Look Up

Look Up

One windy summer I was walking alone and breathing in the innocence of the day. Suddenly, I stopped on my tracks for I noticed some teenage girls tinkering with their latest gadgets. They were actually chit-chatting about some popular celebrities whom they consider as their fashion icons. Considering the standards the world offers today, it's no wonder they look up to those celebrities.
In the blink of an eye, the setting changed. I found myself in a coffee shop sitting on one of the steel chairs while reading a newspaper. I noticed that there were "English-zone" moments in the area apparent in the conversations a group of college students were having. They were talking about their professors and of the way those people have inspired them. Yes, they look up to those professors.
Then, there was that blink again and I was transported to my hometown in Samar. I was with my old friends by the beach. With the beautiful sunset in the background, we discussed about our lives and how we see ourselves ten years after. One of my friends was intent on becoming like his father – his model, his hero. Another friend was inspired to become a great writer someday. Thanks to the literary influences of Franz Kafka and Leo Tolstoy. After all my friends shared, my turn came when blink…. the setting changed again.
I heard the buzzing of my alarm clock. It was 5:00 a. m. I woke up with a heavy feeling. I felt uneasy, disturbed. I told myself that yes, it was just a dream. But the thought of it never left me throughout the day. I thought of it as I prepared for the Morning Prayer and the daily Mass. I thought of it as I dined with my community. I thought of it as I rode the bus going to my theological school (ICTC). I thought of it during class. Yes, that dream lingered.
That dream may have lingered (or should I say… may have haunted me?). But actually, it was not an omen nor was it a premonition of death that I should worry about. What really bothered me is the thought of not being able to share about the person whom I look up to or what I would like to become. That thought paralyzed my entire day or two.
After days of soul searching in the labyrinth of that dream, in one sunny morning I finally found the answer. I recognized as bright as the sunlight the person I look up to since I entered the religious order – St. Francis of Assisi. While the world looks up to people who are popular, powerful, and rich, I look up to this man who considered himself as a lesser and worthless creature.
You might think that looking up to this medieval person is outdated. I say no for St. Francis is relevant today and the years to come. He inspires me to learn and follow a life that is worth living – a life that is free from the vanities of this world.
He teaches me that humility is a pillar that each person has to lean on. Every time vanity envelops me, every time I think I am better than my brothers, every time I feel confident about my talents, St. Francis reminds me to boast about nothing but my sins. He had never bragged about anything that he had done. In his littleness, he founded an order called ``lesser brother'' that instilled in those who want to lead this life detachment from greatness and attachment to servitude.
St. Francis makes me see the beauty of simplicity. Every time I cling to the material world, every time I desire for the accidentals and not the essentials, every time I crave for the latest gadgets, he admonishes me about clinging to what is transitory. He enjoins me to focus on that which lasts forever – the Gospel values. St. Francis led a simple and impoverished life. His practice and his choice of that kind of life is an expression of a disposition that is rooted in the love of Christ. St. Francis tells me that love is a way of life. Every time I care less about the people who are being demolished, every time I turn my gaze away from the children who are sleeping on the sidewalks, every time I am indifferent to the sufferings of those who are living in the margins, he challenges me to live in solidarity with the ``lepers'' of the society. St. Francis was so fervent in taking care of the lepers. He loved the poor and this was anchored on a love that is interior, a love that crafts the heart and the soul.
St. Francis is not just a pious discourse like many saints whom many people venerate and adore – not to mention that he is the patron saint of ecology. To borrow the words of G.K. Chesterton, "Francis is not a proper person to be patronized with merely "pretty" stories. There are many number of them; but they are too often used so as to be a sort of sentimental sediment of the medieval world (still existing even today), instead of being, as the saint emphatically is, a challenge to the modern world."
Today, I am more challenged to emulate St. Francis' way of life. His inspiration is not just a dream nor is it just a certain devotion. It is a life to be lived out. It is a life rooted in the Gospel. Since it is clear to me now whom I look up to, my dream no longer haunts me. Now, I am haunted by how I can remain faithful to the friar minor's way of life.
St. Francis of Assisi is the person I look up to. He is loved by people from various religions and even communists. He is universal, transcendental and immortal. He did not compare himself with his followers. That's because he never wanted to appear as their master. Instead, he compared himself with his Master so that he might be the one he was meant to be – a servant. Pope Francis may have already exuded simplicity and servitude, but remember that before there is Pope Francis, there was Francis of Assisi whom I look up to because of his life.
I might dream again of many things and situations, but I know now that when I look up to him, I am not daydreaming nor am I sleepwalking.