Act IV scene 3

ACT IV

scene 3 “An Exultation of Larks”

Setting: The forest (left side); San Damiano (centre); forest with larks (right side)

CURTAIN or spotlight opens on the forest

SHEPHERD: What have you heard anything more about Saint Francis since he got back from the Holy Land?  What’s he doing these days?

WOLF: Didn’t you know?  Didn’t you hear? 

SHEPHERD: Me?  Oh, I hardly ever get any news.  I’m usually out in the fields with my sheep, you know. 

WOLF: Of course.  I suppose you wouldn’t hear much out there.  I like to prowl around  outside San Damiano and the various hermitages of the friars, so I overhear some stories.  Some were stories of miracles and some were about his ministering to the sick and the poor.  Even though, towards the end not many people were sicker or poorer than he was.

SHEPHERD: The end?  You mean, Saint Francis is....

WOLF: Yes.  Brother Francis died last October.  Before he died, though, God gave him one last wonderful gift.  Have you ever heard of the Stigmata?

SHEPHERD: Um.  I think so, but I’m not sure.  It has something to do with sore spots on the body that look like the wounds Jesus had.  Is that right?

WOLF: Right.  Brother Francis spent many hour—even days—in retreat, praying.  He still heard voices from Jesus.   And he saw visions, too.  One really frightened him.  He tried to keep it a secret from the friars, but it wasn’t easy.  In fact it was impossible.  That was the stigmata.

SHEPHERD: Is it as painful as it looks?  What do you think?  Did he ever tell anyone about that?

WOLF: It must have been painful, but he didn’t talk about it, except to a few of the  friars.  And he didn’t show the wounds.  But we think that it was during one of those retreats that he received them, right after he saw Jesus in the last vision—Jesus on the cross, with an expression of love and sorrow on his face.  After the vision vanished, Saint Francis said he felt a wonderful glow.  He couldn’t keep it a secret forever.  Not when the blood seeped through his tunic and he had to wipe his hands and feet frequently. 

SHEPHERD: That’s amazing.  Really amazing.

WOLF: Yes.  Excuse me a moment.  I get a little choked up when I think about that.  I wish I could have seen it while he was alive.  But I did see Brother Francis one more time.  I think that was even more wonderful.  I was present when he said farewell to Sister Clare at San Damiano before going to die at home at Portiuncula. 

CURTAIN or spotlight closes on the forest; opens on San Damiano

SHEPHERD: Tell me about when you saw him last.

WOLF: I went to see him while he was in Siena, for the best medical treatment the bishop’s doctors could provide. He was too weak for us to talk.  I think he recognized me, though.  It was clear that Sister Death was coming for him quickly.  I followed as the friars carried him to San Damiano so Sister Clare could see him through the grating where she usually received Holy Communion from the priest.  It was evening, and larks were singing above the trees.  Some friars came in procession, with candles, singing hymns and waving olive branches.  Someone was reading a psalm.  Brother Francis raised his hand in blessing and farewell for the nuns and friars.  That exposed his stigmata wounds and everyone, especially Sister Clare, gasped when they saw them.   And that’s when I saw them, too.

CURTAIN closes on San Damiano; only the forest scene, filled with animals and the birds.

SHEPHERD: Oh, I wish I could have been there.  It’s no wonder he’s a saint.  In fact, everyone has known for years that he is one.  One thing I’d like to ask you, though.  Did you ever get your fourth order of Franciscans, for the animal kingdom?

WOLF: No, but I’ll try to live by a Franciscan Rule of Life anyway.  Just like Sister Clare has been doing all these years.   She is still waiting for her Rule to be approved by the Pope.  He still doesn’t like women vowing to live in poverty.  There’s hope for that, though, since he’s seen her lifelong dedication.  The rumor is that the Pope might get the approval to her before she dies.  She, too, is waiting for Sister Death.

SHEPHERD: It seems this story has a very sad ending.

WOLF: Sad?  Oh, no!  It isn’t sad at all.  In fact, we can all learn from the birds that Brother Francis taught in the forest.  The birds followed Brother Francis to Porziuncula, and I’m told that as the saint’s soul left his body, the larks accompanied it almost all the way to heaven.  They soared up, with a song of praise and in exultation, as Brother Francis went home to his heavenly father.  That’s the happiest ending there is!

~~THE END~~

Act IV scene 2

ACT IV

Scene 2 “St. Francis and the Sultan”

Setting: forest (left side); Muslim camp (centre) ; nativity crèche (right side)

CURTAIN opens on forest scene

SHEPHERD:  Did you ever hear anything more about Saint Francis after he left Assisi?

WOLF:  I heard lots about him!  He’s so famous, and kept  very busy.  First of all, he preached to the birds and animals in the forest, and I heard that later he even preached to some fish.  Best of all, he finally managed to go to preach to the Muslims.

SHEPHERD:  Oh-oh!  That’s dangerous!  Did they kill him?  Is he a martyr?

WOLF:  As saint, but not a martyr.  I think he would have happily given his life for Christ, but it didn’t happen, even though he did put himself in great danger. 

SHEPHERD:  Where did that happen?  Was he hurt?  How did you hear about that?

WOLF:  Wait a minute!  One question at a time!  It’s quite complicated, because for the longest time everyone thought Brother Francis was dead.  He tried three times to leave Europe to go to the Holy Land, or Morocco to be martyred.  The first time, it was on an ill-advised crusade called the Children’s Crusade.  The Pope didn’t want them to do it, but many children and shepherds from all over Europe decided to go to the Holy Land and rescue Jerusalem from the hands of the Muslims.  They left on a boat and all disappeared.  Some drowned and some were captured by pirates and taken to be slaves or killed.  We were sure Brother Francis was among them.

SHEPHERD: But he wasn’t?

WOLF: He might have been, and somehow got home safe.  The next time we heard about him, he was in Spain trying to cross over to Morocco.  But he got sick and came back to Assisi.  I didn’t hear about that until he had left again.  This time, apparently, he actually made it to the Holy Land.  At least, he got to the camp of the Crusaders at Acre. 

SHEPHERD: He must have loved that.  As you say, he always wanted to be a knight.

CURTAIN closes on the forest, and opens on the Muslim camp.

WOLF: The word is that he hated it.  He was so disappointed with the knights.  Even wearing the cross of Christ on their tunics, they behaved worse than thieves and thugs.  But Brother Francis got permission from the Pope’s representative to go and preach to the Muslim camp.  The Sultan was there, and had said that any man who brought back the head of a Christian would receive a gold coin as a reward.  So Brother Francis and the friar he had with him, his name was Brother Illuminato, walked for a few days past so-called Christian crusaders’ camps and Muslim camps to the place where the Sultan was said to be. 

SHEPHERD: Do you think he was afraid?

