Brother Masseo once asked St. Francis, “Why after thee, Francis?” Why, Francis, does everyone follow you? Even after centuries, this question continues to be asked. Why do we still speak about this little man who possessed neither the pride of power nor the glamour of worldly prestige?
In an age captivated by wealth, power, and material progress, St. Francis of Assisi stands as a timeless witness to the beauty of simplicity, the dignity of the poor, and the sacredness of all creation. Yet the values he embodied stand in stark contrast to the priorities that shape our world today. Consumerism, communalism that drains religion of its spirituality, blind faith in technology, scientism propagated in the name of science, a capitalist ethic that subordinates everything to profit, the glorification of violence, and the commercialization of art and culture all characterize our present age. Even artificial intelligence is increasingly drawn into this disturbing pattern of exploitation. Against this backdrop, the life and message of St. Francis speak to us with renewed urgency. He viewed the Gospel through the eyes of the poor and the oppressed and translated its teachings into the concrete realities of his own life.
Pope Leo XIV has stated that the purpose of the Franciscan Jubilee is to demonstrate that the way of life embraced by St. Francis eight hundred years ago remains possible in contemporary society. This Jubilee year reminds us that simplicity of life, complete surrender to Divine Providence, and authentic Christian witness are timeless values. The Jubilee is not merely an occasion to remember the past; it is an invitation to recognize that the Gospel-inspired simplicity of Francis continues to speak powerfully to the Church and the modern world.
St. Francis was a saint close to the hearts of ordinary people. Yet it is remarkable that nearly eight centuries passed before a Pope chose his name. This happened in 2013, when Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio was elected Pope and took the name Francis. His choice expressed a profound affinity with St. Francis, who embraced poverty, humility, and complete trust in God. A deep bond unites St. Francis of Assisi and Pope Francis, who sought to embody these same ideals in his own distinctive way through his concern for the poor, trust in God’s mercy, commitment to the renewal of the Church, and care for all creation. Pope Francis’s encyclical Laudato Si’ is deeply rooted in the spirituality and thought of St. Francis of Assisi. Its very title is taken from the opening words of the saint’s Canticle of the Creatures. Pope Francis points out that St. Francis did not regard creation merely as a collection of natural resources to be exploited, but as a family of creatures united in a relationship of brotherhood and sisterhood. He also emphasizes that ecological problems cannot be separated from social problems. Environmental destruction, poverty, inequality, economic systems, culture, politics, and everyday human behaviour are all interconnected. The encounter between St. Francis and the leper, too, reveals spirituality rooted in relationships and fraternity. In his book Living Our Future: St. Francis of Assisi and the Church Tomorrow, the Swiss Jesuit Mario von Galli argues that the renewal of the Church must come through the little man of Assisi. The Brazilian theologian Leonardo Boff, meanwhile, observes that Francis is not merely a name but a way of taking a stand.
Eight hundred years have passed since St. Francis of Assisi composed the Canticle of the Sun. During these centuries, the earth has undergone profound transformations, and humanity has made extraordinary advances in science, technology, and industry. Yet modern human beings have also developed a troubling tendency to turn a blind eye to reality and evade responsibility, even when they know the consequences of their actions. Unlike Cain, who led Abel into the field and killed him, people today may not need to take their brothers and sisters into a field to destroy them. Yet the voices of their brothers and sisters among animals and plants continue to cry out from the earth, just as Abel’s blood cried out in Cain’s time. Our response has scarcely changed. In an age of genetic engineering, nuclear energy, space travel, and artificial intelligence, we are steadily losing our awareness of the bonds of fraternity that unite all creation.
