Saint Bonaventure: Friar, Teacher, Minister, Bishop: A Celebration of the Eighth Centenary of His Birth

By Franciscan Institute Publications

This volume represents an homage by contemporary scholars to the intellectual genius, the spiritual virtues, and the fraternal love that characterized the life and ministry of Bonaventure of Bagnoregio. It is also an expression of the marvelous state of the ressourcement of the Franciscan Intellectual Tradition now being accomplished in the English-speaking world. For the past several decades, there has been a unique and sustained commitment by Franciscan communities in North America to pursue and support an in-depth study of the sources of the Franciscan movement and to present those findings to the church and world in critical editions, commentaries, books and journals. The partnership between academic scholars and communities of practice in the Franciscan tradition bears fruit in this important new work. This text celebrates the 800th anniversary of the birth of the Seraphic Doctor. It arrives during the 80th anniversary of the Franciscan Institute, an academic research, publication and educational center of the Franciscan Intellectual Tradition at the first Franciscan University in the United States, appropriately dedicated to the memory of the friar, teacher, minister and bishop, St. Bonaventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Franciscan Institute Publications
• Release date: Apr 30, 2021
• ISBN: 9781576594469

Book preview

338.

PART I

KEYNOTE ONE

SACRAMENTS: HEALING UNTO GLORY

J. A. Wayne Hellmann

Throughout our Roman Catholic Tradition, from ancient biblical texts to Laudato Si, we can hear creation singing God’s praise and revealing God to us. —Linda Gibler, OP

After these opening words to her essay,¹ Linda Gibler cites Pope Francis, who, with Saint Francis, invites us to see nature as a magnificent book in which God speaks to us and grants us a glimpse of his infinite beauty and goodness. A few lines later, the pope adds that rather than a problem to be solved, the world is a joyful mystery to be contemplated with gladness and praise (Laudato Si 12). If all the created world is a joyful mystery to be contemplated, are the created visible signs within our sacramental life not by their very nature wonderful mysteries to be contemplated, even before we ask about any sacramental grace received?

Drawing from current scientific views on cosmology, Gibler relates how the story of sacramentals—specifically water, oil, and grain—began over thirteen billion years ago, in the first moment of creation. She traces their story to the earliest time of the cosmos. When hydrogen particles emerged from the original singularity, some of them fused into helium and other elements before the universe began to cool. As atoms formed, the forces of gravity and electromagnetism compressed the atoms into clouds and increased the heat until atoms broke back into protons and electrons, which fused into new elements. With nuclear explosions and great pressure, stars were born. Collisions within the stars formed helium, oxygen, and more elements. These stars eventually collapsed, causing intense explosion which seeded the universe with all remaining elements. At this point, some hydrogen bonded with oxygen, making water. Planets formed, and water was among the elements that moved to the surface of the earth and became oceans. From these waters, life emerged, and even today every living cell comes from, and is sustained by, water.

In those early oceans, oily membranes grew to surround and protect the process that would produce life. Eventually these life forms moved to land and evolved into various plants, including olive trees. Oil has helped to sustain and protect life; it protects our cells and keeps us and our skin healthy.

Some early plants that moved onto land became grasses that propagated by producing new shoots or seeds. Nutrients in the seeds of grain do nurture the seed, but primarily nurture those who consume the grain. Among the creatures who have thrived because of grains are primates and human beings. Even beyond their use as food, grains have been used in religious rites, often as thanksgiving—from Abel’s sacrifice to today’s Eucharistic offerings.

Water, source of life; oil, protection of life; grasses of the earth, nourishment of life are the elements which speak of the basic sacraments of initiation into divine life: Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist. Would approaching each of these elements as a joyful mystery to be contemplated not draw us to into gladness and praise? For Bonaventure, natural created elements in and of themselves are fundamental to sacramental theology and help us understand, appreciate, and receive the sacramental grace that each naturally signifies.

With this appreciation of natural elements in mind, I turn to some texts of St. Bonaventure, taken mostly from the Sentence Commentary and the Breviloquium. After studying his sacramental theology, I am convinced that, at least in the West, we have minimized the role of the sensible (and sensual) external signs in our sacramental theology and have allowed them to be hijacked by an overemphasized Aristotelian metaphysics and canon law.