WOLF: I am sure he must have been.  Even when you want to be martyred, it must be terrifying to be faced with the fact that it could happen any minute.  And he was captured!  But, he was surely being guarded by angels, because the Muslims didn’t kill him.  Brother Francis was shouting “Sultan! Sultan!”  And probably that saved his life, because he was taken straight to the Sultan.

SHEPHERD: How did you hear about all this?

WOLF: I overheard some of Brother Illuminato’s friends talking about it after they got back.  Not many people actually sit down and talk to me personally, you understand, especially since they believe that the Wolf of Gubbio is dead.  But what I heard was that the Sultan and Saint Francis got along very well.  The Sultan didn’t convert to Christianity, unfortunately, but he respected Brother Francis’s courage.  The Sultan wasn’t really against Christians.  He is said to respect everyone who accepts that there is only one God.  And some of his own advisors are Christians. 

SHEPHERD: Then why were they fighting?  Why were they killing Christians?

WOLF: Well, to begin with, the crusaders were invaders.  The Muslims had lived there for four or five hundred years before the first crusade took Jerusalem away from them.  Then, gradually, the Muslims moved back in and there were other crusades.  All unsuccessful.  But most of all, I think it is as I said, the crusaders were not really Christians.  They were there for the money they got for fighting and for whatever they could steal.  The Sultan respected the real Christians, like Brother Francis.  In fact, the Sultan even gave him a gift, a silver and ivory horn to be blown when calling people to come to peace.  He put it with the crucifix at San Damiano.  I haven’t seen it, but it’s a wonderful gift.  I can imagine, though, how Brother Francis must have tried to refuse it.  He doesn’t like to own anything.  But there are times when you can’t say no because you will offend someone.

SHEPHERD: Well, I’m glad he was able to get to preach to the Muslims.

WOLF: Yes.  And even though the Sultan didn’t become a Christian, at least he became a friend.  And, aside from the gift of the horn, he also guaranteed safe passage for Brother Francis and Brother Illuminato to visit all the holy places, such as Bethlehem and Jerusalem.  That was very important, too.

CURTAIN closed

SHEPHERD: I would love to see those places.

WOLF: Brother Francis understood that.  Did you know that the custom of having a Nativity Crèche in church at Christmas was started by Saint Francis?

SHEPHERD: Really?

WOLF: It started as just a little Christmas surprise that Brother Francis wanted to give a friend.  Friars from all over came from their hermitages to celebrate the birth of Jesus together.  The re-enactment of the miracle was beautiful.  The little grotto in the village of Greccio is known as the Chapel of the Crèche.  The manger, surrounded by the animals, was lit up with candles and the friars sang joyful songs.  Brother Francis said it was Lady Poverty’s celebration, because she was there.  Our Lord was born in extreme poverty, and see how beautiful that is!

SHEPHERD: Why Sister Wolf!  I believe you are growing quite fond of Lady Poverty, Brother Francis’s bride.

WOLF: Yes. Well.  She does grow on you. 

End of Act IV scene 2

Act IV scene 1

ACT IV

 Scene 1 “Thanking the People of Gubbio”

Setting: forest 

(CURTAINS OPEN; CHARACTERS ON STAGE: WOLF & SHEPHERD

WOLF:  So there you have it.  That’s Brother Francis’ life story, most of it.  After he left Assisi to go and preach, I sort of lost touch.  I heard lots of stories about him, but I kept out of sight. 

SHEPHERD:  Really?  So, don’t you go to Assisi anymore?  What do you do now?  Just hang around Gubbio?  The people there are your only friends now, I suppose.

WOLF:  I thought you knew.  I haven’t been around Gubbio for several years now.  Not since shortly after Brother Francis left.

SHEPHERD: Wait a minute!  I thought you were the famous “Wolf of Gubbio”!  Don’t you depend on those good people to feed you?

WOLF:  Oh, something like that.  Yes, I’m the famous one you’ve heard about.  But, as I told you in the first place, I’ve changed.

SHEPHERD:  So, I suppose that means you’ve found a way to be kind to them.

WOLF:  Yes.  I did that some time ago.

SHEPHERD:  I can’t think of much that a wolf could do for people.

WOLF:  It really didn’t take me long to decide what I had to do.  You see, the people were giving me a lot of food.  They couldn’t afford it.  But, I suppose, it was better than having me steal from them.  But one day I overheard some of them talking.  They weren’t being unkind.  In fact, I thought they were being extraordinarily generous.  But they kept mentioning how eating sheep was natural for wolves.  How, they thought I would starve if they didn’t feed me.

SHEPHERD:  Isn’t that true?

WOLF:  Not really.  While I was in the forest with Brother Francis, I got to thinking about my family.  They don’t steal from shepherds.  And no one gives them handouts.

SHEPHERD:  What do they do?

WOLF:  They do what is really natural for wolves.  They hunt other wild animals.  I know.  It isn’t nice to think of that.  Killing other animals.  But, those animals kill others, too.  It’s how our Creator keeps the forest from getting overrun with any one kind of animal. 

SHEPHERD:  What made you take on stealing sheep?  I mean, if hunting wild animals is really natural for you?

WOLF:  Laziness. It was easier to catch slow moving sheep that were always available than to use my brains and talent to earn my keep.  Then, when the people of Gubbio started feeding me, and being so nice about it, too, I got to feeling guilty.

SHEPHERD:  Odd.  You didn’t feel guilty about stealing the sheep.

WOLF:  True!  But I did feel guilty about taking handouts.  Especially when I realized that it wasn’t necessary.  I could feed myself.

SHEPHERD:  I see.    So, did you just say farewell to the people of Gubbio and go back to the forest?

WOLF:  Not exactly.  You see, the people were feeling so good about helping me out, and had begun to treat me like a pet, you know, like one of their dogs.  I stayed away a couple of days, but they sent out search parties for me, and seemed really upset.  They had actually grown to love me.  It was quite a problem.

SHEPHERD:  So what did you do?  It seems that you couldn’t leave, but you felt guilty about staying.  What choice did you have?

WOLF:  Well, you know that I’m not the only wolf in the forest.  I went back to my pack and told them what had happened.  They were very glad that I had come home, and would be leading a more natural lifestyle.  But there were other young wolves who were having a tough time learning to hunt.  So, I told them about Gubbio.

SHEPHERD:  What?  You set a whole pack of wolves on the people of Gubbio?  What sort of kindness is that?

WOLF:  No!  I wouldn’t do that!  I told the young wolves to take turns and only take what they needed.  No extra snacks.  That way more than one wolf could eat what the people offered.

SHEPHERD:  What did the people of Gubbio think of your plan?

WOLF:  They never found out.  It turns out that not so many wolves are as lazy as I am.  So, after a year or two, they stopped going.  When the people noticed the food was not being eaten, they set out to look for me again.  But this time, I managed to elude them.  So they thought I had died.

SHEPHERD:  How did you find out about that?

