It is hard to believe we have already reached the end of this Franciscan Month of October.  And what an incredible All Good Things Reflection Series it has been for the Month – the feedback has been most positive!

One Franciscan value that really sticks out to me is perseverance. This value has been a guiding light through my ups and downs, especially during my time at Saint Francis College.

In our fast-paced world, where instant gratification persists, it's easy to become caught up in a relentless pursuit to hurriedly achieve our goals and desires. Some of us may seek calculated and immediate results—like graduating on time, acquiring a promotion, securing a new job, and so on, which can be overwhelming and pressuring. With each passing day, the significance of waiting, patience, and trust seems to diminish, leading to hopelessness, disappointment, and frustration when life doesn't go according to our plans. Yet, St. Francis of Assisi's life is a beautiful and inspiring testament to the grace and goodness of waiting and trusting in God's perfect timing.

St. Francis Friends of the Poor, established in 1980, is the life’s work of three Franciscan Friars, Fr. Tom Walters, Fr. John McVean, and the late Fr. John Felice. Respectfully known among close friends as John, John, and Tom, these three men evoked the spirit of St. Francis in answering the call to aid the homeless and mental health needs in New York City. The years leading up to 1980 warranted desperate cries for help from the city to house people experiencing homelessness, an issue they could not bear alone. Before 1970-1980, the largest city in the country had never experienced such a surge in those living in the streets or cycling in and out of temporary shelters and hospitals. Before St. Francis Friends of the Poor, those who had recently been deinstitutionalized and required mental health support did not have a permanent home, much less stability in their medication, benefits, meals, and more.

“Deep waters cannot quench love, nor rivers sweep it away,” the Song of Songs says. How deep is God’s love for us! And how deep the love that the saints have for God is.

At St. Francis Monastery in Brooklyn Heights, there is a small chapel where some of the Brothers pray together every morning and evening. The chapel features a hand painted frieze adorning the Stations of the Cross. (A frieze is a broad horizontal band of decoration on a wall near the ceiling.)

Reflecting on the impact of the Franciscan Brothers brings to mind the profound ways in which their work has touched countless lives, including my own. The Franciscan Brothers' approach to education, rooted in humility, service, and community, resonates deeply with me, shaping my understanding of what true education can be and how it can transform not just individuals but entire school communities.

There is an experience of radical transformation and transition, a redefinition of civilization that has never been seen before, strong military and political conflicts, serious decline in morality, the practice of religion at an all-time low, corruption and abuse in government and church, health crises, great poverty in the face of enormous wealth, and the upheaval of religious foundations there. Does this sound familiar?

This year, Franciscans around the world are celebrating the 800th Anniversary of the Stigmata (1224-2024). The stigmata, the scars of Christ’s passion on Francis’s body, were the special sign that revealed the cross he took up daily in the literal sense of the word.

“Mankind must remember that peace is not God’s gift to his people; peace is our gift to each other.” These words, from Holocaust survivor and peace activist Elie Wiesel, are my go-to on Franciscan Media’s social channels whenever acts of violence befoul our country. Needless to say, I’ve posted these words often. The message speaks to our potential as peace-builders—and they are so inherently Franciscan they could have flowed from the pen of Francis himself. But it seems that, culturally, we have devalued the art of peacemaking.