Showing posts with label Assisi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Assisi. Show all posts

2 October 2013

Saint Francis of Assisi

San Francesco d'Assisi 



This is a story about a boy. 



Not just any boy. A particular boy.  He could have been a girl.  He could have been you.  Or me.  Or no one.  But he wasn't.  He was special.....


His father was a business man, named Bernadone.  His business was importing cloth, and selling it.  He was rich, and traded with Avignon, in France.  Which was why he called his son Francesco, or Francis.



He came from Assisi, in the heart of Italy, and had warehouses full of fine cloth from France there.  And so his son grew up.  Under blue skies and sunshine. Wanting for nothing.




They had all they could eat:


All they could drink:

Luxuries of all kinds.  Welcome in the finest restaurants.


And as Francesco became a young man he became something of a playboy.  He had time on his hands:

Fluted Bezel

Like many rich young men, then as now, he led a life of pleasure:  "La dolce vita" some would call it.  Carefree.  Hedonistic.  Spoiled.  Thoughtless.  Careless.



Though one day Francesco noticed a beggar.  He didn't do anything,  But he noticed, and the image etched itself on his mind.


It didn't stop him enjoying the fruits of his father's wealth.  Playing with style.  Having fine friends.


Living life in the fast lane.

Until a war broke out with a neighbouring city state, and Francesco was called up.


Then he was captured.

And imprisoned.



And this was the turning point.  He became ill and the image of the beggar grew in his mind until it took over.  He realised that his ways had been worthless, and so, when released due to ill health he returned to his father's home and denounced all his wealth.  He went to rebuild a ruined chapel just outside Assisi;

And, to his parents' horror, and his friends' incredulity, he took to helping the lepers and the lame.

And so, having made the decision not to indulge himself in the ways of his patrimony, he took instead as example the life of Jesus Christ, and his life took on meaning, and purpose.



He travelled.  And in the town of Gubbio he met, and tamed, a fierce wolf that had been troubling the people.


And his activities began to be talked about.  He gathered followers.

He moved into remote places in central Italy, in the mountains, where he and his followers lived very simply.  He dressed in a rough tunic, tied with a cord; and he went barefoot.  Francis seemed to have an especially good rapport with animals and his gentle and sympathetic approach to all creatures became a talking point. By 1217 he had many followers, not only in Italy, and his movement was becoming a Religious Order (Pope Innocent III had authorised Francis and eleven companions to be roving preachers - but Francis never became a priest).  In 1224, while praying at the Sanctuary of La Verna, there appeared on his body scars which resembled the wounds of the crucified Christ.  The 'stigmata.'


His order was accepted by the Pope and the 'Friars Minor' or 'Lesser Brothers' were formed.  In the years following his death in 1226 his legend was embellished and the great basilica at Assisi was built (beginning on July 17th 1228, the day after Pope Gregory IX pronounced Francis a Saint), to be decorated by the greatest artists, including Giotto, Cimabue, Simone Martini and Pietro Lorenzetti..


The basilica, which is really two churches on top of each other, houses some of Italy's finest frescos telling the story of the life of St Francis.  It was very badly damaged in an earthquake on September 26th 1997, but it has been successfully restored to its former glory.


Assisi itself is now a place of pilgrimage. On June 18th, 1939, St Francis was named by Pope Pius XII to be joint patron saint of Italy with Catherine of Siena.  Francis's feast day is observed on October 4th.
The panels on the walls of the upper Basilica, painted by Giotto, depict the life and legend of the saint. 


The following picture of St Francis receiving the stigmata was painted in 1596 by Lodovico Cardi Cigoli, and is to be seen in the Uffizi Gallery, Florence.


The death of St Francis, as portrayed by Giotto in Santa Croce, Florence.


In modern times, the life and work of St Francis has been the subject of a number of films:





And the Christmas tradition of presenting the birth of Jesus in three dimensions owes much to St Francis:

As in 1223 he organised the people of the village of Greccio, near Rieti, to bring the event to life in what is now known as a "Presepe (or Presepio) Vivente" -  which means a living crib - with local people taking the parts of Mary, Joseph, the Wise Men and so on, and local animals playing themselves.  This is now a common part of village life throughout Italy.


And the name Francesco, or Francis, or Frank, is often chosen to link the child with the saint.  Here is one of Italy's most famous footballers - Francesco Totti, in Roma strip:



Or you could think of Frank Sinatra, Frankie Dettori, Francis Ford Coppola.... And here is a recent Pope. Though not Italian, he is the first Pope to adopt the name of Italy's favourite saint:


In fact there is a striking resemblance to the face in the painting of St Francis by Cimabue, to be found in the Lower Basilica at Assisi.  They could almost be related.