WOLF:  Brother Masseo told me that Brother Francis had heard I had died.   But Brother Masseo thought I seemed to be in pretty good health for a dead guy.  He told me the people of Gubbio were in mourning over me, and had erected a statue in my honour.  Well, I think it was really in honour of Brother Francis’ taming of this big bad wolf.  Anyway, there’s a statue to me in Gubbio.  I think that’s pretty good.  It means that I really did return their kindness, one way or another.

SHEPHERD:  Wonderful!  

Act III scene 3

ACT III

 Scene 3 “Pray or Preach?”

                                                                        Setting: the forest

                                   

                        CURTAIN OPENS               

(WOLF & FRANCIS standing together at one side of the stage)

WOLF: Where are we going now?

FRANCIS: That’s the problem.  I don’t know.  I don’t know what to do, now that the numbers of my followers are getting out of hand.  Can you believe it?  I have followers I’ve never met.  They’re all over Italy, and even as far away as Spain and Portugal, France and Germany, maybe other countries as well.  I can’t even imagine it.  I just don’t know what I should be doing.  Not only the numbers are a problem for me, but my own lifestyle.  I want to do everything.  And go everywhere, but stay here in retreat, as well.  I’m very restless and have no idea what to do next.  Do you have any ideas?

WOLF: Who, me?  No.  I have no idea what a holy man with followers all over the world should do.  If you have followers, then maybe your job is to be the alpha wolf, you know, the leader.

FRANCIS: Yes.  But lead where?  There’s no point in leading if I don’t know where I’m going.

WOLF: What do your friends say?

FRANCIS: You know, I think that’s a good idea.  I’ll ask them what they think I should do.  I’d start with Clare, but I don’t like to visit her.

WOLF : Don’t you like her anymore?  I thought you two were really close.

FRANCIS: Of course, I still like her.  But I think I’ll ask Brother Masseo to speak to her.  Then he can sit down with Brother Sylvester and get his ideas, too.  Once those three have discussed it, then they can advise me.  Thank you, Sister Wolf, for your wise counsel.  Brother Masseo!  Are you there?

(enter Masseo)

MASSEO: I’m here, Brother Francis.  Did you call?

FRANCIS: Do me a favour, will you?  I need your advice on what to do next.  Should I stay here and pray for the Franciscans?  Or should I go to them and preach, as the pope said I should.  I suppose I really do need to do what the pope said. But the Franciscans need my prayers, too.  Oh, I really don’t know what to do.  And what about missions?  I would really like to travel to the Holy Land.  But maybe I should go to Morocco and be a martyr.  They kill Christians there, you know.  I should go and be a martyr, witness to the truth of the Gospel.  But if I’m martyred, who will lead the Franciscans?  And what am I leading them to do?  Oh, Brother Masseo, please go and speak to Clare and see what she says.  And then go to Brother Sylvester and see what he has to say.  And don’t forget to add your own advice.  And hurry back, because all this uncertainty is making me very restless.

MASSEO : I’ll go right away.  For now, I’d say it would be a good idea for you to pray that God will reveal his plan for you to all of us.

FRANCIS: More wise counsel.  Thank you, Brother.  Come back soon. I’ll stay here and pray.  Sister Wolf, will you pray with me?

(exit Masseo)

WOLF: I’d be happy to, Brother Francis.

FRANCIS & WOLF (silence for 3 beats, then say together): Amen.

WOLF: Here comes Brother Masseo.

(enter Brother Masseo)

FRANCIS: Hello, Brother!  What is your advice?

MASSEO: Hello, Brother Francis!  Hello, Sister Wolf!

FRANCIS: Come and sit down.  I’m anxious to hear what you and the others recommend.

WOLF: We weren’t exactly just sitting here doing nothing.  We’ve been very busy praying.

FRANCIS: True.  Prayers are very important.

MASSEO: We thought so, too.  So the other friars wanted to come with me to speak with you.  It will be interesting to see if the guidance you received in answer to your prayers match the answers Sister Clare, Brother Sylvester and the others and I received.

FRANCIS: You prayed together?

MASSEO: Yes. I gathered the brothers together and we sat outside San Damiano and prayed there with Sister Clare and the other sisters.  When our prayers were finished, we discussed our experiences.  We were amazed that we had all received the same answer.  Although, if you think about it, there’s no reason to be amazed.  Why would God give one solution to one person and a different one to another?

FRANCIS: And what was that answer?  I’m really anxious to know what God said to you and the others.

MASSEO: Well, just out of curiosity, what answer did you and Sister Wolf get when you prayed?

WOLF: I prayed for God to give us a clear vision of the future of the church.  I saw a forest without end, and Brother Francis was walking along a path that led out of the farthest part of the forest.  I believe God wants you to go and preach, not stay and retreat.

FRANCIS: Thank you, Sister Wolf.  It’s amazing how similar my own vision was.  I was getting on a ship and sailing off over the horizon.

MASSEO: Both of your visions are almost exactly what the friars and the sisters saw.  Clearly, Brother Francis, you are being led to go abroad and preach the Gospel. 

FRANCIS: So, what are we waiting for?  Let us go with God.  Any idea which way we should go first?

WOLF: Since I don’t see any ships near here, I suggest we start with the forest in my vision.  Since it is right here.

FRANCIS: Good suggestion, Sister.  Would you like to accompany me?

WOLF: I think I’ll let you and the friars go without me.  For one thing, in my vision, I saw you traveling alone, at least, not with any wolves.  I’ll be praying for you.

FRANCIS: I won’t go alone.  But I can imagine both pros and cons of having you along.  You’d be good company, and you know your way around the forest.  But on the other hand, you might frighten some people and animals away.  So, I’ll accept your withdrawal from my party.  Brother Masseo?  Will you accompany me?

MASSEO: I think I’ll go back and gather the other friars.  We’ll meet you in the forest.

( exit WOLF & MASSEO ...three beats... MASSEO & SYLVESTER & Elias & other friars enter)

FRANCIS: Look!  Some of our sister birds up there in the trees!  And here are some at our feet.  Wait here, Brothers.  I’m going to preach to the birds.

(birds all come to his feet)

(FRANCIS continues): My sister birds, you owe God a debt of gratitude!  Praise God always!  God has provided you with everything you could possibly desire.  You can fly freely.  Praise God everywhere.  You have the most beautiful feathered coats to protect you from the weather.  You have trees for your nests and rocky crags for refuge.  You don’t have to work or even beg for your food.  You have lovely singing voices.  Use them to sing praises to God, who gave you everything.  Don’t be ungrateful.  Praise God! (starts to sing, and the birds join in)

Brothers!  Come and see!   See how happy our sister birds are!  See, they are bowing their heads.  Let’s pray with them.  Bless you, my sister birds. (makes the sign of the cross over the birds at his feet)

BROTHER ELIAS: That’s wonderful, Brother Francis.  I wonder if any other animals of the forest will react the same way.

