Poverty and Abundance
Lessons from Francis of Assisi
For his whole life possessions had possessed Francis, especially clothing and fashion. His addiction to finery was like a prison, even more confining than the dungeon where he had languished for a year after a battle with nearby Perugia. His father had taken him to court for selling the family fabrics to rebuild the church. Now he must give an account.
Bishop Guido pronounced sentence on Francis, calling him to return everything that belonged to his father. At that moment, the chains fell off. A spirit of materialism departed from Francis. He had brought all the money he’d been collecting for the church. But he wanted to do more. In a radical act of freedom from material possessions, Francis stripped out of the extravagant garments he so adored. Folding them neatly and placing the bag of money on top, he handed these things to Bishop Guido.
This event was witnessed by everyone in Assisi who had come to see the trial. It was more than just street theater. This was a kind of exorcism. A spirit of materialism and addiction to fashion left Francis and in that moment he experienced a new sort of abundance. A prophetic contentment with simplicity.
Income inequality is growing in our world. Between March 2020 and February of 2022 the world’s 10 wealthiest individuals grew their wealth by $15,000 per second. During that same period 160 million more individuals were forced into poverty. Consumerism and materialism is driving the wealth gap in our world. As we consider our part in the income gap, what possessions do you suspect possess you? Are there things you might consider giving away or sharing communally with others?
For those born into families of material abundance, like Francis, the journey of following Jesus often looks like moving toward material simplicity; breaking free from the possessions which have possessed you. For others, those coming from poorly resourced communities, it may require building material security for friends and family who’ve been trapped in generational poverty. But for Francis, the newfound joy he experienced in abandoning his lavish, consumptive lifestyle, looked attractive to the rich friends with whom he used to party. There was a spirit of abundance in Francis now that was even more of a draw than the latest fashion.
His first followers
The first of Francis’ fellow rakes who followed him were Bernard Quntavalle and Peter Catanio. Bernard was the son of a noblemen and he invited Francis to come to his palatial manor to help him understand this strange, new life Francis was living.
Francis’ words were simple, and his joy was compelling. The next day Bernard and Peter came with Francis to church to ask Jesus what they should do. “God’s will is revealed in God’s word,” they decided. So they opened the gospels of Jesus three times to random passages.
The first passage the gospels fell open to was Matthew 19. Verse 21 drew their attention. “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
On their second attempt, the gospels opened to the sending of the 12 in Luke 9. “Take nothing for the journey—no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra shirt.”
Finally, they allowed the book to randomly open a third time. Mark chapter 8 lay before them. “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.”
It was as though Bernard and Peter were hearing the voice of Jesus just as Francis had in San Damiano. They would leave it all behind: the wealth, the fashion, the fine living. Bernard and Peter joined Francis in his work of restoring the broken-down chapel of San Damiano, and shortly thereafter, begin tending to the needs of the lepers around Assisi.
Much later, when there were thousands imitating Francis’ lifestyle of simplicity and service, a widow approached Francis. Both of her sons had become Franciscans and she had no means of support.
“What do we have to give our mother?” Francis asked. He often referred to older women as “mother.” Peter Catiano, who served the community by managing the meager resources they got by begging or physical labor said, “We have nothing, Francis. We’ve given everything away. All we have is the lectionary we use for our devotions.”
A book like that was worth a good bit in the thirteenth century. “Give it to our mother,” Francis told Peter, “so she can sell it. Jesus would rather she live than we read from it.” The woman sold the book and received enough from it to live off of for years.
For Francis, the lived Gospel was just as valuable as the written Gospel.
Shortly after Bernard and Peter joined Francis, a teenage girl who had grown up in one of the wealthiest families of Assisi asked to join Francis. Her name was Clare, and she founded a parallel order of female Franciscans known as the Poor Clares. Both these orders embraced poverty as the more abundant way to live. We would do well to learn from them.