St Francis left a mark on Italy and on the world.  His story, which is not dissimilar to that of Gautama, the Buddha, inspires people to this day, and his writings and recorded thoughts are similarly effective.  In the English language one of the most popular hymns is based on what is known as The Prayer of Saint Francis, though almost certainly Francis did not compose it.  Make me a channel of your peace......  If you wish you could watch Susan Boyle singing it for five minutes on youtube, though for me the following video is infinitely preferable:

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GZTNVoNPmrA



 O Signore, fa' di me uno strumento della tua Pace:
Dove è odio, fa' ch'io porti l'Amore.
Dove è offesa, ch'io porti il Perdono.
Dove è discordia, ch'io porti l'Unione.
Dove è dubbio, ch'io porti la Fede.
Dove è errore, ch'io porti la Verità.
Dove è disperazione, ch'io porti la Speranza.
Dove è tristezza, ch'io porti la Gioia.
Dove sono le tenebre, ch'io porti la Luce.
O Maestro, fa' ch'io non cerchi tanto:
Essere consolato, quanto consolare.
Essere compreso, quanto comprendere.
Essere amato, quanto amare.
Poiché è Dando, che si riceve;
Perdonando, che si è perdonati;
Morendo, che si resuscita a Vita Eterna


This story of an Italian boy informs us all. 
 
 




27 August 2012

Umbria I - Assisi

The Heart of Italy - Part I


La Basilica di San Francesco, Assisi

On September 26th, 1997, starting at 2.30am, Italy suffered a series of heart attacks.  The furred up arteries of her heartland were racked with shocks which caused devastation in and around Assisi, the home town of St Francis, patron saint of Italy.  The great basilica, with Giotto’s 13th century frescos of the life of the saint, was seriously damaged and much of the vaulted ceilings fell in ruins.  In the neighbouring hills, monasteries and villages were ravaged and, as with a serious cardiac arrest, there was fear, pain, and death.


The Cloister of the Basilica of St Francis



Fortunately the paramedics, doctors and nurses worked tirelessly and brilliantly and the green heart of Italy is still beating.  Some might even say its health has been improved, and like a reformed smoker, Assisi is pink and shiny, clean and bright, getting up early to greet the day and still having the energy to stay up late at night.  The basilica is in top condition, and the miraculous cycle of frescos has been restored for all to admire, so we can still see young Frank handing his father his fine clothes in the presence of the Bishop, and the remarkable proportions and movements of the doves, quails and sparrows coming to feed from his careworn hands.


Reflections on St Francis

Some say, however, there has been an element of Disneyfication, so that Assisi, with its crowds, is more a medieval theme park than a living museum.  It’s too smart and shiny, and, again like some reformed smokers, there’s a zealous cleanness about it that doesn’t quite convince.  In fact, the town is craving for a puff of smoke, a taint of tawdriness in the darker corners, and that touch of danger that comes from risky practice.


Tempting goodies to catch the eye

You can sense the tensions in the shop windows – a material world of glittering creations is on sale here, from plaster Saints to enticing cakes; figurines for cribs to hand-painted pottery.  On the steps of the great church of Santa Chiara a group of brothers wait for opening time, their watches and mobile phones not quite in keeping with their simple habits and sandals.



On the steps of Santa Chiara

For me there’s interest in these contradictions, but I tend to prefer the other places, not quite so pretty, not quite so frequented.  However, I am not complaining – Assisi is a wonder; a treasure trove of medieval art and architecture, from the imposing Rocca Maggiore that dominates the hill to the cloisters of San Damiano below.  And you do not have to wander far up the stony veins that lead into the piazza to get away from the swirling, chattering masses, and to find symbolic peace within the walls and gardens.


A Peace Niche within the walls of Assisi

And one special place, not far from Assisi, that also suffered in the landquake, is the Abbey of Sassovivo (living rock – because of the clearwater spring there).  This monastery, which tops a spur on the wooded slopes of 1100m Monte Aguzzo, commands a view across the city of Foligno and up towards Monte Subasio and Assisi. 


The Abbey of Sassovivo, 520 metres above sea level

It was founded by Benedictines around the year 1,000, and was an important centre of scholarship in the fourteenth century, although it went into decline in the fifteenth.  Today it is the home of a small group of The Little Brothers of Jesus, followers of Charles de Foucauld.  It is being lovingly restored, but work is slow.  Central to the complex is a beautiful Romanesque cloister, the work of Pietro De Maria in 1229, who constructed it in Rome to be brought here and assembled. 


Part of the Cloister at Sassovivo

I marvel at the idea of an upmarket medieval Ikea, with the monks choosing the design from a vellum catalogue and a team of donkeys employed to deliver the goods.  It consists of 128 double columns, with 58 arches, around an ornate well (dating from 1340, although redesigned in 1623).  Today the silent shade is skewed, as though the hand of God has lifted and twisted it slightly but left it whole, respecting its integrity and value as a place of contemplation.  A solitary brother studies in the cool.  The coloured marbles, pink limestone and threads of mosaic catch the sunlight and reflect it back to the blue sky.  Nothing stirs, except for a tiny tremor in my heart. 

Il Chiostro - Sassovivo