October 3rd, 2026, marked the 800th anniversary of what is called, “the Transitus” of St. Francis of Assisi. It is the date upon which one of the greatest loved saints passed over from this world to the next at the age of forty-four. Francis, as depicted on the cover of this week’s bulletin, asked that his clothes be removed and that he be placed upon the floor. He wanted to depart from this world with no material possessions whatsoever. A brother then lent him a tunic so that he would not be completely uncovered. The image reminds us that all of us leave this world with no earthly possession. I remember when I was a kid, one of the priests in our parish would often say, “I have celebrated many funeral Masses as a priest. I want you to know that not one single time was the Wells Fargo Wagon following the hearse to the cemetery.” St. Francis’ life and death invites us to examine ourselves and ask, “To what am I unduly attached? To what do I cling to in such a way that it hinders me from giving myself completely to the Lord?” Is it my pride, my success, my resentments, my bitterness, my pleasures, my possessions, my desire to be esteemed or honored, my free time, my money, my bodily health, my appearance? Sometimes when we go to a wake or a funeral, we see images of the person from when they were much younger and healthier. Those images can be both joyful and sobering. They are joyful because they remind us of better and happier days. They are sobering because we are confronted with how the things of this world pass away. St. Francis asked to be placed naked and upon the floor not because he was miserable, but because he knew that all of us ultimately leave this world possessing nothing. He joyfully embraced his poverty because he knew that all of us–no matter how much we possess–are, in fact, poor. He did not store up earthly treasures because he knew that his true treasure is in heaven. Last Sunday as I was looking out my kitchen window, I saw a young couple and their two little ones coming into church in the pouring rain. They didn’t know I saw them, but their simple little witness of faithful Catholic family life really touched me. They were like God calling down from heaven and saying to me, “Be faithful in your own vocation and in your own duties.” When St. Francis lay dying 800 years ago in a place few had ever heard of, he probably could not have imagined that 800 years later, his example would still be inspiring others to follow Christ and that he would be so loved. He was just faithful to what Christ was asking of him. That is true for all of us. We just never know how our obedience to what Christ calls us to will be used by the Lord for the building up of His Kingdom. St. Francis calls all of us to fidelity. If I may add one little plug! There is still time to sign up for the Pilgrimage to the Shrines of Italy this coming April. Among other places, we will go and be with St. Francis and St. Clare in Assisi (and also St. Carlo Acutis). It is such a deeply moving and transformative place. To all of you, who in varied ways live out your faithful witness, I want to say thank you. Your Brother in Christ, Fr. David Barnes