The Franciscan Way – An introduction to San Damiano Retreat

This following post is an introduction to San Damiano Retreat for those visiting us for the first time. It also provides a summary of the Franciscan Way, which we promote and try and live out in our everyday lives here at the center. I hope that you find this helpful in your own journeys, and perhaps explains a little more what we are up to here in the hills surrounding the Bay area. God Bless … Michael Cunningham

The Franciscan Way: A Path for Today’s Seeker

An Introduction to Franciscan Spirituality

Welcome to San Damiano Franciscan Retreat Center. I’m delighted you’ve chosen to spend this sacred time with us in this beautiful place named after a small, dilapidated chapel that changed the course of history eight centuries ago.

As we begin our journey together, I’d like to offer you an introduction to Franciscan spirituality—not as a historical curiosity or scholarly exercise, but as a living, breathing path that continues to transform hearts and minds in our modern world, just as it did in the 13th century.

The San Damiano Moment: Where It All Began

It’s fitting that we gather in a retreat center named San Damiano, for it was in the original San Damiano chapel near Assisi that a young Francis, still searching for meaning and purpose, knelt before a Byzantine crucifix and heard Christ speak to him: “Francis, go repair my house, which is falling into ruins.”

Initially, Francis took these words literally, using his father’s cloth and money to rebuild the physical chapel. But as his journey unfolded, he came to understand a deeper meaning—that Christ was calling him to help renew the Church itself, not through power or wealth, but through radical simplicity, authentic joy, and loving service.

That San Damiano moment stands as a metaphor for Franciscan spirituality itself—an unexpected encounter with divine presence that calls us beyond our limited understanding toward a broader vision of what it means to live the Gospel.



The Heart of Franciscan Spirituality

At its essence, Franciscan spirituality is not about complicated theological systems or rigorous religious practices. Rather, it centers on a few simple yet profound elements that continue to resonate across centuries and cultures:

1. Gospel Simplicity

Francis was captivated by the Gospel. When he heard the words of Jesus sending out his disciples without money, extra clothes, or provisions, Francis exclaimed, “This is what I want! This is what I seek!” He embraced radical simplicity not as deprivation but as freedom—freedom from the endless cycle of acquiring and protecting possessions.

In today’s world of consumerism and complexity, Franciscan simplicity offers a counter-cultural invitation to discern what is truly essential. It asks us: What possessions, habits, or attachments might be weighing down your heart? What would it mean to travel more lightly through life?

2. Creation as Sacred Text

Perhaps Francis’s most distinctive contribution to Christian spirituality was his profound sense of kinship with all creation. He addressed the sun, moon, water, and even death as brothers and sisters in God’s family. For Francis, creation wasn’t merely a backdrop for human activity but a sacred text revealing divine presence.

Francis didn’t love nature in the abstract or romantic sense. He encountered specific creatures with reverence and joy—birds that listened to his preaching, a wolf he befriended in Gubbio, the elements that sustained life. This wasn’t sentimentality but profound theological insight—that every created thing bears the divine fingerprint.

In our age of ecological crisis, this aspect of Franciscan spirituality offers prophetic wisdom. It invites us to move beyond seeing nature as a resource to exploit toward recognizing it as a community to which we belong.

3. Perfect Joy in Imperfect Circumstances

One of the most striking features of Franciscan spirituality is its emphasis on joy, even amid difficulty. Francis was known as “God’s troubadour,” singing and celebrating God’s love even as he embraced voluntary poverty and encountered resistance.

In a famous story, Francis explained to Brother Leo what constitutes “perfect joy”—not success or acclaim but maintaining peace and gratitude even when rejected, misunderstood, or suffering. For Francis, joy wasn’t dependent on external circumstances but flowed from the conviction of being loved by God.

In our anxious, achievement-oriented culture, this Franciscan perspective offers revolutionary freedom—the possibility of finding joy not when everything goes right, but even when things go wrong.

4. Contemplation in Action

Franciscan spirituality beautifully integrates contemplation and action. Francis would withdraw to remote hermitages for extended prayer, then return to towns and villages to preach and serve. This rhythm created a spirituality that was both deeply mystical and practically engaged.