This essay will consider the role of sensible signs in Bonaventure’s theology and show how he sees them as signifying grace and thereby disposing us to grace. I discuss, first, how Bonaventure understands the place of created signs in the sacraments; second, how, in particular, he understands the natural signs of bread and wine—that is, how these reveal the Eucharistic grace received; and third, the conclusion that all sacraments (especially the Eucharist—and, indeed, all of creation) are ordered to fullness of life in God-conforming glory—that is, by reception of and healing by the Uncreated Gift of Charity, the Holy Spirit.

Role of Created Signs

Bonaventure begins his commentary on the sacraments with a citation from Peter Lombard’s own work on the sacraments: God did not bind his power to the sacraments.² But he adds an important qualification of his own; the sacraments are advantageous for us.³ The advantage is that the sacraments help dispose us to the grace God wishes to give us. They have no power to give grace. Only God bestows grace.

He clarifies this relationship of divine and sacramental power: To dispose is ours with God’s help, but to effect is God’s alone. Therefore, God does not share effective power with anything, but he gives informative power to grace, and dispositive power to the sacraments.⁴ Hence, he adds, the sacraments are a help to grace, and so are not superfluous.

In their created nature, sacramental signs, according to Bonaventure, have no extra power. They are not magical. Yet, by their natural innate created power, they can dispose the heart to the informative power of grace. Through the delivery of the external created sign, the movement of faith is aroused. This power to arouse faith gives the signs mystical character. They must be contemplated if they are to dispose and open our hearts to greater mystery. So, although sacramental signs do not cause grace, they nevertheless prepare [us] for the grace that heals and cures our soul. This disposing for grace is brought about by virtue of [the] natural likeness these signs represent,⁵ by which they dispose us toward grace. Grace itself, however, always is effected solely by God.⁶

The sacramental signs engage us fundamentally and immediately through our senses. In the first instance they are corporeal, in keeping with the fact that God took on the totality of our human nature,⁷ which includes corporeality. For Bonaventure, the contemplation of created realities offers dispositive agency. Their function is to prompt [to facilitate or foster], to instruct, and to humble, always according to the unique signifying nature of each created element.

The human being having been disposed, sacramental grace is then given directly by God according to the specific interior disposition that has been fostered by the created element, and as determined by the nature of each specific natural element, e. g., water, oil, food. In other words, created elements and God’s grace work together. Why this alliance? Because, Bonaventure responds, God has decreed.⁸ This divine action with created elements is consistent with the action of the God of the Covenant. As Pope Francis writes, In the Bible, the God who liberates and saves [by grace] is the same God who created the universe, and these two ways of acting are intimately and inseparably connected.⁹

We return now to Bonaventure’s fundamental stance that sacramental life begins by engagement of the senses with created corporeal realities. He writes, This is because by offering themselves to the senses they cause a person to come to another kind of knowledge.¹⁰ With the articulation of a corresponding word (the prayer that accompanies the use of a natural sign), the natural knowledge of the natural created elements themselves is lifted to a spiritual knowledge. So the first step in sacramental life is to humble ourselves before the sensible elements (such as water, oil, bread, and wine) and allow them to instruct us, move us, and prompt us to open our hearts to receptivity of the gift of God’s grace.

Bonaventure further develops the signification that flows from natural elements. Grace, he writes, is higher than our senses, and the corporeal is nearer to us. Therefore, grace is rightly signified through the latter, [i. e., the corporeal] and not vice versa.¹¹ Thus it is from the visible sign that we perceive and understand the invisible grace given in a sacrament. To put it a bit more strongly, only on the foundation of the created sign are we able to perceive, understand, or receive the sacramental grace given by God. Our sacramental life thrives in that intimate connection between the God who created the elements and the God who offers saving grace.

