A celebration ruined? Or maybe not.

Every year, I always look forward to the 3rd and 4th of October. For those of you who know me well enough, you'd know that these are the days where the Church celebrates the feast of my glorious patron. Each year's celebration would always be emotional for me. It always served as a source of joy, and a constant reminder of how much this man has given to me throughout my journey in life, and how much of myself I see in this man. This man is none other than Francis of Assisi. 

On the night of the 3rd of October, I'd always find myself in the Church of St. Mary of the Angels, where I grew up, served, and made many friends who are closest to me even till this day. Francis always had a special love for this little church, to the point that he wanted to die there, and we'd celebrate his embrace of Sister Death in St. Mary of the Angels. On this night, after Vespers and Evening Mass, the Friars would celebrate the Transitus, celebrating Francis' transit from his life on earth, to his eternal life with God. The paraliturgy celebrated on this night would take us back to the life of Francis Bernadone, and how he always chose to die to himself. It would be a celebration of a rich man's son, who gave everything up for the sake of the gospel. A man who did nothing that was humanly impossible in his life, reminding all of us that sainthood is possible. This would be followed by a meal at the piazza of St. Mary of the Angels, celebrating the fraternity that this great man wanted his brothers to always hold near to their hearts. 

On the 4th of October, I'd find myself back in St. Mary of the Angels again, celebrating Vespers and the Eucharist with the community. It would be the Church's celebration of this man with the two highest forms of prayer, the forms of prayer that he and his brothers held very close to their hearts. This would be followed by the Night Festival of the Franciscans, where the community would gather for a night of food and fellowship at the piazza, celebrating a man who certainly knew how to enjoy life. 



But of course for this year, this celebration is not going to happen. The COVID-19 situation is still not stable enough to allow for large group gatherings. There are still restrictions on the number of people who can physically celebrate the Eucharist in Church, and it is still not possible to hold these celebrations without violating the law. If you ask me, this is one of the greatest disappointments this year, at least for myself. 

However, when I took this to prayer earlier today, it dawned on me that a life of celebration isn't the only part of Francis that made him special. Sure, Francis knew how to enjoy life. Sure, he enjoyed the company of his brothers and sisters. Sure, he had a special love for creation. But he was much more than that. 

He was a man who felt with those who were struck by the pandemic of leporsy. He was a man who sought to hear the voice of God in the silence of his heart. He was a man who went out of his comfort zones. He was a man who embraced confusion, especially when it came to discerning what God wanted of him. He was a man who embraced the sufferings of Christ, to the point of receiving the Stigmata. He was a man who referred to Death as his sister. 

Perhaps there's more to the celebration of the life of St. Francis than the part of him who knew how to enjoy life. Maybe this is a year to embrace the other side of Francis, to contemplate on how he reached out to those on the margins of society, how he found contentment in referring our God as his everything, and how he found peace in loving the Lord for the cross. 

May we too like Francis find this joy in silence, and may we too learn to love the Lord for the Cross, and may the Lord give us his peace. 


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