An Orthodox Christian view of ''Saint'' Francis of Assisi - a post dedicated to the 800th anniversary since his repose
New Concept of Sanctity
So we’ve seen in the Middle Ages the rationalism, logicalness, replacing faith or taking over and shaping now faith, becoming the criteria, romantic elements entering in. And now we come to a very important one which is maybe even more important than Scholasticism, because in the end this will do more to bring about Antichrist than Scholasticism. This is the concept of sanctity which becomes now different from the Orthodox concept of sanctity. And the best example of this is the life of Francis of Assisi.
The fact that this man became so popular, in fact, tremendously popular wherever he went, people went around, acted like Christ Himself coming to them; and they sang and accompanied him. He aroused great enthusiasm, which shows that he was very much in the spirit of his times. But if we look at his life, we see that it is so strange from the Orthodox point of view; and we can say that it’s not at all an Orthodox Life of a Saint.
For one thing, he founded a new manner of life. He invented the rule of poverty because in church one day the Gospel was being preached about poverty, about the Apostles not taking anything with them when they preached, although later on, of course, the Apostles did take with them money and so forth. The first time they went out they went by two’s to the cities preaching to the Jews and took nothing with them. And he heard this in church and became inspired to invent a new rule, a new way of life, a rule of poverty based on the Gospel, as though there was no monastic tradition before him, which there was. And there were many great Saints at this time.
Of course, he could look around, perhaps the monasteries were corrupt and so forth, and he wanted something different. But there’s something already suspicious to think he’s going to do something new, a whole new rule of life, based not on Holy Fathers. And if he didn’t like the recent Latin Fathers, he could have gone back to St. John Cassian, the Egyptian Fathers and so forth, but he didn’t. He went instead to the Gospel, like the Protestants. He went and invented himself a rule of poverty. Nothing special, of course — monks are poor— but he made something special out of it, just as later we’ll see that the Catholics are making something special about the Mother of God as though she’s some kind of unearthly being and so forth.
And he gave it and himself and his followers new names. They were not now to be called just monks, they were the “Penitents of Assisi,” or the “Lord’s Minstrels,” they called themselves, going about singing. So already we see that they think they’re not like previous monks and ascetics, but something new, a new spirit which is very much in accord with the spirit of the times.
There was a time, on Christmas in the year 1223, he decided to celebrate the Nativity in a new manner. And so he reproduced in the church were he was in Italy the stable of Bethlehem. And thus began the so-called devotion to the crib in the Latin Church and around this he had some kind of a play which is beginning of the mystery plays in Italy — and helping thus the rise of the drama. And the drama of course is something which, although it arose from this very same thing, we’re not going to talk about that. The mystery play, which comes from the Liturgy actually, was centred around the Mass and religious themes, and are an adaptation to the new spirit of the times to make religion more interesting, more in accordance with everyday life, more close to the believers, as though Orthodoxy is not enough.
Another aspect of his so-called “sanctity.” One historian of him says, “His very asceticism was often clothed in the guise of romance.” So he woos the Lady Poverty, thinks about her as though she’s a real person, and keeps wooing her, as the bridegroom, and of course about Sister Death and all of these personifications.
And a very typical example of something new which is not at all Orthodox is what happened once when he was sick. He ate meat. And an Orthodox person who isn’t a monk maybe might eat meat during sickness or something. If he did he would feel repentant about it, ask God’s forgiveness, and feel that “I’m no good anyway,” and ask that if He would, God forgive him. But not Francis of Assisi. Instead, he went out to preach to the people. There was a large crowd, thousands of people as usual, and he said, “Stop. Everyone stay here until I come back.” And he went to the church nearby, and he forced two of his disciples to do whatever he told them out of obedience. One of them poured over his head ashes, a bucket full of ashes; the second put a rope around his neck and led him out before the people who were all waiting to see what’s going to happen. And here comes Francis of Assisi led by a rope with ashes on his black head, and he looks at them and says, “You consider me a saint, but I ate meat when I was sick.”
By this, he’s making a public display that “I am really supposed to be very holy, and if I made a mistake I gotta make up for it so they’ll still think I’m holy.” So we see that he’s already playing the role of a holy man who must appear before the people as pure, whereas a genuine holy man would repent, and it’s all the better if people think he’s bad or evil.
Fr. H: Well, here’s a good example: the general fools for Christ’s sake, they do exactly the opposite. They act crazy in order to be put down...
Fr. S: And of course the people who are already having new ideas about sanctity say, “Oh, how humble this man is!” And actually there is fake humility; this is not humility. And in fact the key to his sanctity is pride. He is conscious of himself as being a holy man. He said, “I do not see in myself any sin which I have not expiated by confession and repentance. For the Lord in His mercy has presented me the gift of clearly recognizing at prayer that in which I have been pleasing to Him and that in which I have not been pleasing,” that is, spiritual self-satisfaction. “I’m holy; I’ve sinned but I’ve made up for them by a certain number of penances, and making myself, dragging myself before the people, and now I know that I am pure.”
