As we draw closer to the Feast of St Anthony of Padua on 13 June, we are invited to enter more deeply into his spirituality, and to journey with him in prayer and reflection.
A famous line from his early preaching is “Give yourself wholly to God, who gave Himself wholly for you.”
St Anthony lived this message. He was born into a wealthy family but, like St Francis, he gave up everything to follow Jesus. He became a Franciscan friar, living a simple life of prayer, service, and preaching. He used all his gifts to serve others and to teach them about God’s love. Through his gift in preaching, he shared God’s message of love with those who came to listen, to give them hope.
Many of us struggle with prayer, feeling too busy to pray, too distracted to reflect, and too overwhelmed to give ourselves freely. Today’s culture often celebrates self-centeredness disguised as self-care, and productivity as the highest virtue. In this fast-paced environment, it is easy to give God only what is left of our time and attention. But Anthony’s spirituality reminds us that we are called to give not just a part, but our whole selves to God. It reminds us to carve out time for God, to choose silence over noise, and to live not just for ourselves, but in the service of others and for the glory of God.
Giving ourselves wholly to God today means making space each day for prayer, for Scripture, for acts of kindness. It means resisting the temptation to be consumed by our schedules and screens. It means trusting that God knows what is best for us, even when we do not understand.
So, as St Anthony’s feast day draws near, let us take time to reflect: Am I giving my whole self to God, or am I only giving what is easy or convenient? Am I truly too busy to spend time with God?
St Anthony shows us that when we give ourselves to God, we gain peace, purpose, and joy. Let us follow Anthony not just in devotion or as a helper in our needs, but as a spiritual companion who leads us closer to Christ, where true peace and joy reside.
The Stations of the Cross, or the Way of the Cross, is a familiar Lenten practice for many Catholics, with the stations prominently displayed in churches worldwide. At the Church of St Mary of the Angels in Bukit Batok, the stations are uniquely situated outdoors, marked on pillars around the piazza. However, what many parishioners may not realize is the deep connection between the Stations of the Cross and Franciscan spirituality.
Stephen Copeland explored this Franciscan link in an article published in St Anthony Messenger. He noted that the Franciscans “have long had a different approach to the cross, one that comes into focus during the Lenten season. Their perspective and influence are most evident in the weekly liturgical practice of the Stations of the Cross, which the Franciscans played a vital historical role in establishing.” Although the liturgy of the Stations—where participants pray and meditate upon 14 scenes of Jesus’ journey to Calvary—might not immediately seem aligned with the optimism inherent in Franciscanism, Copeland argues that its history can enrich contemporary Lenten practices and personal approaches to the cross.
Within the Franciscan tradition, the Stations of the Cross emerged as a Lenten devotion shortly after St. Francis returned from the Holy Land in 1221. Pilgrims to the Holy Land often brought back relics from Palestine, but they also carried a desire to recreate scenes from the sacred sites to share their experiences with those unable to make the journey. In 1342, the pope entrusted the Franciscans with the care of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre—where Jesus was crucified—and the Via Crucis (the Way of the Cross) in Jerusalem. From this point, the Franciscans began actively promoting the devotion of the Stations of the Cross.
During the 15th and 16th centuries, the Franciscans constructed outdoor shrines across Europe to replicate their counterparts in the Holy Land. In 1686, Pope Innocent XI granted the Franciscans the exclusive right to erect stations within their churches. This privilege was extended in 1731 by Pope Clement XII, who allowed all churches to have the stations, provided they were installed by a Franciscan father with the local bishop’s consent. An Italian friar, St. Leonard of Port Maurice, became a fervent advocate for this devotion. Between 1731 and 1751, he erected the Stations at 572 locations across Italy, including the Colosseum in Rome, earning him the title “preacher of the Way of the Cross.” It was during this period that the number of stations was standardized at 14.
By 1862, the right to erect the Stations was extended to bishops throughout the Church, solidifying the Stations of the Cross as a permanent and universal part of Lenten prayers commemorating Christ’s passion, death, and burial. Friar Jim Sabak OFM, a historian and professor, reflected on St. Leonard’s motivations, stating, “St Leonard was ministering and writing in the aftermath of the Reformation and the breakdown of Christianity. For him, to try to reunify Christianity was to remember this man, Jesus, who died … In praying the Stations, St Leonard was saying to focus on the one who holds us together, even in death … it was to be prayed so that you knew the anchor and root of our faith.”
