Ending the old and beginning the new with St Francis
New Year in Assisi — a fourth pilgrimage to my spiritual home, deepening connections with St Francis, St Rita, the Portiuncula, San Damiano, and an unexpected materialisation of the Master Kuthumi at the Basilica of St Mary of the Angels. (10 min read)
I spent most of new year’s day travelling from Catania, Sicily to Assisi in Umbria. I used the transit time to revisit some of the station churches in Rome (St Maria Maggiore; Scala Sancta; St Giovanni Laterano; Sancta Croce in Gesthemane).
It is surreal that I have not been in Italy since 2018. My plan was to arrive and depart from Rome, spend Christmas in Calabria with friends, have a week or so in Sicily and a few days in Assisi. I knew St Francis would be with me all the way but what a rollercoaster I have been riding these last days.
The first thing I did in Rome was make a prayer at Il Gesu Church where St Ignatius of Loyola is buried. I am instantly at home in this holy place. Even after 5 years, it is so familiar to me that I must put in an extra effort to not take it for granted. As I close my eyes I am completely at peace – simultaneously in the present and re-experiencing past visits to this place and to Loyola, Goa and Abadiania. My prayers of gratitude become more expansive as I recall my loved ones, particularly my late grandmother, and all those connected to St Ignatius. I revisit the room where St Ignatius died and spend a little time in the small museum with artefacts that connect me instantly to Inigo’s story – his shoes, his painting of the Holy Family and John the Baptist, and the sculpture of his head made from his death mask.
I visited the Vatican but only made a brief visit to St Peter’s Basilica because I was so very moved by a new statue dedicated to migrants and refugees in the main square. This sculpture enlivens Pope Francis’ teachings of fraternity. Created by Canadian artist Timothy Schmalz, the statue depicts 140 life-sized migrants and refugees on a raft. It is beautifully rendered and heart-wrenching.
My trip to Calabria unexpectedly began with a visit to the sanctuary of St Francesco di Paola (1416-1507). It is a pilgrimage site for those dedicated to this saint. It is said that Francesco’s conception and life was due to the intercession of Francis of Assisi. After pilgrimaging to Assisi with his parents, Francesco became a contemplative hermit in a remote cave near Paola. He attracted followers and later received approval from the Pope to found the Hermits of St Francis (later called “Minims”).
Just like the Franciscans, the Hermits took vows of poverty, chastity and obedience but also an additional obligation of perpetual Lenten fast.
Francesco di Paola was guided to use his psychic gifts of miracles, healing and prophecy in the world and ceased to be a hermit.
I had heard of Francesco from my Calabrian friends but I knew nothing about his connection to Francis of Assisi. Any doubt about this relationship was lifted as I walked towards the sanctuary and noticed the materialisation of both of these saints in the sky above the church.
My family Christmas in Cosenza was lovely and followed by a few days in Taormina, Sicily. Unfortunately, I got sick in Catania and spent a couple of days in bed staring at the angels on the ceiling of my palazzo. But I woke up on new year’s day with a clear head and a lot of excitement about returning to Assisi.
It was a long journey to Assisi. I left Catania just after 5.30am and was finally in the taxi to my lodgings in Assisi by early evening. I chose to stay in a different convent this trip – Istituto Beata Angelina – which is located directly opposite the Basilica of St Francis. The nuns are lovely and were understanding about unexpected changes of plans. After checking out the beautiful view from my room, I was off to the basilica and then a walk around the town.
There is no snow in Assisi this year, but it is cold and very festive. I was not surprised to see two huge nativity scenes close to the basilica – one on the grass in front of the upper basilica, and one in the square adjacent to the lower basilica. Each is very different but with incredibly lifelike, masterfully executed statues.
At Christmas, Assisi is full of Italian families walking from the basilica to the Piazza del Commune in the evenings past the shops that are stylishly decorated. Each decoration is different but all involve a pine tree dressed up with red chiffon fabric and ribbons and simple fairy lights. The clothing stores twist the red cloth into a dress, the gift stores into red bows, etc.
