In the Spirit of St. Francis of Assisi, Confessor — III Classis
Tempora: Sabbato infra Hebdomadam XVI post Octavam Pentecostes (IV Septembris)
“But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
— Galatians 6:14
“Come to Me, all you that labour and are burdened, and I will refresh you.”
— Matthew 11:28
In the tender light of the liturgy for this Saturday after the Sixteenth Sunday post Pentecost, we are brought into a profound dialogue between two sacred texts: St. Paul’s epistle to the Galatians and Our Lord’s words in the Gospel according to St. Matthew. Both converge in the spirit of St. Francis of Assisi, whose commemoration colors this day — a man conformed so intimately to the Cross of Christ that he bore its wounds in his very flesh.
The Boast of the Christian: The Cross
St. Paul writes with the zeal of one entirely stripped of worldly glory: “God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal 6:14). This is no mere pious metaphor. For the Apostle, the Cross is not only the instrument of redemption but the measure of all Christian identity. In his commentary on Galatians, St. John Chrysostom remarks:
“The Cross has destroyed enmity and reconciled us to God… It is the cause of all blessings, the destruction of all evils, the confirmation of the covenant. Therefore Paul glories in it.”
— In Epistolam ad Galatas, Homiliae 6
This Pauline boasting is not vanity but humble exultation. Where the world sees defeat, the Christian sees triumph. And here the Franciscan spirit speaks most clearly. St. Francis did not merely preach Christ crucified; he lived it. Poverty, humility, obedience — these were not virtues he adopted for spiritual growth, but the form of Christ crucified he sought to be stamped upon his soul.
St. Augustine offers a mystical commentary in this same spirit:
“The world is crucified to me, and I to the world: that is, I do not rejoice in the world, nor does the world rejoice in me. I am dead to it, and it to me. The world does not seek me, nor do I seek it.”
— Enarrationes in Psalmos 96
How foreign such words are to the modern ear, tuned to success, visibility, and comfort. Yet for the saints, this death to the world is the beginning of true life. It is only by being crucified with Christ that one finds the peace offered in the Gospel.
The Gentle Yoke of Christ
In the Gospel, Our Lord lifts His voice in praise of the Father for hiding the mysteries of the Kingdom from the wise and revealing them to the little ones — the parvuli, the meek and simple of heart (Matt 11:25). How deeply this reflects the evangelical life of St. Francis, who embraced the littleness of Christ in Bethlehem, in the Eucharist, and on the Cross.
Christ’s invitation follows: “Come to Me, all you that labour and are burdened…” The Fathers hear in these words a call to the weary soul — burdened by sin, by the weight of the Law, by the vanities of the world — to find rest not in escape, but in submission. A paradox: His yoke is sweet, His burden light.
St. Gregory the Great, ever the pastoral master, writes:
“My yoke is sweet and My burden light, because what is imposed by the Lord is not heavy, since He helps us bear it. Love makes light what is heavy.”
— Homiliae in Evangelia, Hom. 23
And again St. Bernard of Clairvaux, in a phrase echoing the ethos of Franciscan poverty:
“He who carries the yoke of Christ, though he be poor, is rich; though he be despised, is honored; though he be afflicted, is at peace.”
— Sermones de Diversis, Serm. 3
The Stigmata and the Rest of the Soul
It is providential that these readings should coincide with the remembrance of St. Francis of Assisi, who received the sacred Stigmata — a visible participation in the Cross of Christ. His life becomes a living exegesis of these two Scriptures: glorying in the Cross, finding rest in submission, joy in suffering, wisdom in simplicity.
The harmony of Galatians and Matthew today is not merely theological — it is liturgical, mystical, existential. In the soul of the Christian, and especially in the saints, the paradox of the Cross becomes peace, and the foolishness of the world becomes wisdom.
Prayerful Consideration
Let us, then, ask St. Francis to obtain for us the grace to glory in nothing but the Cross. May we be found among the parvuli to whom the mysteries of the Kingdom are revealed. Let us take up His yoke, embracing our daily trials and humiliations not as obstacles but as paths to union.
Domine Iesu, da mihi gloriari nisi in Cruce Tua.
(Lord Jesus, grant that I may glory in nothing but Thy Cross.)