FRANCIS: Let’s go on and find out. (they walk on, animals too)

(enter WOLF)

WOLF: Hey!  Wait!  I’ll join you!

FRANCIS: Sister Wolf!  Welcome! 

WOLF: I followed you.  I thought if I kept out of sight, I could learn how you would be preaching in the forest.  When I saw you with the birds, how they weren’t afraid of you, I decided that the animals didn’t need  to fear me, either.

FRANCIS: You seem to be right.  Look, here come some deer.  They’ve seen you.  They are safe, aren’t they? 

(DEER come onstage, stop when they see WOLF).

WOLF: From me?  Of course. I won’t hurt them.

FRANCIS: Do you think they know that?

WOLF: I don’t know.  All right. I’ll stay still and quiet.  Maybe the deer won’t be afraid of me if I don’t move.

(DEER move closer)

FRANCIS: Come, Brother Deer and Sister Doe.  Come and praise God with us.  We’ll pray with you. 

(DEER and other animals bow their heads)

WOLF: Amen, and ahem! 

FRANCIS: What’s that you said?

WOLF: I think you have a long journey ahead of you, Brother Francis.  I’m going to leave you for a little while.  I’ll catch up with you in a few days, if that’s all right with you.

FRANCIS: Is there a problem?

WOLF: No.  Not exactly.  But it’s been a long day, and I have to --, I mean, I’ve got to ---, I mean, I’ll just see you later.  All right?

FRANCIS: I see.  You’re hungry, and you need to go and, um, beg for something to eat?

WOLF: Something like that.

FRANCIS: I see.  Just remember, well, you know what you should remember.

WOLF: Yes.  Of course.  If I want to be a member of the Fourth Order, I have to start to work on living according to a Franciscan Rule of Life.  You’ll help me with that?

FRANCIS: We can certainly think about it.  And pray.  You know, of course, that Clare doesn’t have her rule approved yet?  So, it could be that it’ll be a while before there’s a fourth order.

WOLF: All the more reason for me to be careful.  You be careful, too, Brother Francis.  Are you planning to go on that sea voyage now?

FRANCIS: Yes.  I think the time has come to travel to the Holy Land.  There’s a war there, you know.  Brave knights are fighting a holy crusade to rescue Jerusalem from the Muslims.

WOLF: Oh.  So you’re going to be a knight again, are you?  I thought you gave up on that idea a long time ago.

FRANCIS: I’m not going to fight!!  No, I’m going to preach to the Muslims.

WOLF: I hear that’s a dangerous thing to do.  Muslims don’t want to hear the Gospel.

FRANCIS: I know.  That’s why I must go.  I must go with a message of love and peace.  Pray for me.

WOLF: I will.  And, as I said, be careful.

(CURTAINS CLOSE)

End of Act III

Act III scene 2

ACT III

scene 2 “The Third Order”

Setting: forest near Assisi; then, a ship; then a small church (San Damiano).

(CURTAIN CLOSED: WOLF & FRANCIS at one side of the stage)

WOLF: Three!  You have three orders?  The men are the friars, the first order, right?

FRANCIS: Right.

WOLF: And the women are the Poor Clares, the second order.  And rightly so, that women should be second to the men.  But what can the third order be?  If neither men nor women?  Wolves?  Can I join?

FRANCIS: Hey!  That’s not a bad idea.  But you could form a fourth order, animals.  Yes, but I wonder what the Pope would say.   You’re wrong, though, about the women being second just because they aren’t men.  They’re the second order because the men’s order was founded first.  It never occurred to me to have women with us.  It wouldn’t be proper for women to live in ruined churches, begging for their food.  It wasn’t until Clare came along and convinced me that their example of poverty and prayer would be service to God.  And they help with the lepers, too.  That’s very important for all of us.  Do you know what Clare says about herself?  She says she is a flower that I planted in my Garden of Poverty.  Isn’t that wonderful?

WOLF: Yes, yes.  But you haven’t explained about the third order.  Not men, not women, not even wolves, so...?

FRANCIS: Both men and women.  Maybe married, or maybe not.  Might include priests, as the first order does, but mostly lay people like you and me.  Well, like me, anyway.  They hold jobs, have their own homes, raise families, just like everyone else. 

WOLF: I don’t understand.  If they’re like everyone else, how can they be Franciscans?

FRANCIS: They live in the world, but they are not of the world.  They live lives of poverty in that they are generous with what they have.  They hold lightly to the things of this world.  They don’t collect valuable treasures and have things that need guarding.  And they live in the spirit of chastity by being faithful to their families and not taking advantage of vulnerable people.  As for obedience, they have a Rule of Life, too.  And they make a vow to keep that Rule.  Above all, they are obedient to Our Lord Jesus Christ, making every effort to live as the Gospels teach.

WOLF: And what do these people get for following you?  The first and second orders, and the third?

FRANCIS: You know the Friars, and you’ve seen what they get, blisters on their feet and sleeping on floors with few covers and empty stomachs.  Not much for themselves, perhaps.  But there are blessings that are not obvious to outsiders.  The same is true for the Poor Clares, except that they live cloistered lives at San Damiano.    Oh, look!  Here come Luchesio and his wife, Buonadonna.  They’re members of the Third Order.  Why don’t they tell you all about being tertiaries?

(enter LUCHESIO & BUONADONNA )

WOLF: Great!  I like to get my information first hand.  Why don’t you introduce us, Brother Francis?

FRANCIS: Brother, Sister, come over here!  Sister Wolf wants to meet you.

LUCHESIO: Sister Wolf?  A wolf is our sister or brother? 

FRANCIS: Is that a problem?

BUONADONNA: We’re farmers, you know.  Wolves are not, um, usually considered friends, much less sisters and brothers.

FRANCIS: I hope you’ll make an exception in this case.

LUCHESIO: I think we can manage that.  Especially since we aren’t at the farm right now.

FRANCIS: Sister Wolf was wondering what you got out of being Third Order Franciscans.  Maybe you can tell him.

BUONADONNA: It’s a good question.  Because at first, I was not as keen as my husband.  He had been a very prosperous merchant.  As his wife, I had everything I could possibly want.  We were a lot like Brother Francis’ parents, I suppose.  He certainly recognized our greed and selfishness. 

LUCHESIO : My greed, especially.

BUONADONNA: But you, at least, were willing to listen to Brother Francis, and learn that there was a better way to live.

LUCHESIO: It wasn’t easy to hear that I should give up all our wealth.

BUONADONNA: And the lovely home, beautiful clothes, and being the envy of all the women in town.

LUCHESIO: I suppose those things meant more to my wife than to me.  But I did love to see her happy with all the things I was able to buy for her.  She definitely was not happy when I came home and suggested we give it all up and embrace a life of poverty.

BUONADONNA: No, I didn’t like that at all.  Fortunately, Brother Francis realized that as a family we couldn’t live exactly like the Friars Minor or like the Poor Clares.  But we could embrace the spirit of poverty, if not as completely as the first and second orders. 

