View of the Basilica of St Francis from Porta San Giacomo (Stage 15)
Today, as you walk from Florence to Rome via Assisi it is easy to imagine the Italy of Francis’ time. Still present are the thick, grey-brown walls of medieval hill towns, the quiet mountain pathways, the sweeping vistas of fertile farmland where wheat and herb are grown, and the ancient olive groves where locals know to find the tender stalks of the wild asparagus they gather by hand and toss with the pasta of their evening meal. These Central Apennines contain some of Italy’s most beautiful mountains and valleys, what Italians call il cuor verde d’Italia − the green heart of Italy.
If the mountains of Umbria, Tuscany and Lazio could speak of all that has happened in their shadow, they would tell a rich and colorful story of armies and conquerors, of mysterious Etruscans and crafty Romans, of Christian princes and worldly bishops, of invading hordes and bumbling dictators – all who made marks on the land that today are still visible to the observant pilgrim walker. Every day of this walk brings evidence of another historic episode to see and touch: an Umbrian archway, a Roman road, a papal castle, a monument to soldiers lost in a war, a gleaming new European Union highway.
The Way of St Francis lays Central Italy at your feet and dares you not to love it. When you finally arrive in Rome and are given your completion certificate − your testimonium − your sense of accomplishment will be well-earned, having just completed one of the world’s greatest pilgrimages.
But much more than that, you will have joined the countless pilgrims to Rome from over the centuries who’ve made a special place in their heart for this beautiful land, its deep and rich history, its food and people, and its humble patron saint who walked with you along the way.
Street scene near the train station in Florence
St Francis and the Way of St Francis
The life of St Francis of Assisi
When Pietro and his French wife, Pica, celebrated the birth of their son Francis, in about 1181, they undoubtedly expected him to take up the family’s prosperous cloth business in Assisi. As an adolescent, when Francis was not helping his father he was perfecting his skills as a horseman, archer and warrior – aristocratic proficiencies befitting the upper classes to which his family aspired.
In 1202 war broke out between Assisi and neighboring Perugia. Dressed in fine battle gear, Francis boldly joined his countrymen to fight the Perugians, but the tragic result was a heavy loss of life and many casualties in the brief but bloody conflict. The Perugian victors sorted the conquered soldiers between peasants, who were killed, and aristocrats, who were imprisoned for ransom. As a result, Francis spent nearly a year in the dungeons of Perugia while his ransom was arranged. He came back to Assisi in 1203 a very different man.
Yes, the cold and damp dungeon had taken a toll on his health, but it was more likely the traumatic experience of human cruelty that changed his outlook. One day after his release from prison he was riding toward Assisi and came across a leper. The old Francis would have been horrified at such a sight and would have kept his distance, but this time he subdued his revulsion and, out of a newfound compassion, gently kissed the man. Francis was living into a new worldview.
He began to spend more time alone in study, deep contemplation and prayer and encouraged his friends to do the same. One day in 1206, from the crucifix of the ruined church of San Damiano just outside Assisi’s walls, he heard these words: ‘Francis, rebuild my church.’
One scene of the life of St Francis in graffiti style on a concrete wall leaving Valfabbrica (Stage 15)
Along with a dozen of his friends he began to do just that. To fund his work Francis chose to tap a familiar source – his family. Without asking permission, Francis availed himself of expensive bolts of cloth from Pietro’s stock; he sold them in the market at Foligno and used the proceeds to help pay for the reclamation project. Needless to say, Pietro was incensed and he imprisoned Francis in a basement room of his home. Appealing to Bishop Guido of Assisi against his son, Pietro had Francis put on trial at the town’s Santa Maria Maggiore church, and there the bishop ordered Francis to repay his father the cost of the cloth. In a symbolic act of separation, Francis removed his clothes and handed them to his father, renouncing him, his family, their possessions, and their way of life.
In a rough tunic, given him out of pity by the bishop of Assisi, Francis set out for the house of a friend in Gubbio. Over the next two years the small band of friends he had gathered would travel together like roving troubadours – a band of ‘brothers’ on a quest of prayer, poverty and preaching. They investigated the scriptures at Santa Maria Minerva church in Assisi and there discovered Jesus’ call to poverty and simplicity.
With his brothers Francis traveled to Poggio Bustone, where he had a spiritual experience of transformation, and to nearby Lake Piediluco as the band continued to gain attention. The religious authorities in Rome took notice of the growing movement, and in its biggest test, Francis was summoned in 1210 to St John Lateran by Pope Innocent III to explain his unauthorized gospel ministry.
Francis Memorial at St John Lateran Cathedral in Rome (photo by Jacqueline Zeindlinger)
Aptly remembered as one of the wisest of all popes, Innocent carefully pondered the ragged man in the tattered brown robe before him. Afterwards, in a dream, the pope saw Francis holding up the pillars of his church, which was tottering in an earthquake; shortly after that he gave his blessing and Francis began a preaching mission that would send him across the Western world.
Over the next years literally thousands of men would join his Franciscan order. Soon, women would unite with a second order set up by his friend and confidante, Clare of Assisi. A third order of laypeople would also be formed – propelled by the sincerity, humility and the gentle spirituality of the humble man of Assisi.
Operating from his base at the tiny Porziuncola chapel at Santa Maria degli Angeli below Assisi, his travels would take him to Spain, France, throughout Italy and to the Middle East as a peace-loving adjunct to the Fifth Crusade.
Back in Italy, Francis sought quiet, remote settings for prayer and contemplation – Monteluco, La Verna, Montecasale, Fontecolombo, and many more – all the while gaining fame as stories of miracles surrounded his mission.
Unknown even to his closest friends, at La Verna in 1224 he received ‘stigmata’ – marks on his hands, feet and sides resembling Jesus’ wounds on the cross. He kept these hidden from others so as not to appear proud.
Because of an ailment to his eyes, in 1225 the Bishop of Rieti begged Francis to come to his town and receive treatment, but the pressing of the crowds forced him to remain outside of town for several weeks at a quiet church of La Foresta. Then, in nearby Greccio, Francis’ temples were cauterized from his ears to his eyelids, although Francis insisted he felt no pain.
With his health in continued decline, Francis returned to La Verna, then Montecasale, and finally to Assisi. He visited with his colleague, Clare, and in a hut outside San Damiano he finalized the rule of his order and finished his immortal song, the Canticle of Brother Sun.
On 3 October 1226, at the Porziuncola, Francis died, surrounded by weeping followers and thousands of devotees. On his body were discovered the stigmata, which startled his followers and lent added wonder to the multiplying