Clare of Assisi, Francis’s spiritual sister and founder of the Poor Clares, developed this contemplative dimension even further. Her “gaze” upon Christ through prayer transformed her seeing of everything else. As she wrote to Agnes of Prague: “Place your mind before the mirror of eternity… and transform your entire being into the image of the Godhead itself.”

This integration offers us guidance for our fragmented lives—neither escapist spirituality disconnected from the world’s needs nor frenetic activism disconnected from spiritual roots, but a harmonious flow between contemplation and compassionate action.

The Franciscan Path in Everyday Life

How might we live this Franciscan vision in our daily lives, eight centuries after Francis walked the hills of Umbria? Let me suggest a few practical applications:

Practicing Presence

Franciscan spirituality invites us to cultivate attentiveness to the present moment. Francis had a remarkable ability to be fully present to whatever person, creature, or situation was before him. In our distracted, multi-tasking world, this simple practice of presence can be revolutionary.

Try this: For one day, approach each person you meet as if they were Christ in disguise. Notice how this shifts your attention and transforms ordinary encounters.

Embracing Vulnerability

Both Francis and Clare embraced vulnerability not as a weakness to overcome but as a sacred space for encounter with God and others. Francis’s willingness to be seen as foolish—singing in the streets, embracing lepers, appearing before the Pope in rags—created openings for authentic connection.

In our culture that values strength, control, and competence, Franciscan vulnerability offers liberation. Where might you risk being more authentically yourself, less defended, more open to connection?

Practicing Generous Simplicity

Franciscan simplicity isn’t about following rigid rules of poverty but about cultivating a generous heart that holds possessions lightly. Francis gave away not only material goods but status, reputation, and control.

Consider: What would one step toward greater simplicity look like in your life? Perhaps it’s clearing physical clutter, reducing digital noise, or simplifying your schedule to create space for what truly matters.

Reading the Book of Creation

Francis found God revealed not only in Scripture but in the natural world. This “Book of Creation” complemented the “Book of Scripture,” each illuminating the other.

Try this Franciscan practice: Spend time regularly in nature—not hiking with earbuds in or checking items off a fitness app, but simply present, attentive to the specific creatures and elements around you. What might God be revealing through this sacred text?

Building Peace Through Encounter

Francis was a remarkable peacemaker, even crossing battle lines during the Crusades to meet with the Sultan of Egypt in a spirit of respectful dialogue. For Francis, peace wasn’t achieved through avoiding conflict but through courageous encounter across differences.

In our polarized society, this Franciscan commitment to building bridges invites us to move toward, not away from, those who differ from us—approaching them with curiosity and respect rather than defensiveness or dismissal.

Conclusion: The Ongoing Invitation

As we begin our time here at San Damiano Retreat Center, we stand in a spiritual tradition that continues to offer wisdom, challenge, and hope. The Franciscan path doesn’t offer escape from life’s complexities but a way to move through them with greater freedom, joy, and love.

Francis himself never intended to start a spiritual movement. He simply sought to follow the Gospel with his whole heart, without gloss or compromise. In doing so, he discovered that the way of radical love leads not to constriction but to an expansive freedom—what he called “the perfect freedom of the children of God.”

That same invitation extends to each of us today. In the coming days, may we open ourselves to the transforming power of Franciscan spirituality. May we, like Francis before the San Damiano cross, be willing to listen deeply to how Christ might be calling us to “repair the house” in our own time and place.

The Prayer of St Francis

As we begin this journey together, let us pray in the spirit of Francis:

*Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
Where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
To be consoled as to console,
To be understood as to understand,
To be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.*

Peace and all good—Pax et bonum—as Francis would say.

The Inward and the Outward

Meister Eckhart was a priest, mystic, and theologian in the late Thirteenth and Early Fourteenth Century. He was, as many preachers of his time, not always accepted by his peers and found himself the subject of the Church’s inquisition process. Today, many centuries later, his work is seen for the far-reaching insights which are perhaps even more relevant today. One of his many famous sermons focuses on the issue of “inward and outer work.” Here, he talks of the struggle we all can relate to, how do we resolve the conflict between the inner life and closeness to God, and our outer life and its relation to the world. 

