, a limitation, conditioning, a small mistake, or a weakness. Our faith

takes sin seriously. It means recognizing that within us there is a real wound

that cannot be resolved with a few adjustments, but rather requires deep

healing. On page 53 of The Simple Path, this reflection is included:

Where did Francis’s journey to Christ begin? It began with the gaze of the crucified Jesus. With letting Jesus look at us at the very moment that he gives his life for us and draws us to Himself. Francis experienced this in a special way in the Church of San Damiano, as he prayed before the cross, which I, too, will have an opportunity to venerate. On that cross, Jesus is depicted not as dead but alive! Blood is flowing from His wounded hands, feet, and side, but that blood speaks of life.  Jesus’ eyes are not closed but open, wide open: he looks at us in a way that touches our hearts. The cross does not speak to us about defeat and failure; paradoxically, it speaks to us about a death which is life, a death which gives life, for it speaks to us of love, the love of God incarnate, a love which does not die, but triumphs over evil and death. When we let the crucified Jesus gaze upon us, we are re-created; we become a “new creation”.

Francis of Assisi is known on this path of conversion for having embraced

radical poverty; his love for poverty is never separated from a deep esteem for

humility. In the Earlier Rule he writes: “All the brothers should strive to follow

the humility and poverty of our Lord Jesus Christ,” and in the Salutation to the

Virtues he writes: “holy poverty confounds greed and avarice and the cares of

the century (world). Holy humility confounds pride and all men who are in the world.”

Francis does not romanticize this; in poverty and humility, he recognizes the

very traits of God, which we are called to live because we were created in his

image and likeness. The gesture of the ashes with which we enter Lent:

“Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Do you recall the

words that Lourdes shared with us, with which she wanted to live this Lent?) is

not an invitation to sadness or self-contempt; that is false humility. It is the way

in which the Church brings us back to our most authentic selves, freeing us

from what we are not.

Humility is not simply a virtue conquered by the will. It is rather a way of life. It

is the fruit of an experience, often marked by humiliations, that reduces the

inflated image we have of ourselves and brings us back to the truth. It is a gift

of the Spirit rather than an ascetic exercise. Jesus knew this so well that he

made humility the only quality he asked us to imitate throughout the Gospel:

“Learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart” (Matthew 11:29). In

that Word, he summed up his entire way of being in the world.

Nov. 16, 2010 …Come, My daughter, and bring many to the foot of the Cross. Prostrate yourselves before the foot of My Cross and kiss holy ground. Rise and embrace My precious feet and kiss My wounded feet. It is here, through this gesture of humility and love, that the plank of pride and self-love is removed from blinding your sight... It is here at My precious feet that you receive the gold of precious repentance. I desire for you to bring My sons to the foot of My Cross…

Dec 12, 2011… The soul that lives wrapped in the gift of knowledge grows in true humility and then is able to advance in My path on the wings of the Holy Spirit. At times, you fall and have setbacks, but do not get discouraged, for these falls are meant to help keep you wrapped in the gift of knowledge, the gift of knowing that you can do NOTHING without the grace of God. 

Dec. 20, 2024… My little one, you desire solely to be one with Me, your beloved Spouse, so it is only natural that your desire to be poor also grows in your heart, for I became poor so that you could be rich… The path to becoming pure and possessing angelic hearts, whose gaze never leaves Me, is through poverty–– the renunciation of self-love... 

It is a treasure and an outpouring of love from our Lord, the formation He has

chosen to entrust to us regarding the virtues of humility and poverty…it is a

blessing and a clear lesson for my soul to pray with so many messages on

these two virtues. Humility and poverty are rooted in perfect contrition.

Finally, Saint Francis was a man thirsting for fulfillment: he sought glory,

pursued his dreams, and longed to live life to the fullest. All his life he had

tried to become greater: a successful merchant, a knight, a man of prestige,

but none of these aspirations gave him what he sought. When, instead, he

finds himself face to face with someone smaller than himself, the unexpected

happens: his true greatness emerges. Not through conquest, but through an

embrace. Not by rising up, but by bending down.

Francis understands that in the world created by God, the privileged place

belongs to the little ones. The little ones, with their fragility, awaken mercy,

which is perhaps the most precious energy in the world. That is why the poor

man of Assisi asks his brothers to call themselves “lesser brothers,” not to

appear more humble, but to truly live as little ones. Men and women who do

not take up all the space, but open it up to others.

Jesus, in the Gospel, places great emphasis on littleness as a condition for

entering the Kingdom of Heaven. He compared the Kingdom of Heaven to a

small seed, yet one capable of becoming a great tree that shelters birds in its

branches. He explained to the disciples that only those who become as small

as a child can enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Moreover, whoever wishes to be

great must become small and become a servant to all.

It fills my heart with such tenderness to hear how our Lord addresses Lourdes

in all His messages: “My little one.” To us, His community, He says: “My little

mustard seed,” and when He speaks to us to form us, He reminds us that we

are His anawim! What a blessing!

When we choose to become—not to remain—little because we have

recognized the littleness of God, who also looks upon the littleness of His

Servant Mary, then this choice to become little is not a renunciation; it is the

face of the new man, which the mystery of Redemption restores to us. Peace,

Goodness, and Holy Joy, my dearest MOC and MC.