Your pilot for these past several years of verbal flights into “Phronesis” happens to be a member of the Secular Franciscan Order (SFO). I made my lifetime-profession into that canonically recognized “third order” of laypeople during the summer of 2001.
The decision was partly based on an intuition that the world (and I) needed, more than ever, the spiritual virtues which St. Francis of Assisi (c. 1181–1226) has personified for centuries.
With my sense of urgency still increasing, it’s high time to compile here some thoughts and information regarding St. Francis. Indeed, there’s hardly a better time.
Pope Leo XIV has declared a special Jubilee Year of St. Francis, extending from Jan. 10, 2026, to Jan. 10, 2027. The Catholic Church is marking the 800th anniversary of the death of Il Poverello (“the poor little one”), the patron saint of animals and ecology, as well as a historic voice of simplicity, peace, and compassion for all those on the world’s margins.
St. Francis, whose name our previous pope adopted as his own, died on Oct. 3, 1226, surrounded by his friars (brothers) at the home church of the three orders he founded, an iconic place called the Portiuncula (“the little portion”). Franciscans annually conduct a ritual remembrance of his “Transitus” from earthly life into the hands of “Sister Death.”
During one gathering held at this chapel, dedicated to Our Lady of the Angels and measuring only180 square feet, Francis received the religious vows of a woman who would later be known as St. Clare of Assisi; the two of them co-founded the “second order,” exclusively for women, later to be known as the Poor Clares.
This added to the “first” Order of Friars Minor (OFM), ordained priests and consecrated brothers devoted to living as minorum—those deemed beneath the nobles and first-class citizens.
My brothers and sisters, married or single, in the Ordo Franciscanus Saecularis are part of the Third Order of St. Franics. Don’t confuse us with Third Order Regular (TOR) communities of priests and women religious who follow their own their rule of life.
All Franciscan groups have a variety of apostolates and charisms. Our SFO rule prescribes living Gospel values in our families, the workaday world, parishes, and fraternities, as well as through ministry to the poor, infirm, and marginalized. The fraternities, called to see the face of Christ in all people, are local, regional, and national structures for meeting, praying, and learning.
Popes, priests, consecrated men and women, and lay brothers and sisters have historical ties to the SFO. Notables whom today we’d call “seculars” (not an inherently negative word!) include Pope Paul VI, St. Francis de Sales, Mother Cabrini, St. Katharine Drexel, Spanish royals Ferdinand and Isabella, Christopher Columbus, St. Joan of Arc, and St. Thomas More.
There is also an Anglican/Episcopal religious order called the Third Order of the Society of Saint Francis, welcoming ordained and lay people around the world, maintaining fellowship with Catholics in the SFO.
While we can only imagine what St. Francis himself might think about the name-dropping in which I engaged above, or about how Franciscan family members have answered his call over time, or about the bureaucratic tendencies which have touched his trio of orders, we can be thankful that people continue devoutly to imitate the qualities and eccentricities of this saint.
There has been enough emulation—and sufficient recognition of today’s spiritual hunger—to propagate St. Francis’s global appeal. Pope Francis, a Jesuit, wrote much about him, and Pope Leo, an Augustinian, likewise integrates wisdom from the Poverello.
I asked Microsoft Bing AI if Francis is one of the most-written-about people in history, and it responded, “Very much so.” It noted that “a conservative scholarly estimate often cited informally is that well over 1,000 books have been written about him, although there’s no complete catalog.
The Franciscan qualities which authors mention most constitute a timeless vision of love, hope, and peace. These are some of his special traits:
- The paradoxical joy of simplicity, humility, penitence, and persistence in suffering and sacrifice. It’s a synchronicity of audacity and austerity.
- A reverence for creation, reflected in his familial terms like “Brother Sun” and “Sister Moon.” His love for God’s creatures is applied locally as we mark the saint’s Oct. 4 feast day, when pets are blessed at many parishes.
- Compassion for the poor, which famously yielded stories of embracing a leper and accompanying persons dismissed as “second-class citizens.”
- Loyalty to Church protocols and values, which anchored his entrepreneurship as a team-builder and wayfarer.