Through the Canticle of the Sun, St. Francis seeks to restore these broken bonds of fraternity. He invites us to recognize the sun, moon, air, water, fire, and earth as our brothers and sisters. In his vision, human beings and the natural world belong to one family because they share the same Creator. Their relationship with the Creator binds them inseparably to one another. The Canticle of the Sun, therefore, is far more than a hymn celebrating the extraordinary beauty of creation. It is a call to humanity to treat the whole of creation with reverence, respect, and care. For Francis, every creature speaks to us of God. Everything becomes a word through which the Creator reveals something of himself. The universe, in both its unity and its diversity, becomes a sacramental sign of God’s presence. To love God’s creation is inseparable from loving God himself. Francis offers us a clear direction for our times: we must rediscover the intrinsic value of the created world, refuse to reduce creation to an instrument of economic gain, and embrace sustainable ways of living that safeguard the planet for future generations.
What message would Francis offer humanity today through his life and the Canticle of the Sun? It is a message of fraternity and responsibility. Everything in heaven and on earth has its origin in the Creator. Through him, all things are united as brothers and sisters and entrusted with the task of living together in peaceful coexistence. Francis urges us to recognize and honour the Creator in every living being. From this perspective, our efforts to protect the environment must become more determined and more united. Those who oppose environmental pollution only when it threatens their own neighbourhoods, or who exploit nature merely to secure their own survival, fail to recognize the intrinsic value of other living beings. For them, creation becomes nothing more than an object to be used. For Francis, however, protecting the environment begins with acknowledging the fraternity between humanity and nature. This fraternity awakens a sense of responsibility that reaches beyond personal interests and extends to the whole world. Our failure to love the living world reflects a failure to love its Creator. Whenever a species of animal or plant disappears through human ignorance and irresponsibility, a part of creation is lost. In his Canticle of the Sun, Francis celebrates the beauty of creation and glorifies its Creator by addressing not only human beings but also the elements and creatures of the universe as “brother” and “sister”. Such a vision was extraordinary for its time. While calling our fellow human beings brothers and sisters comes naturally, Francis extended these terms to the whole of creation. This reveals that his love for creation was not merely an abstract idea or a poetic sentiment. It was a lived reality, grounded in an authentic sense of fraternity. Our relationships with other human beings and the natural world, together with the choices we make in everyday life, must therefore move us beyond lofty ideals and romantic sentiments towards concrete and responsible action.
Francis called the poverty he freely embraced “Lady Poverty”. At its deepest level, this way of life means choosing simplicity and moderation. What has been entrusted to us is not ours to exploit without restraint; it is a gift that calls for responsible stewardship and loving care. Such stewardship requires us to nurture our relationships with all people and with everything around us. Francis lived this conviction in its most radical form. He embraced extreme poverty with an almost childlike simplicity and a humble closeness to the earth. He lived among lepers, who were among the most despised and marginalized members of society, and shared his food with them. Francis did not set out to criticize the Pope or the Church. Instead, he desired to become a novellus pazzus, a “new kind of madman”, a fool who would embrace the simplicity of the Gospel without reservation. Like Christ, who became poor for our sake, Francis embodied a kind of holy madness that expressed complete freedom: the freedom to be nothing in the eyes of the world and to possess nothing, without power, pretension, or the desire for recognition. The words “I need little; I do not want much” aptly capture the spirit of his life. He renounced every title and regarded himself as foolish, poor, wretched, lowly, and simple.
Francis teaches us that the Bible is not merely a book to be read from beginning to end; it is the living Word of God, meant to be embodied in our daily lives. We may read and study the Scriptures, but their deepest meaning becomes clear only when we allow them to shape our thoughts, choices, and actions. Just as the genius of Mozart’s compositions is fully experienced when they are performed and heard, the richness of God’s Word cannot be fully grasped until it becomes a living melody that guides our lives. St. Francis of Assisi reminds us that the Gospel is not simply to be read, understood, or admired. It is to be lived. Perhaps this is the answer to Brother Masseo’s question: “Why after thee, Francis?” People continue to follow Francis because he did not merely speak about the Gospel; he allowed the Gospel to become his life. In a world burdened by the pursuit of power, wealth, and endless consumption, his witness continues to invite us to rediscover the freedom of simplicity, the joy of fraternity, and the beauty of a life wholly surrendered to God.
Fr. Alex Kizhakekadavil Ofm Cap