WOLF: So where do you live, if you aren’t in your big house?

LUCHESIO: We sold the business and our beautiful house.  That gave us enough money to buy a little farm that would provide for our basic needs, and we could give the rest of the money to the poor.

WOLF: Yes.  But what do you get for all that?  You don’t have the blisters and the hungry nights, that the friars and Brother Francis seem to think are so great. Why do you want to be Franciscans?  What do you get?

FRANCIS: What do they get?  How can you ask that?  To begin with, they get the same gifts that God gives to all of us, to enjoy in this life and the next.  In addition, you’ve heard from some of my followers how they feel free in ways they never felt freedom before.  It is a life of joy and hope and wonder.

BUONADONNA: Exactly!  That’s true.  I’ve never felt so free and filled with joy than I do now.  Giving to the poor is so rewarding. Watching the food grow in the farm is better than wandering through a big house filled with expensive trinkets.

LUCHESIO: We don’t have the full joy that you mentioned, blisters and hunger, but we could do that maybe.  In our case, though, there is enough to do at the farm that keeps us to our Franciscan Rule of Life as it was approved for us as members of the Order of Penance. 

BUONADONNA: By the way, speaking of the farm..

LUCHESIO: Yes, you’re right!  We really must get back to work.  I hope we’ve answered all your questions, Sister Wolf.

WOLF: Yes.  Well, Most of my questions.   I don’t understand, though, is how being penitent all the time makes you happy.  But at least you don’t go hungry.  That’s what I really can’t understand.   How can the friars feel joy when they are hungry?  Being hungry never makes me joyful!  Anyway, I’m glad to have met you.  And I’ll remember you whenever I pass a farm, that you are Franciscans, too.

FRANCIS: Good-bye Brother Luchesio and Sister Buonadonna!  Pax et bonum! 

(exit LUCHESIO and BUONADONNA)

WOLF: Three orders, eh?  You know what I keep thinking of?  Your idea of a fourth order for us in the animal kingdom.

FRANCIS: I think that was your idea.

WOLF: Maybe.  But you said you liked it.

FRANCIS: I do.  I’ll have to give it more thought.  I’m not sure I could get a pope to go along with it, though, so don’t get your hopes up.  Besides, we have other things to consider now though.  I’ll need your help.

(exit WOLF & FRANCIS to opposite sides of the stage)

Act III scene 1

ACT III

 Scene 1  “Clare and the Second Order”

Setting:  the home of Favorone family in Assisi;the church; forest near San Damiano.  Set the home on the left side of the set, the forest in the centre, and the Benedictine monastery on the right side of the set.

(CURTAIN REMAINS CLOSED)

(WOLF & FRANCIS STAND TOGETHER AT THE SIDE OF THE STAGE)

WOLF: So far yours has been a story with only men in it.  Aren’t there any women in your villages and towns?  All right.  There was Pica, your mother, who rescued you from the cellar.  But weren’t there any women who followed you?  I mean, you aren’t all that ugly.  A bit ragged and not very clean.  But when you were cleaned up and in your fancy clothes, I’m sure you had lots of girlfriends.  Did they all drop you when you weren’t rich anymore?

FRANCIS: That’s not very fair to the lovely ladies of Assisi.  The fact of the matter is that when I was young and rich and well-dressed and, as you point out, clean, the young women of Assisi were kept indoors and away from young rebels like me.  They would stay in with their mothers and sisters and aunts, away from all men, young and old.  Especially young single men.  They were guarded against even meeting us.  The only time we saw these beautiful girls was in church.  There, they were surrounded by fathers and brothers.  We might smile at each other, and nod.  But that was all.  We could learn one another’s names and maybe some gossip, but only from married men who knew the fathers and brothers.  The girls, I suppose, learned about us from married sisters and aunts.  

WOLF: That’s all very well, protecting the women and girls.  After all, human girls don’t look very strong.  Certainly not like girl wolves.  I can fight every bit as well as my brothers.  Your girls don’t look like they could hold their own in a battle.

FRANCIS: Not like wolves, perhaps, but the women aren’t all that weak.  You should have seen my mother when she got angry.  I stayed out of her way then.  But remember, there are lots of differences between wolves and people.  We don’t fight the same way.  And we don’t live the same way.   The women of Assisi  are expected to become wives and mothers, not warriors. 

WOLF: But if you never meet, how can you marry?

FRANCIS: Our parents arrange that.  Of course, they have to be of the same social level and both families have to have enough money to make an agreeable arrangement.

WOLF: Oh!  That sounds terrible!  That’s business, not romance.

FRANCIS: Who said anything about romance?  We’re talking about marriage.  These days, in the modern thirteenth century in the Christian country of Italy, marriage is all about business.  At least, that’s true of the upper classes like my family and friends.  That’s one reason I fell in love with Lady Poverty.  I don’t like commerce, remember?  I’m no good at business.  Besides, these days in this country, romance is left to peasants and shepherds. 

WOLF: So, there are no women among your followers?  It’s a men’s club?

FRANCIS: I didn’t say that.  There is one very special woman.

WOLF: I know.  Lady Poverty.  You’ve told me about her.  I mean real people-type women.

FRANCIS: Haven’t you heard about Clare?

WOLF: Oh, yes, but I’ve never seen her.

FRANCIS: You won’t.  She’s secluded, along with her followers.

WOLF: Can’t she come out here and introduce herself like your other followers.  I mean, if she came with her followers, too, wouldn’t that be all right?

FRANCIS: It might be all right.  But she won’t do it.  She and her followers live in San Damiano now, and they stay there all the time.

WOLF: I guess her parents don’t care if she goes out alone.  Or is she a peasant?

FRANCIS: Her family is very rich and influential.  She had heard me speak outside the church, I think.  And had heard from her married girlfriends what my teachings were all about.  She was as devout as she was beautiful and rich.  So, when she learned that her father had found a husband for her, she escaped from the house and came with a lady friend to our house.  Did I tell you the Benedictines gave us a house to live in?  Anyway, we had it all planned, how we would greet Clare.

WOLF: Planned?  You knew she was coming?

(OPEN CURTAIN TO REVEAL ONLY THE CHURCH)

FRANCIS: Someone told me that she wanted to join our little group.  Of course, she couldn’t possibly live among us.  It wouldn’t be proper.  So, we approached the Benedictines who had given us the house for our community.  They agreed to be prepared to receive Clare.  *It started on Palm Sunday.  Clare had wanted to just come to us, but I sent her a message to go to the Palm Sunday service to get her holy palm.  So she did.  She and the other women of her household dressed in their finest clothes and entered the church joyfully.  But when the moment came for them to approach the altar to receive their blessed olive palm, Clare was suddenly seized with shyness and held back.  So, the bishop actually came down the steps and put the palm in her hand.   When I saw that, I knew that the Bishop was on our side.

