800 Years of St. Francis · Day 10 of 31 · Saturday, October 10, 2026
In the spring of 1206, Francis’s father, Pietro Bernardone, a prosperous cloth merchant, ran out of patience. His son had given away the family’s goods, was spending his days among lepers, and kept kneeling in ruined chapels. Pietro hauled him before the bishop in the town square to demand his money back, and, though he would not have put it this way, his son back.
Francis did not argue. He went into the bishop’s house, came back out, folded every garment he had been wearing, and laid them at his father’s feet. “Until now I have called you my father on earth,” he said. “From now on I can say, ‘Our Father who art in heaven.’”
It is tempting to read this as a story about giving up money. But cloth was not the heaviest thing Francis was carrying. What he set down in the square was an entire identity composed by other people: a son’s role, a merchant’s future, a life drawn by appetites that were not his own.
He did it without cruelty. He did not curse his father or tear the cloth. He simply would not carry it another step. It was not a tantrum. It was a withdrawal of jurisdiction.
Notice today: What identity are you wearing that someone else wrote for you?
He could not become Francis until he stopped being the version of himself that others had been writing.
Today at San Damiano: Saturdays with St. Francis — “Do You Picture St. Francis as Smiling or Frowning?” with Bro. Mark Schroeder, OFM, 10:00 am – 2:00 pm. Details
Day 10 of 31 · 800 Years of St. Francis: A Daily October Companion · spiritualbreak.com
Reflection © 2026 Michael J. Cunningham OFS.
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