After the chaos of Sicily and a challenging commute, Assisi feels so peaceful and beautiful, despite the crowds. I sleep very soundly and look forward to a convent breakfast.
I wanted my fourth visit to Assisi to be even deeper than past visits.
I spent January 2 at the Basilica of San Francesco and the Basilica of Santa Chiara – taking my time to pray, immerse myself in the energy and look more closely at the relics, artefacts and artworks. I walked my favourite streets and ate my favourite things at my favourite places. It was the perfect beginning to the year.
And when Dolly, a dear friend’s dog, died unexpectedly, I was able to return to the Basilica and ask St Francis for help with her grief. You can’t make this stuff up.
I did not plan to return to Cascia this trip. It is expensive to hire a driver but that is the only way to do it if you are time poor and do not have a car. I decided spontaneously that a day in Cascia was a good way to honour and support dear friends who are devoted to St Rita.
Things were a little different in Cascia. For whatever reason, there were no nuns on duty at St Rita’s casket. And there were changes at the convent too – the artefacts had been moved and were not accessible until after a very, very long speech (in Italian).
The sun finally came out on January 4 and I knew it was going to be a big day. I walked down to the valley where the Basilica of St Mary of the Angels is located. It is a beautiful walk through fields and gardens on a path that is paved with the names of pilgrims and donors. Looking behind, one sees an awesome view of the Basilica of San Francesco on the hill. I listened to my San Francesco meditation music as I walked to the Portiuncula (as the little church inside the Basilica of St Mary of the Angels is called) and was filled with such lightness.
The tradition is that 1 August 1216, Jesus, Mary and some angels appeared to Francis in the Portiuncula. He asked for indulgences to be granted to all pilgrims who visited the church and this was granted by Jesus and the following day agreed by the Pope. Known as the “Pardon of Assisi”, the pilgrim must experience confession, communion and pray for the Pope’s intentions to obtain this indulgence.
This Basilica houses both the Portiuncula and the spot on which Francis died.
As I got closer to the Basilica of St Mary of the Angels, I heard a voice in my head (or had the knowing perhaps) that if I took a picture of the front of the church as soon as I got there, St Francis would materialise for me. In retrospect, this should not have been surprising because I had been thinking I would like a very clear spirit photo of St Francis.
The courtyard of the Basilica had a lovely nativity scene. I resisted the temptation to focus on it and instead took the photo of the church as I had been instructed. And the photo was more spectacular than I could have imagined. There is a clear materialisation of a beautiful bearded man which most people will presume is Jesus. However, I am certain that it is the Master Kuthumi, the last incarnation of St Francis of Assisi. What a blessing!
I spent quite a bit of time inside the Basilica, praying in the Portiuncula and beside the spot that marks Francis’ passing. I made many of the prayers from my book about Francis, prayed for peace in the world, for those who love Francis and for the filho. It was beautiful.
Walking back to the convent and listening to my music, I felt so in love with all God’s creation and also a little relieved about the sign from heaven that so plainly indicated I was on the right track – people really are ready to know about the other lives of Francis.
With Mount Subiaso in front of me, I thought about my first visit to Assisi and the way that Francis materialised for me in the hermitage on that mountain. I needed to go there next and so continued walking all the way up that mountain to where Francis retreated to pray, the tree marking his preaching to the birds and some of the most beautiful sculptures of the saint. I had a lovely visit and felt complete until I began descending the mountain and saw the Church of San Damiano. There was no doubt I needed to return there too, walking through the olive groves and farms once more. I love, love, love the Church of San Damiano. I spent about a blissful hour appreciating the history, art and the energy of this sacred space.
My perfect pilgrimage ended, as it began, with heartfelt prayers at the Basilica of San Francesco. There is nowhere I would rather be.
© Paul McCarthy & Iluminar.au
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