WOLF: How was that?

FRANCIS: It was the way he looked her, and then glanced at me. 

WOLF: When did she leave her home, though?

FRANCIS: It was the next night, when the family was all in bed, Clare and her lady companion slipped out the side door.

(CLOSE CURTAIN ON CHURCH; OPEN CURTAIN ON FAVORONE HOME TO SHOW SIDE DOOR AND THE FOREST WITH SANTA MARIA DEGLI ANGELI AND THE MONASTERY; MOVE CHURCH TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SET.)

WOLF: The side door?  I thought no one ever used the side doors in the big houses.

FRANCIS: That’s almost true.  The side door was kept barred and bolted and was opened only when there was a death in the family.  The death door, you might call it.  It was dark out, of course.  So some of the friars were there to help her through the difficult path from the house and down to Santa Maria degli Angeli.  The friars were all there waiting for her, singing hymns of praise and thanksgiving.  She stood in front of the altar of the Porziuncula and made her holy vow.  She said, “I want only Jesus Christ, and to live by the Gospel, owning nothing, and in chastity.”  Then I cut off her hair.  We had some simple clothes for her to change into, replacing the fine silks with coarse wool.  Her lady companion removed Clare’s lovely white veil of chastity that all unmarried girls wear.  Clare put on the coarse black veil of penance we had for her.  The Benedictine convent at Bastia was ready to welcome her immediately, until we could prepare San Damiano for her.

(Clare removes white veil, and put on black veil)

WOLF: Very exciting, very dramatic, very beautiful...

FRANCIS: Yes.  All of that, and very frightening, too.  Her family was not pleased about this, you know.  In fact, they were furious.  As soon as they learned that she was missing from home, all the men of the family set out to look for her.  It didn’t take them long to figure out that she had come to join me.  Somehow, they found out that she was at the Benedictine convent.  

(men enter with swords)

MEN’S VOICES (off stage, very loud and very angry): Clare!  Come out!  Francis!  What have you done with our daughter?  Clare!  How can you shame us like this?  Come home right now!  How dare you disgrace your family!

FRANCIS:  They went with swords drawn against the nuns of the convent.  Can you imagine?  Shouting at them, demanding she be returned to her home and family.  They said it was a disgrace.  She had shamed the family.  Can you imagine?  How can you be a disgrace when you are giving your life to Jesus Christ?  How can this level of devotion be shaming your family?  Their behaviour was outrageous.  And very frightening.

WOLF: What did you do?  Do you have swords?  Could you fight them off?

FRANCIS: Swords?  What would we do with swords?  I’d had enough of that sort of thing when I was a youth.  We tried to form a barrier between Clare’s relatives and the entrance to the convent, but it was no use.  I think they would have killed us.  We couldn’t fight them.  They forced their way inside.  Clare was brave.  She ran to the altar and clung to it, screaming that she would never go back home.  She was promised to Jesus.  Of course, her family couldn’t understand it.  Or if they understood, they couldn’t accept it.

WOLF: Wait a minute.  I thought they were Christians.  Didn’t they go to the church on Palm Sunday with Clare and the others?

FRANCIS: Yes.  Well, you know, there are Christians and then there are Christians.  Some Christians just like to go to church, maybe because their friends go there.   I’m not saying that’s what the Favorone family was like, but maybe their idea of Christianity did not include such deep devotion as their daughter showed.  And, I understand that Clare’s father had selected a very eligible man to be her husband.  A rich man of a noble family, who would bring more honour and more wealth to the family.  Leaving such a prospect for a life of poverty in the church isn’t a good choice when you have worldly ambitions. 

WOLF: What convinced them to go away?

FRANCIS: Clare’s clinging to the altar wasn’t enough, apparently.  That is, not until she pulled off her black veil of penance and revealed her shorn head.

WOLF: Shorn?  You mean like a sheep?  I know all about sheep, you know.  Shorn!  That’s cut really short.

FRANCIS: Well, I would have given her the tonsure, only I didn’t think that would go over so well in the convent.   You know, this bald circle we friars have?  Clare could be a sister, a nun, but she could never be a brother.  You agree?

WOLF: I suppose so.  It’s obvious why she had to wear that veil.  Shorn!  Really!   Did her family leave her alone after that? 

FRANCIS: Yes.  But we couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t come back when no one was ready for them, so we moved Clare to another Benedictine convent in another town.  I didn’t like having to do that, but we had no choice.  Her safety was most important.  Still, it was not good having her so far away.

(Clare moves to stage right, to the Benedictine monastery altar.)

WOLF: All right.  So you have one woman follower.  But she’s with the Benedictines.  How can she be a Franciscan?

FRANCIS: Oh, she’s a Franciscan all right.  And she isn’t the only female Franciscan.  Would you believe it?  Soon after Clare joined us, right behind her came her younger sister, Agnes. 

(enter Agnes)

(FRANCIS continues): And again we had the invasion by her relatives, screaming to have the girls returned home.  This time, the men knew that her head would have been shorn, so that wouldn’t shock them into flight.  And Agnes didn’t think to cling to the altar.  But after all, that hadn’t helped Clare last time.

WOLF: Did they take Agnes home with them?  Or, did something else stop them this time.

FRANCIS: This time it was prayer that stopped them.  You’d think that a few strong men would have no trouble lifting up a fifteen-year-old girl and carrying her off.  But Agnes was on her knees praying fervently that God would intervene, if it was his will.  And, I suppose it must have been God’s will to keep the girls, because the men soon gave up trying to lift Agnes.  They just went home empty-handed again.  By this time, San Damiano was ready to house Clare and her sister, so we moved them there right away.  And the others came, too.  San Damiano soon became a lively place, full of devout women.

(enter several nuns)

WOLF: The Benedictine nuns?

FRANCIS: No.  Didn’t I tell you?  Clare’s mother came and joined her, and then several other ladies of Assisi came along, too.  I believe Clare will someday have her rule approved by the pope, but I might not live to see that.  The pope doesn’t like the idea of women living in poverty.  Clare loves Lady Poverty almost as much as I do.  The rule of living in poverty and chastity suits her very well.  In fact, they love poverty so much that they took it in their name.  You’ve never heard of the Poor Clares?

WOLF: Oh!  She’s THAT Clare!  Of course!  I’ve heard of the Poor Clares.  They are very holy women.  So, they are also Franciscans?

FRANCIS: Yes.  They are the Second Order of Franciscans.

WOLF: So, you have two orders.

FRANCIS: Three, actually.

WOLF: I can see there’s more to this story.

CURTAINS CLOSE

Act II scene 3

ACT II

Scene 3  “Franciscan Friars”

Setting:  the road from Assisi to San Damiano. 

CURTAIN OPENS

(Wolf and Francis strolling along the road, occasionally stopping to chat by the side of the road.)