As the new year begins, I’ve noticed that many people plan their holidays early. These breaks help them to rest, reconnect, and spend intentional time alone or with loved ones. Similarly, we need time apart for our spiritual lives. Retreats offer us the opportunity to step back, rest in the Lord, and deepen our relationship with Him. Whether it is discerning an important decision, seeking renewal, or reconnecting with God, retreats help us ground our lives in Him.
At the San Damiano Franciscan Centre, I’ve been blessed to journey with retreatants as a Spiritual Director. It never ceases to amaze me how God always shows up when someone intentionally sets aside time to seek Him. Silent retreats provide the sacred space to pray, reflect, and listen to God’s voice. In today’s fast-paced and noisy world, silence is a precious gift that helps us recognise where God is working in our lives and hearts.
Retreats allow us to quieten our minds and souls. They create a space to discern God’s will and align our beings more closely with His direction. With the guidance of a spiritual director, retreatants explore the interior state of their lives, affirming goodness, confronting challenges, and embracing God’s healing work.
Regular spiritual direction complements retreats by offering ongoing support and accountability. Regular sessions with a trained spiritual director help one discern the movements of the Holy Spirit and encourage personal growth. One shares about life’s joys and struggles, and questions about faith, integrating the graces from a retreat into daily life for ongoing transformation.
These practices are deeply rooted in Catholic tradition. Jesus himself sought solitude in prayer, retreating to quiet places to commune with the Father. Saints throughout history also modelled the importance of retreats and ongoing spiritual guidance, showing us the way to deepen our relationship with God.
In our busy, fragmented world, retreats and spiritual direction offer peace, clarity, and spiritual growth. They help us live with trust and purpose in God’s love and direction for our lives, strengthening us to share Christ’s love with the world.
So, this year as you plan your holidays or staycations, why not also consider setting aside time to rest in the Lord?
This Advent, as we approach the Year of Jubilee as pilgrims of Hope, we might consider making the period a fast of joy.
We would do this not merely as a penitential act for the expiation of our past sins, but to express our hopeful hunger for a better reality, for a deeper communion with God. Is it no wonder that we have an hour of fasting before receiving communion at Mass? This is the same spirit of self-emptying in preparation of receiving a great gift.
Many of us may not see God’s abundance of goodness at his table of plenty. Our images of God may be distorted and even unhealthy. We may think of God as a harsh policeman or a whimsical tyrant. We may expect God to grant us what we want how we want it simply because we have delivered a set number of prayers and sacrifices. Fasting may be the pathway towards an emptying of these ideas, a way to allow the Holy Spirit to infuse our minds with who God is and guide us to live as his love drives us.
Consider this too, Advent is a time of joyful expectant waiting, but in a world where we demand immediacy and efficiency, we are often frustrated and angry when we have to wait.
Can we learn to simply wait? To allow this waiting time to be grounding time, a time of deeper grounding into the reason for our waiting. To sanctify and beautify the process and the journey.
Can we honour the people we encounter along the way, rather than attribute blame and mistakes to them?
Perhaps this Advent, we can put more effort into catching ourselves before we fall into frustration, into pausing before reacting in anger or hurt, into learning to respond in a healthy and responsible fashion. This is a kind of fasting that is holistic and harmonious with our Christian living.
May we allow the spirit of St Francis of Assisi to inspire our Advent journey, fasting from food and frustration to bring more peace, more joy, and more creative freedom into our world.
Did you know that St Francis of Assisi prescribed fasting from the Feast of All Saints until Christmas, which means about the time of Advent? This prescription was included in both the Earlier Rule of 1221 (a more scriptural and biblical version of Francis’ Rule of Life that was not approved by the Pope) and the Later Rule of 1223 (a legal and canonical version that was approved by Pope Honorius III on 29 Nov).
Let me cite here the two passages, which come from the heart of St Francis, and see what we can take to heart for our spiritual journeying.
Earlier Rule III:11-13 “Let all the brothers fast from the feast of All Saints until the Nativity, and from the Epiphany, when our Lord Jesus Christ began to fast, until Easter. However, at other times, according to this life, let them not be bound to fast except on Fridays. In accordance with the Gospel, it may be lawful for them to eat of all the food that is placed before them.”
Later Rule III:5-14 “Let them fast from the feast of All Saints until the Lord’s Nativity. May those be blessed by the Lord who fast voluntarily during that holy Lent that begins at the Epiphany and lasts during the forty days which our Lord consecrated by His own fast; but those who do not wish to keep it will not be obliged. Let them fast, however, during the other [Lent] until the Lord’s Resurrection. At other times they may not be bound to fast except on Fridays. During a time of obvious need, however, the brothers may not be bound by corporal fast.