We thus do not initially identify a particular sacrament from the particular grace given, because signs of sacraments are not identified according to what is signified but, rather, according to the signifying species.¹² For example, Baptism is primarily identified as a washing with water, not as a purifying from original sin. It is from engaging with the signifying species (the signum)—from contemplating what water signifies, for example—that we are disposed to the specific grace (res) given in Baptism. The power to dispose us to a specific grace is what makes the sacraments advantageous for us.

Created elements also support the faith required for every sacrament. As Bonaventure stresses: the movement of faith is aroused through the delivery of the sign [e.g., water], so that something signified [e.g., cleansing] is required, and through this [arousal of faith], we are disposed toward healing grace. That is, sacraments have their capacity for signification from [created] nature,¹³ and they also thereby have the capacity to arouse the faith required. Why? Because of the covenantal connection between creation and salvation, grace is always carried along with them [the sacraments], unless there is a defect on the part of the receiver¹⁴—for example, a lack of faith.

Further underscoring the relationship between the created element and saving grace, Bonaventure cites Hugh of St. Victor, who writes that there are three things in a sacrament: its likeness from creation, its signification from its institution, and its sanctification from blessing.¹⁵ Bonaventure does not exactly repeat what Hugh says, but he writes in a similar vein when he holds that sacraments begin in the natural likeness of created elements and are completed in a spiritual signification with the addition of the word spoken—that is, a word which flows from, or in some way corresponds to, the initial natural signification of the created sign. Thus, the word helps dispose to the reception of a specific grace initially signified in the material element itself. Sacramental medicine, he emphasizes, has signification as its integrity.¹⁶

If the natural signification of created elements opens the door to the grace given by God, then water, oil, and bread, already in their natural created order grant us a glimpse of [God’s] infinite beauty and goodness and are therefore themselves a joyful mystery to be contemplated with gladness and praise.¹⁷ In our approach to the sacraments, Bonaventure encourages—even requires—that we allow ourselves to be humbled, instructed, and disciplined (i.e., have our lives directed) according to contemplative glimpses of the infinite beauty and goodness naturally offered by the signs. These natural signs manifest glory and are the entryway to greater glory.

I conclude this section with a few observations. Can you imagine what it would be like if our catechesis on Baptism began with pondering the story, nature, role, and beauty of Sister Water, who is very useful and humble and precious and chaste?¹⁸ Why begin with the removal of original sin? Or for understanding the sacrament of Anointing, what if we began with experiencing the protective, soothing, healing role of natural oil in and on our own bodies? Could catechesis on the Eucharist not begin by exploring the beauty of the grasses that produce seed-bearing grain and fruit? Why begin with transubstantiation?

Do we not often miss the contemplative and mystical dimensions essential for full, sensual sacramental life? In fact, I believe Bonaventure would say we undermine the significance of our sacraments when we approach them backwards. For example, we forget about the bread and begin with the body and blood of Christ. How much do we miss in our sacramental theology if we fail to begin with the embrace of God’s creation?

THE SIGNS OF BREAD AND WINE AND EUCHARISTIC GRACE

How then does Bonaventure apply to the elements of bread and wine his understanding of their natural signification?

In his Sentences Commentary, he begins his discussion on the Eucharist by declaring how it was appropriate that the sacrament was instituted at the Last Supper, instituted as a sign of love. This is because when one departs, it is appropriate for one to show signs of love and remembrance, so that In this sacrament, as he explains, there is truly food, the principal sign of love and in so far as it is refreshing, it is therefore instituted at the time of refreshment.¹⁹

Bonaventure reflects on these visible elements of bread and wine to argue that this sacrament was suitably instituted at the Last Supper. He also identifies the Eucharistic grace given: although Christ is contained in it, and there is the fullness of grace, nevertheless, the grace given in the Eucharist is a specific grace for the particular effect of a meal.²⁰ A meal nourishes the body, but, if truly a meal, it is a sharing of life and love.

The food at this meal is bread and wine, as ordered for human consumption. Therefore, if bread becomes inedible or wine undrinkable—for example, if crumbs fall on the floor or wine is spilled on the altar cloth (or if the consecrated elements are found in the stomach of a mouse)—the natural form of food ordered toward human eating and drinking has been lost. As a result, the crumbs of bread or drops of wine are no longer sacramental signs, for the signs of food and drink are ordered only to human use, namely for eating²¹ and drinking. Bonaventure takes seriously the natural meaning and purpose of these elements.