In his own words: 

“Suppose a man should withdraw into himself with all his powers,

outward and inward, then when he is in that condition there is in him

no image or motive, and he is without any activity within or without.

Then he should well observe whether there is any inclination toward

anything. But if a man is not drawn to any work and does not want to

undertake anything, then he should force himself into some activity,

whether inward or outward (for a man should not be satisfied with

anything, however good it may seem or be) so that, when he finds

himself oppressed or constrained, it may appear rather that that man

is worked rather than that he works; thus he may learn to co-operate with

his God.”

So much of us have a segmented prayer life, times we allocate for dedicated prayer, and then the time when everything else fills the “prayer void.” What Meister Eckhart invites us to here is to remove “our agenda or our will” from the top of our activities. It is where our need for a result dominates the conversation, the work, the task, whatever that may be. This does not mean we remove our gifts and skills from the process, but instead we gradually erase a firm and thickly drawn line between our will and that of God. When Eckhart says “that man is worked, rather than he works”, we are gradually blending the two worlds of our outer and inner; then our soul becomes permeated with the will of God, as God “works us” rather than us trying to work Him. 

He also notes later in that sermon, 

“But if the outward work tends to destroy the inward, one should follow

the inward. But if both can be as one, that is best, then one is cooperating

with God.”

Following the inward also, funnily enough, is totally in line with scripture. Following the inward will always be basked in the warmth of love, and therefore leads us into the peace of Christ we all seek. Those who have it, or have felt it, know what a gift it is. 

And while Eckhart encourages us towards the inner, it is the world where our outer is most visible; at work, at home, in community, in leisure, while helping others or just being creative, we will feel the results. 

For Eckhart wants us to explore the God which we know is present in all. Eckhart invites us to ditch our ego and selfish agendas to ensure we stay in the room with Him forever. 

The Inward and the Outward 

Here I go again,

The agenda is on the billboard of my mind,

Some added in giant type, readable to all,

Others less so, needing eyeglasses to perceive. 

The dual nature of what dominates creates my to-do list for each moment,

Cluttering and countering the peace which fills the background,

Wanting to obscure and wash away my agenda.

Leaving no room for anything.

Save the work and peace which resides within. 

Reflection, image and poem Copyright 2025 Michael J. Cunningham OFS

THE SOUND OF SILENCE

The Sound of Silence (from God) 

We frequently hear that silence is the language of God. This silence we speak of, of course, is often related to contemplative prayer, the silent variety in particular. Scripture tells us of the importance of this, and even the times when Jesus went into the desert to fast and pray. We can only assume this was also in silence. 

Can you imagine just wandering off into the desert, leaving the broken vegetation and walking through the untended natural garden which it creates? There is something beautiful about us leaving our everyday worries and cares and heading out towards some sublime time with God. When this happens with deliberation, such as the time we spend on a retreat, we can enter into the relationship with all the creature comforts, hoping for a connection, some reassurance that God has not left or abandoned me. 

Or course, our needy spirit is talking here. Or rather, our needy ego. Here we go again, demanding God’s presence, or some evidence that God loves me. Rather like the inner child who still speaks to us. 

Today, I received a telephone call on “Whatsapp” it was a random call from my 3-year-old granddaughter in Singapore who just decided (over breakfast there) that she needed to speak to her “papa.” Phone at the ready, mom obliged, and I was able to take the call and watch her eat breakfast, show me her 3-day old birthday cake and get the “fix” she needed to reassure her I was well and hadn’t forgotten about her. 

I certainly can relate this episode to my relationship with God. For sure, I want to hear from Him, telling me I am on the right track, some indication that He is present and ideally, a sign that He loves me. 

Maybe the desire herein is really just the Holy Longing, which so many of our spiritual leaders over the years have spoken. The hunger and desire to belong to Him and Him to us. Perhaps that hunger, the presence of the desire for reassurance, should be enough. 

