These images are from Roberto Rossellini's The Flowers of St. Francis (1950). I love how it shows St. Francis with the trees, the flowers, and the birds. St. Francis was a very humble man. He found joy in the small wonders and miracles of daily life. I am not religious, but I am deeply connected to the sacred. I think it is this sacredness that we have lost sight of in the modern world. We have lost our way.
Later on in the film, Rossellini dramatizes the life-changing encounter St. Francis had with a leper. St. Francis embraces the man and then falls to the ground, calling out to God. It's a moment in which he is transformed by witnessing—and tending to—the suffering of another.
Mortified and disgusted by leprosy, Francis may have wished to pass by on the other side of the road. But God’s still, small voice told him to stop, reach out, and embrace the man with leprosy.
Both the man with leprosy and Francis were transformed in that moment.
I think a major issue with modern life is that we are seeing unprecedented amounts of suffering all over the world, but few of us are being changed by it. We can hardly process it. We scroll by the suffering, feeling powerless. Our encounter with the pain of another does not lead to any meaningful action or change in the situation. We don't know what to do.
There was something moving about this scene because it is one man embracing another, touching another, not turning away from what he has been taught to fear. In the leper, St. Francis sees God. He no longer sees a leper—he sees a human being worthy of care. The encounter would also have major ripple effects in St. Francis's life:
Francis’ embrace of the leper was not an isolated instance. No, his ministry to lepers would only expand. Francis would go down to the colony of lepers two miles below Assisi, outside the city walls. Francis and other friars continued to minister to the lepers, feeding them, while also caring for and kissing their wounds. This became an ongoing ministry for Francis and the friars.
All quotes are from Franciscan Media
"Long Distance II" by Tony Harrison
Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.
You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.
He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.
I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call.
Source: Poets.org