St. Francis showed his love of each unique person, foreshadowing Pope Leo XIV’s recent message for the 2026 World Day of Social Communications. The pontiff’s document urged us to honor everyone’s “human voice and face” as indelible, powerful counterpoints to imagery now manipulated by artificial intelligence.
Centuries earlier, Francis had enjoyed making the wonder of Christmastime more palpable for folks in the little town of Greccio. He innovated a Nativity “creche” scene populated by living persons and animals. This drove home the reality of Jesus’s incarnation, an awesome gift to humanity deserving our full attention.
The saint was also a peacemaker par excellence, even though as a teenager he was a soldier for Assisi in a battle with the neighboring city-state of Perugia.
Francis returned from that war and, boosted by stronger bonds with the Lord, assertively withdrew from his affluent, business-minded father. He stepped down, and stripped down, to encounter reality with a mendicant’s clothing and mind frame. We might call his approach dynamic tranquility, open to change and trusting in God step- by-step.
As Google AI reminded me, Francis traveled far to a scene of carnage in 1219. He “crossed battle lines during the Fifth Crusade” to meet the Sultan of Egypt, Malik al-Kamil, “seeking peaceful dialogue rather than violence.” The sultan allowed Francis and another friar, both unarmed, to enter his camp and share the Gospel message.
This did not put an end to Middle Eastern conflict, but the sultan admired Francis’s bravery and zeal for communicating about God. A providential light pierced the darkness of religious warfare. To this day, Franciscans have been granted “custody of the Holy Land,” meaning they serve the residents as good neighbors and as stewards of numerous Christian holy places, as described in Aleteia. A film called The Sultan and the Saint documents the still-relevant saga of interfaith diplomacy.
There’s much more to be said about this saint and his impact on my faith, but I doubt I could add much that has remained untold in a thousand books. Nevertheless, there are a few observations I have as an author. Starting with a self-published book in 2018, When Headlines Hurt, Franciscan values have continued to energize my critiques of culture and communication. Those pieces are posted as “Phronesis in Pieces” on Substack.
Even earlier, In 2009, I was privileged to write an article in The Cord, the nationwide “Franciscan spiritual review” then published quarterly by Saint Bonaventure University. I wrote about a visceral concern growing inside: symptoms of Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) which I had diagnosed not only in myself, but in society.
Americans were already experiencing the now-endemic distractions we associate with digital media. These include the abstraction of ideas, the polarization of people, the allure of artificiality, our anxious interaction with reality, our inability to effectively address our most vexing problems, and audience demands for “cut to the chase” brevity in news soundbites, popular entertainment, and the newfangled “tweets” that Twitter introduced.
My article, “Francis and the Short-Attention-Span World,” nominated Il Poverello as an unofficial “patron saint for an ADD-ogenic world.”
In his impulsive youth, Francis had aspired to glory and adventure within a bubble of privilege. But after his conversion, his lively relationship with Jesus turned him toward higher contexts. He saw the need for ongoing repentance to recognize and rein in society’s unjust ways.
Meanwhile, faith elevated his imagination toward the big picture of true happiness. He adopted his brand of practical wisdom (phronesis), improving individuals’ pilgrimages by witnessing to Christian values. He became a compelling voice and face of self-denial, fellowship, and poetic insight into God’s creativity.
Perhaps this combination of messages is a glimpse of connections Pope Leo and other faithful leaders will expand upon in 2026, juxtaposing two spiritual priorities—the celebration of St. Francis and wide-ranging caution about AI.
My recollection of the mission statement I was developing in 2009 renews my zeal for a patron saint who will keep the Church on the right trajectory. We must all be pilots now, using a broad, cohesive skill set to “up our game” against media pitching sterile relationships. Franciscan stories will spark souls to expand our “preferential option for the human.”
May this reflection on transitions and connections—synergies between the big and the little, sacrifice and joy, humility and creativity—help all of us face a jubilee year of wrestling with the truth, and wrestling for the truth.
St. Francis models how to address these challenges by digging attentively into the grit of reality while rising above it through a transformative life with Christ. As modern communication drives us to distraction, we can refresh our focus by accepting the blessing Francis loved to give, “May the Lord give you his peace.”
Image from Microsoft Bing’s AI Co-Pilot.