WOLF: Good morning, Brother Francis!  I’m glad you remembered our meeting.  I’m anxious to hear about your freedom.  You said you’d tell me about it.

FRANCIS: Good morning, Sister Wolf.  Yes, I want to continue with my story.  We’re coming to the most important part, I think.  I felt free, but I didn’t know what would come next in my life.  I just gave it all over to God.  I was happy about that, but sad to have said a final good-bye to my family and my former life.  I’d had it pretty good, you know.  I never had to go hungry.  I could play the beggar to see what it was like.  But now it was for real.  If no one gave me food, I’d go hungry.  I could have starved.  But I had left the world once and for all.

WOLF: And your friends?  Didn’t they go with you?  Didn’t they help you?

FRANCIS: No.  Ever since I’d returned from Rome, I’d grown  apart from my friends.  I still love to have fun.  I love singing and dancing, and I still do those things.  But I also spend a lot of time in prayer.  And my favourite companions are the lepers down the hill. 

WOLF: So you went to live in the leper colony?

FRANCIS: Not immediately.  Eventually, though, I spent many hours every day bathing them and tending their sores.

WOLF: Yuck!  How could you bear to do that?

FRANCIS: It took me a while to do it.  I struggled with the horror and repulsion, until I began to find them beautiful.

WOLF: You’re strange. You love poverty and you find ugly sores and deformities beautiful.

FRANCIS (laughing): I suppose you’re right.  But it’s a matter of seeing Christ whenever you look at someone.  What if you saw Jesus begging for food on the streets, dressed in rags?  Wouldn’t you want to feed him and give him decent clothes to wear?  And if you saw him with weeping sores and deformed hands and faces, wouldn’t you want to go to him and comfort him with kisses?

WOLF: Um.  I would probably feed the beggar, but I don’t know about kissing a leper.

FRANCIS: It surprised me, when I actually did kiss a leper.  It surprised him too! (laughs)  But the food people gave me.  That was probably the worst.  I gagged when I tried to eat the scraps of rotten meat and soggy vegetables I was given.  Soon, though, I learned to eat around the worst parts.  Now I hardly notice what’s good and what isn’t.  Of course, I do get sick once in a while.  But it’s better than being rich.

WOLF: Really?  I’ll take your word for it.  But you still haven’t told me where you went to live?  So what, exactly,  did you do when you left Assisi?

FRANCIS: I was on my way to your village, Gubbio.  I was singing.  You know how I love French songs.  I was debating about whether or not to stay at San Damiano and continue working.  But suddenly some robbers jumped me.  I don’t know what they thought they were going to get from me.  I had nothing but an old tunic the Bishop’s gardener had given me as I left Assisi.  The silly fellows asked me who I was.  I was feeling as light as a bird.  So I answered that I was God’s Herald.  Well, they didn’t understand and they had no sense of humour.  So, well, it wasn’t a very good result. 

WOLF: What happened next?

FRANCIS: They beat me up after I gave them everything I had.  That experience helped me make up my mind.  I stayed at San Damiano and continued to beg for stones to build the church.  So, my whole life was praying, begging, building, and tending lepers. 

WOLF: San Damiano looks quite fine now. 

FRANCIS: Yes. Thanks.   I had lots of help, and then I worked on San Pietro and several other ruined churches.  I kept myself very busy for a long time.  Of course, I also attended church services.  The Eucharist is most important to me.  The Gospel messages that meant the most to me were about poverty.  The most important sermon I heard was on February 24^th, the feast of St. Matthias.  The priest read the Gospel and it said something about going to preach that the kingdom of God is at hand, and that we should not have gold or silver or money, not even an extra coat or shoes.  I had a few friends who shared my enthusiasm.  Let me introduce them to you:

(enter Bernard of Quintavalle)

BERNARD: Hello.  My name is Bernard of Quintavalle.  I was very very rich.  I always wondered if Francis was as good as he seemed to be.  You know how people are.  Sometimes they’re good while people are watching.  But as soon as they think no one can see them, it’s a different story.  Well, I decided to test Francis.  I invited him to stay at my house for a few days.  I have a nice big house, but I wanted to watch him.  So, instead of giving him his own bedroom, I had a second bed made up in my own room for him.  At night, he went to bed and pretended to go to sleep.  But I watched, and do you know what he was really doing?

WOLF: I have no idea.  Why don’t you tell me?

BERNARD: He was praying.  Almost all night.  Maybe all night, for all I know, because I fell asleep watching him.  I was so impressed by his honesty and his piety that I wanted to be like him.  I told him that, and that I’d been rich so long that I didn’t know if I could give it away.  It took me a while, but eventually because I was with Brother Francis so much, I had to get rid of the things that were holding me back from being as free and happy as he was.

WOLF: So, then it was just you and Brother Francis.  What did the two of you do together?

BERNARD: There were three of us, really.  I suppose I was the first to join the holy man.  But soon Peter came along.

WOLF: Who’s Peter?

(enter Peter Cattaneo)

PETER : That would be me.  Let me introduce myself.  I’m Peter Cattaneo.  I was never as rich as Bernard here, but I had too much of a good thing, too, you might say.  I had a very good position as canon of the cathedral.  I had all the right education, you see.  I’m a doctor of law.  But for all that, I was never as holy as Brother Francis.  It was clear to me that he was the one to follow if I wanted to learn to be a true Christian. 

WOLF: What did the three of you do, then?

PETER: First we went together to St. Nicholas Church.   Brother Francis went directly to the altar and knelt in prayer.  He never did anything without praying about it first.  I could hear him praying for God’s guidance.  Then he opened the Bible and read a passage from the Gospel of Matthew. 

WOLF: Sorry.  But wolves rarely read the Gospels.  Or anything else for that matter.  Most teachers don’t like us to come into their schools, you see....

PETER: No.  I suppose they don’t.  Can you blame them?

WOLF: I think we were talking about you.

PETER: The Gospel of Matthew, actually.

WOLF: Right.  Was it important?

PETER: The gospels are always important.  This one confirmed what the gospels always said to Brother Francis.  It was another message about poverty—his favourite topic, the love of his life, other than Jesus, that is.  It said that if you want to be perfect, sell whatever you have and give it to the poor.  And to follow Jesus.  Then in the Gospel of Luke, Brother Francis read that we should take nothing for our journey, not even money or food or extra clothes.  I think he’d read that before.  But again in Matthew, we read that followers of Jesus should deny themselves and take up their cross. 

WOLF: I haven’t seen him carry a cross.

PETER: There are many ways we all carry crosses, Sister Wolf.  You have your cross, you know.

WOLF: I do?

PETER: Yes.  Your cross is anything that is difficult to do, or that makes it difficult for you to live the way God wants you to live.  For example, it’s very hard for you to be kind to the people of Gubbio.  To leave their sheep and farms alone. 

WOLF: I see.  What cross did you and Brother Francis have?