He continues his commentary: Through these things that are customary according to nature, in which life is conserved, the most fitting food is bread from grain, and wine. This food from grain and wine is efficacious in that it emboldens, because it provides strength, and wine, because it causes rejoicing.²²

Are both elements necessary? He appeals to the natural connection of the two. It is bread and wine together, he insists, that form the integrity of one sacramental sign. In a meal, it is simply natural to eat and drink. Therefore, both components belong to [the sacrament’s] integrity… . [For] perfect refreshment is not in the bread alone nor in the wine alone, but in both.²³ This is because in nature full refreshment comes only from both of them together, and these two are thus disposed to signify one refreshment.²⁴ Notice that whatever is the norm in the use of bread and wine in nature is also the norm in sacramental life.

Because natural use is not signified as refreshing in just one of them [bread or wine], but in both of them together, he writes, each element bears [its own] distinct signification.²⁵ In the sacramental presence, bread signifies only the body, and the wine signifies only the blood. This means that full participation in the sacrament is through both the natural sign of eating bread and the natural sign of drinking wine.

How, Bonaventure asks, is one to partake in this meal of loving remembrance? He here asks about the proper interior disposition. From Augustine (through Lombard), he next takes up and develops the distinction between eating sacramentally and eating spiritually.

Sacramental eating means consuming with intention. This is required for any sacramental act. One must eat with the intent of taking in something spiritual. Sacramental eating requires that the sacrament first truly exist and [that there be] a person who intends to eat it as a sacrament.²⁶ Therefore, if, at a dinner party, one drank consecrated wine that someone had inadvertently poured into a glass, that would not be sacramental drinking, for there would be neither intention nor recognition of the wine as a sacramental sign. Nonsacramental eating or drinking can also occur if one has no faith, or even if one is simply distracted.

However, intentionally eating and drinking sacramentally does not satisfy for full participation in the meaning or purpose of the sacrament. Simply eating and drinking the sacrament as a sacrament (even with faith) does not in itself mean there is reception of grace. For this, one must also eat spiritually, which means one must ponder consciously and deliberately the full signifying nature of bread and wine. In other words, to share in the fruit, scope, and purpose of sacramental signs, one must be interiorly disposed. In Bonaventure’s words, one must eat not only sacramentally but, even more significant, eat spiritually, as well.

Understanding this spiritual eating is important for grasping the connection between the external sign and the grace given by God. In order that the external sign may dispose us for the reception of the grace God gives in the Eucharist, the consecrated bread must be eaten spiritually. The fullness of the Eucharistic gift involves not only the body and blood of Christ, but also what is mediated by the body and blood of Christ, namely, the Uncreated Gift, the Holy Spirit transforming us. Spiritual eating is required to partake in this transformative fullness of the sacrament.

Some receive with the mouth of the body, writes Bonaventure. These receive sacramentally. Others eat with the mouth of the heart. These receive spiritually.²⁷ As noted above, sacramental eating with the mouth means to eat the sacrament and to eat it as a sacrament.²⁸ But without an interior disposition of heart, the full spiritual reality of the goal of the sacrament, the Uncreated Gift of the Spirit, is not received. Simple eating with the mouth does not move the heart to be open to reception of the grace for the particular effect of a meal. For that, there must be an eating with the affection of the heart, moved by charity. In effect, spiritual eating presumes an already existing spiritual communion which in turn is deepened and perfected. Spiritual eating, then, includes both faith and charity.²⁹ So both faith and affection of love are prerequisites for partaking of the sacrament. Bonaventure uses the images of chewing and swallowing to explain what this is all about:

Spiritual chewing is reflecting on the food, namely the flesh of Christ offered for us with respect to the price of our redemption and respect to food as our refreshment. Swallowing is reached when one reflects with the love of charity and is joined to what is reflected upon. In this way, one is swallowed into the body, and when one is swallowed into the body, one is refreshed and is made more similar.³⁰

Disposing ourselves interiorly is crucial for participation so that, through spiritual eating and drinking, we are moved by reflection on the passion of Christ, reflection which increases our desire to be transformed into his Mystical Body. In the affection of love, or charity, we receive the grace God offers us in this sacrament. Our affection is a loving desire to be swallowed up [incorporated] into His Body, namely, into his Mystical Body, in order to be united more deeply with Christ our Head, within the communion of all God’s saints. In this, Eucharistic grace is received.