I counsel, admonish and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world, but let them be meek, peaceful, modest, gentle, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming… According to the holy Gospel, let them eat whatever food is set before them.”
As we can see, for Francis, fasting was an obligatory practice for both the season of Lent and the season of Advent. However, this was the practice of the Church at that time, as was fasting on Fridays. The optional (“not obliged”) fast was the fast beginning on Epiphany (6 Jan).
For Francis, there were two kinds of fasts: the fast of sorrow and the fast of joy. A fast of sorrow is when food that is delightful for us is sacrificed as an act of penance for sins committed. A fast of joy is when the heart is flooded with such spiritual delights that time at table is punishment and because of this, tendency to sin is diminished. For this reason, it is wonderful to fast because, by this wondrous act of devotion, fasting restores the spirit.
To put it simply, the fast of sorrow deals with our sins that must be expiated, while the fast of joy deals with strengthening ourselves to avoid future sins. It is like training and disciplining the will to choose the good and avoid the bad.
For Francis, fasting was more than bodily fasting. He wanted his friars to fast outwardly and inwardly. Through bodily fasting, we are invited to be kinder and more loving. In the Later Rule, immediately following the prescript on bodily fasting, Francis exhorts the friars not to quarrel or argue, to be meek and gentle and speak courteously. This is indeed an integrated and harmonious approach to fasting and the gradual growth to a life teeming with virtues.
Included in this fasting for his friars was eating what was set before them. Friars are mendicants, in other words, friars are beggars, and beggars can’t be choosers. So, we eat what is given to us.
St Francis only imposed the fasting periods that were enforced by the Church, that is, during the periods of Lent and Advent. But he proposed one more as optional and devotional from the period of Epiphany, which is in the spirit of the fast of joy. The rest of the year is time for friars to be with people, working and, when work does not provide enough, begging for their daily needs.
So, when the friars are not fasting from food, they are fasting from “unkind” behaviour as friars are to be meek and humble in the presence of all they serve, and bring about the Kingdom of Love as St Francis wanted his friars to do.
May Francis’ spirit of fasting, especially for the season of Advent, inspire us to consider the holistic manner of living out our spiritual lives, just as he did in joyful freedom!
“No! It can’t be real!” This was the response of many in St Francis’ time when they discovered that he carried the five wounds of the Crucified Christ after his retreat on Mt Alvernia in the autumn of 1224. But it was real. In fact, nine papal bulls (official communications by the Pope) were written to defend and support this miracle.
How did the Stigmata of St Francis come to pass?
Pope Honorius III formally approved the Rule of the Franciscan Order on 29 November 1223. However, the papal approval did not quash the protests from the brothers against the strictness of Francis’ Form of Life (forma vitae).
Pained by this, Francis felt a compelling need to go to a space of healing so he went up on Mt Alvernia from the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (15 August) until the Feast of St Michael (29 September). Francis had a special devotion to these saints, and wanted their intercession for this difficult struggle.
Between these feasts was the Feast of the Exultation of the Holy Cross (14 September), and Francis was already deeply touched by the Cross in San Damiano when Jesus on this cross called out to him: “Francis, go rebuild my Church, which you see is falling into ruins”.
When Francis was meditating on the Holy Cross during his retreat, he received a glorious vision of the Crucified One in the form of a burning Seraph. This is an angel from the highest choir of angels whose only role is to love and adore God, hence it is burning with love (seraph in Hebrew means “the burning one”).
Mysteriously, in this further wounding, Francis was greatly consoled and found inner peace. It was as if God had given him a bodily answer to the deep question of his heart – “Who are you, O God and who am I?”. The wounds of Christ crucified were now real on his flesh, and this was his desire fulfilled … to become one with his beloved. We become what we love. And as his beloved Christ was brought to new life in the Resurrection, so Francis experienced new life by the grace of consolation and deep peace.
The Franciscan Family entitled the Centenary celebrations “From Wounds to New Life” with the invitation for all of us to follow in Francis’ footsteps, to make real Francis’ experience in our own flesh.
We each have our own journeys with our personal gifts and wounds. The beauty of our journey into God is to keep inflaming our gifts to rebuild God’s Church and, by conforming ourselves to the Crucified Christ, allow God to transform our wounds and pains into new life.
As Francis said before returning home to the Lord, “The Lord has shown me what is mine to do, may He show you yours.”