And we can contrast this with any number of Lives of Orthodox Saints, for example, St. Sisoes, who was preparing to die and then lived for a short time longer because, when his disciples asked him, “Why are you coming back?” he said, “An angel told me I was not ready; I must repent even more.” He’s supposed to have lived a holy life, and he said, “I have tried all my life to please God, and now at the end I do not know whether I have pleased Him or not.” And Francis knows that he pleased God. This is the spirit already of the Pharisee.
At his death-bed Francis says, “Behold, God calls me, and I forgive all my brothers both present and absent their offenses and errors, and I remit their sins in so far as this is in my power.” He was not a priest, so even in that indirect sense, he had no power; that is, he had some kind of recognizing in himself the power of sanctity by which he can remit the sins of people, which is totally un-Orthodox. And his last words were, “I have done what I had to do. I return to God. May He have mercy on you.” That is, “I’m perfect; I’ve done it, I’m finished, I’m perfectly justified.”
Again, typical of this kind of sanctity is an incident in his life when Christ supposedly appeared to him at prayer and offered him whatever favour he might desire. Already this is romance and all fairy tales — three wishes and so forth. But this kind of familiarity of a saint with God is typical of prelest, spiritual deception. And Francis asked, since he was very much burdened with his love for men, that a plenary indulgence be granted to all who confess and visit his chapel, at the centre of his Order. And Christ agreed, but said the Pope must ratify it. The Pope did this. And from that day to this on August Second you can get a plenary indulgence by going to his chapel, receiving confession, which means that you will not have to suffer the temporary or temporal consequences for your sins. A whole new system of indulgences of course is exact already in this thirteenth century; it’s already there.
Fr. Herman: In Metropolia magazine for children, they have a life of St. Francis, Metropolia magazine for children, called Young Life. And Orthodox children receiving this together with St. Seraphim and something else. Can we unite with them?
Fr. Seraphim: But there’s one thing more, which is the most striking characteristic of this so-called “sanctity”; in fact, the most striking characteristic of his deception, that is, he imitated Christ in an outward manner. When he had his first, I believe, seven disciples or perhaps twelve — probably twelve and starts with seven. He took them together, and he sent them by two-and-two to go preach the Gospel: one, two, he went himself to France, supposedly to France, two to someplace else, England, Italy, and so forth. And he used the very words of the Gospel: I am sending you by two-and-two to go and preach the forgiveness of sins. First of all he sent them to Christian countries and only later he sent to non-Christian countries, as if he is teaching a new Gospel, as if this had not already been done, as if he is a new christ, sending out his own people who are preaching his gospel; because these countries already have their bishops or their priests, the whole system, and he’s sending them into these same countries which already have their Christian government to preach his gospel. Indeed they go and they found the Franciscan Order.
Again, just before he died, he had bread brought to him. He blessed the bread, he had it broken, and it was given to his disciples, and the life of St. Francis says he remembered the sacred meal which the Lord celebrated with His disciples for the last time; consciously giving them a “last supper.”
Again, there is a very interesting thing which happened to him when he received the stigmata, which is the marks of the wounds of Christ, five marks in the hands, in the side, the feet. Before receiving this, which in the Catholic Church is accepted as a real sign of a saint, he prayed that he might suffer what Christ suffered in soul and body and, quote, “that I might as much as possible feel with all my being that limitless love with which Thou didst burn, O Son of God, and which caused Thee to endure so many torments for us sinners.”
This is a brazenness which is unheard of in true Saints: that they want to have God’s love itself, and they want to suffer what He suffered feeling the flesh. This is not spiritual striving. This is a search for bodily sensations and the great pride he felt at wishing to feel the very feelings of God. And you can contrast this with any — Christ does appear to saints. He appeared to St. Seraphim as he was serving as a deacon in church, and St. Seraphim did not pray, “manifest yourself to me,” or “make me feel what You felt.” He was praying in church; Christ appeared to him. And he did not even want to speak about it.
And then when he [Francis] received the stigmata there was a vision of a seraphim with Christ crucified superimposed on it, which came to him and which we’ll show you in one of their icons of this, shoots out rays, sun rays and gives him the stigmata. And at this time, according to his Life, Francis felt himself totally transformed into Jesus, which is blasphemy. That is the root of the whole of Catholic spirituality: this sweetness that Jesus is approaching, “I am all one with Him and He’s with me”— all this is prelest.
And later, sure enough, his disciples call him the “new Christ.” In one life, it even says, which Ignatius Brianchaninov likes to quote, that when Francis died and was lifted to heaven, God beholding him did not know who was greater, Francis or His own Son.
Source: https://proza.ru/2023/12/20/1794