PETER: Well, that was the wonderful thing about the first part of the command—to give away our worldly goods.  Once we had done that, our load of worries were gone.   We just had to find people to give us food for ourselves and the lepers, and building stones for the churches.  We could carry Christ’s cross, you might say.

BERNARD: It’s true.  When I was rich, I had so many things that I had to take care of.  I was always worried about being robbed, or losing something valuable.  And I always needed more money to buy more stuff that would show the world how rich I was.  Once I’d given all that stuff away, I didn’t have any of those worries anymore.  I was free to pray with an easy conscience.  It was wonderful.  After all, who needs a lot of useless stuff.  I was free to take on the cross of caring for the lepers—doing God’s work.

WOLF: So the three of you were poor as the lepers you were helping.  How could you help if you were just like them?

BERNARD: We still had our health.  And people weren’t afraid to come near us.  So we could beg for them and look after them.

WOLF: That’s a lot of work for three men.  But there are more of you now, aren’t there?

PETER: Sylvester joined us next.  And for a while we were known as Brother Francis and his Three Companions.

(enter Brother Sylvester)

WOLF: Is this Brother Sylvester?

SYLVESTER: Yes.  I’m Sylvester.  I have to say I’m not proud about the way I came to join the Friars Minor.  That’s what we’re called now, you know.  It means the Little Brothers.  I wasn’t rich or educated like Bernard and Peter here.  My burden was that I was proud and greedy.  And, to make matters worse, I should have known better because I was a priest.

WOLF: What made you change?  Did Brother Francis preach to you?

SYLVESTER: You might say that!  He always says we should preach the Gospel, but use words only when necessary.  Often the most effective preaching is done by example.  And that’s what he did in my case.  You see, it started when I sold him some stones to use in church building.  He had begged the money, of course, but I didn’t give any thought to that.  All I could think of was getting what I thought was a fair price for the stones.  I looked at the money he gave me, and, to my shame, I complained that it wasn’t enough.

WOLF: Oh.  He didn’t like that, I bet.  What did he say?

SYLVESTER: That was just it.  He didn’t say anything.  His silence made me feel embarrassed.  But what he did was even worse—or better, maybe.  Certainly it was more effective.  Rather than preach at me, he simply opened out his money bag and emptied it into my open hands, spilling all the coins he had collected from generous people.  I felt horrible.  I realized how selfish I was.  And how generous he was, and the people who had donated their hard-earned cash to the building of churches. When I finally came and apologized,  Brother Francis kindly accepted me as the third companion. 

FRANCIS: They were the best and most generous friends I could possibly have.  Next came Brother Giles.  He was able to give his cloak to a poor beggar woman. 

(enter Giles)

GILES: It isn’t a bad life, you know.  We have a lot of fun.  We laugh and sing.  People even had a name for us.  They called us God’s Jesters. 

FRANCIS: It was surprising how fast our numbers grew.  The men came from all over.  Come here, men!  Introduce yourselves.

(enter ANGELO, RUFFINO, MASSEO, ILLUMINATO, SABBATINO, JUNIPER, PACIFICO, PHILIP, LEO, JOHN, ELIAS: each comes in and says his name and leaves the stage.)

FRANCIS: Then I realized that we had twelve men and more, and that meant I had something very important to do.  I went to see my friend the bishop in Assisi.  He warned me about our lifestyle.  How dangerous it was to depend on the generosity of people to continue forever.  And, as our numbers were growing, and responsible citizens were giving away their belongings to become homeless beggars, many people were becoming alarmed.  How many would be left who could support us all.  They said it was irresponsible.  I suppose it was.  But what could we do?  We were following the Gospels of Christ. 

WOLF: What did the bishop advise?

FRANCIS: Well, he agreed with me that if we had possessions, we’d have to defend them.  So, that wasn’t the answer.  I decided  to go to Rome and get the Pope’s blessing on our rule of life.  But it wasn’t easy to get to see the pope, you know.   You can’t just go and knock on the door of the Vatican and ask to chat with him.  I saw him on the street one day, and I tried to talk to him.  But he had many people around him to protect him.  It was impossible.  But it was so important.  I couldn’t just go home.

WOLF: If it was impossible, then how did you manage it?  I assume you did get to see the pope?

FRANCIS: You could call it luck, or a coincidence. But I prefer to call it God’s intervention.  It just happened that my old friend, Bishop Guido, was in Rome and had connections.  Because, I just sat outside the Vatican and waited.  And suddenly, one of the guards came and told me that the pope wanted to see me.  Imagine!  The pope actually asked to see me.

WOLF: How had he heard of you?

FRANCIS: I don’t know if Bishop Guido told him about me, or if he had seen me from his window.  But I later learned that he had had a bad dream about me.  He dreamt that the beautiful big church, the Lateran, was falling down around him, and I was a pillar holding the roof up.  That’s when he called me in to speak to him.

WOLF: I don’t get it.  Were you the cause of the building falling down?

FRANCIS: No. I was the pillar holding it up.  Me.  A beggar at his door.  So he sent for me.

WOLF: Did you get dressed up in fine clothes to go and speak to him.  He’s a pretty important fellow, I hear.

FRANCIS: Very important!  And I went, as I was,  to see him in his court, with all the cardinals around him.  There he was, Pope Innocent, sitting on his throne, waiting for me to tell him what I had on my mind.  I could hardly speak for trembling.    Then, God gave me the strength and voice to tell the pope about what my friends and I had been doing at San Damiano and the other churches around Assisi.  I told him about our giving up all wealth and exchanging our fine clothes for beggars’ clothes.  I told him about our begging for food for ourselves and for the lepers we care for.  I asked him to bless our work, and to allow us to have this lifestyle as our rule of life.  I even dared to remind His Holiness that we were living life as Jesus commanded us in the Gospels.

WOLF: If you call him “His Holiness”, he could hardly refuse.  It was a done deal.  I guess you just said thank you very much and went home.

FRANCIS: You might have thought so.  But it wasn’t that easy.  Most of the cardinals were against what I was doing.  They agreed with the citizens of Assisi that our way of life was irresponsible.  One of the cardinals spoke up for us, though.  He pointed out that if the Pope rejected us because our lifestyle was too difficult, then that would mean that the church was saying that it was impossible to follow Jesus.  That would be blasphemy against Christ.  In the end, Pope Innocent dismissed me saying, “Go my brother, and as the Lord inspires you, preach repentance to everyone.  When God has multiplied you in numbers and grace, come to me again rejoicing and I will grant you more than this.”  I was thrilled.  I hurried out of the Vatican afraid he might call me back and change his mind.  As I left the great hall, I heard him say to his cardinals, “Truly this is the pious and holy man who shall restore the Church of God.”  I came home the happiest man alive, with my beloved bride Lady Poverty and her beautiful sisters, Obedience, Simplicity and Trust.   

CURTAIN CLOSES

End of Act II