However, the reality is when God is silent, then the chances are, things are well from a spiritual perspective. For when he is silent, He is with us. 

He is with us always. Let us remember this “silent presence” which dwells deep within us this week; as we take a mental walk in the desert, just to be with Him in the silence. 

Reflection and image Copyright 2024 Michael J. Cunningham OFS

Tall Stories About Trees

Tall Stories About Trees

I’ve just spent three days involved in a retreat entitled Retreat beneath the Trees. You might wonder in the state that has made the California Redwood its home, why would someone come to a retreat to talk about trees?

Well, it turns out that trees are pretty interesting. Not just for gardeners, who often use trees as the large punctuation points of their artwork. But also, arborists, who have made a study of trees. What are trees? Why do we need trees? What have trees ever done for us?

Many of these questions were answered over the course of the weekend. Many attending the retreat didn’t realize that one of the main functions of a tree is to take the poisonous carbon dioxide that fills our atmosphere and turn it into useful oxygen, which is our very breath of life. Recent studies have proven that trees, while not having a brain, or the ability to reason, know what to do when times are hard. They move liquids and nourishment to the parts of the tree that are in need, or have become damaged.

And trees through a combination of their root systems, and other means, communicate with each other. Warning each other of impending danger, and even creating chemical responses, preventing their nearby friend trees from catching some disease or fungi.

There is an intelligence within the tree, and amongst trees that we were only just beginning to understand. Or even scientifically recognize. Trees protect themselves by increasing the amount and thickness of bark so they can survive the most difficult fires. Some acorns and cones can keep their seeds safe for up to 20 years. Thereby ensuring the continuation of their species.

Trees provide an anti-pollution, anti-global warming, eco-friendly, atmosphere for all around them. And when I say atmosphere, I really mean atmosphere.

We all have our favorite trees, we all had many tree experiences, some perhaps from our childhood, others as we’ve traveled through life. They become a part of us that’s important.

Over the course of the weekend, part of our observations of trees, and their behaviors was to see how this ties into our own spiritual lives.

Of course, trees are a part of the wonder of creation. So, the more that we experience and feel being at one with nature, the more our spiritual depth and appreciation expand. Trees are not just a source of wood to do something with, but they also provide fruit, shelter, protection, and many other functions. Interestingly enough when they have provided all of those functions, they then offer themselves up. Offering themselves up to become the framework of someone’s home, the chairs we sit on, the furniture we eat off; and eventually mulch for our garden to nurture the new plants and trees. Sort of the ultimate giving back when you think about it.

Because the tree is not a thinking reasoning being as we are, we don’t think much about their sacrifice. They just are. Trees. Doing what trees do.

But what if I was to think, just for a moment, like a tree I would have to do some difficult things. Firstly, I would have to stop fidgeting, in fact, I would have to stop moving at all, I can wave a lot but I can’t relocate myself. I would have to be happy with where I am right now wherever I was planted and make the best of it.

Anytime I became ill or had a problem, someone Hacked Off my branches, I would not complain. Instead, I would redirect the necessary healing forces to reinforce that area until the wound grew over. And the area where I was wounded would become stronger than any other area on the tree. This not only offering protection but illustrates that wounding me will strengthen me. Something to think about from a spiritual perspective, if I wasn’t a tree.

And then if the weather is bad or the sun is too strong, I just close up my leaves, stay flexible and move with the wind, and right out the storm, or drought, or wind. And I wouldn’t complain. No matter how long it went on for.

And I would still look good and provide water and nourishment to my leaves and branches right till the very end. And at the very end, if it was to come, I wouldn’t complain. I’m just a tree. Doing what trees do.

So when I’m stressed I put all my energy into trying to fix, as best the tree can, whatever the problem is.

Finally, I can say as a tree, that I have no worries. That is because I have no ability to worry, I take it as it comes, and I can’t stress out because I do not have an advanced worrying brain to bother me. And yet the humans lying under me are talking about all their worries, as they eat their picnic, in the shade. The shade which is me. I am just a tree.

But today you need me. And that makes me feel real good.

Copyright 2024 Michael J. Cunningham OFS