As a corollary, Bonaventure emphasizes that preparing for the Eucharist by a proper spiritual engagement with the signifying signs of bread and wine is fundamental.

To the end, that someone eats spiritually, two things are required: reflection of faith and affection of charity. Thus, not just any sort of faith is sufficient, but, rather what is necessary is a faith operating through love.³¹

These two—reflective faith and affective charity—are key, because it is we who are changed and incorporated into the food rather than the other way around.³² Only in reflection of faith and affection of charity does the full signifying power of the bread and wine have this effect. Here Bonaventure remembers a passage from a sermon of St. Augustine: So it’s you that are the body of Christ and its members; it’s the mystery, meaning you, that has been placed on the Lord’s table.³³ Bonaventure appeals to this Augustinian text to identify the Mystical Body, signified by the sacramental Body.

The final res or purpose of eating and drinking in the Eucharist is to receive the uncreated gift of the Holy Spirit, who transforms us into the Mystical Body with Christ our Head. Thus, Bonaventure exclaims with St. Augustine: O signum unitatis! O vinculum caritatis!

Now, to summarize and conclude this second part, spiritual eating brings forward the notions of the Last Supper as a meal of loving remembrance and of food as sign of love. In all the sacraments, especially through Christ’s Body and Blood, the grace of the Holy Spirit is encountered and received by those who approach them.³⁴ The Body and Blood of Christ contained in the Eucharist, under the signs of bread and wine, draw us into the burning love of the Holy Spirit, by which gift the stream of mutual love [of Father and Son] flows into us,³⁵ and we are thereby more fully incorporated into the Mystical Body.³⁶ All of this means that spiritual eating demands intentional interior preparation.

Bonaventure leaves open the question of how often one should eat and drink the Eucharist. It all depends on one’s degree of interior preparation. It is left to the judgment and conscience of each individual to receive when one considers one is prepared … . This, he adds, can only be learned through experience.³⁷ For some it is more useful to receive frequently and for others it is better to receive rarely. However, he concludes, it is better to partake in one Mass with good preparation than in many if one has not prepared diligently.³⁸

How exquisitely Bonaventure opens the depth of the signs of bread and wine that are to instruct us, humble us, and prompt us toward the spiritual discipline of engaging them. Diligent preparation for spiritual eating does not bypass the natural signs. Reflecting upon them disposes the heart for the effectiveness of grace.

I conclude this section with two observations from Bonaventure on visible signs in the Eucharist. First, in the Breviloquium, he writes that it was therefore necessary:

…that the Body and Blood of Christ be imparted under the veil of the most sacred symbols and [must] be means of congruous and expressive likenesses. Nothing is better suited for food and drink than bread and wine. Furthermore, nothing is a more appropriate symbol of the unity of the body of Christ, physical and mystical, than is bread which is made of many spotless grains, and wine, that is pressed together from choicest grapes.³⁹

He reflects that bread and wine, grains and pressed grapes, signify the unity of Christ’s Body and Blood sacramentally present, and also the unity of the Mystical Body.

Second, earlier in the Sentence Commentary, he draws from Augustine and makes the same assertion:

It must be said that the res of this sacrament is twofold, namely the true Body of Christ and the Mystical Body. Because signs are instituted for the res of the signified, such signs ought to be those which of their very nature were born to express both. Since the Mystical Body is of many joined into one, such elements ought to be those that produce one out of many. Such is bread because bread is of many spotless grains. So also wine, which is of many spotless grapes. In addition, the true body of Christ is contained in this sacrament as food, not just as any food, but as suitable food, effective food, healing food, and food available to all. Now the most fitting food [possessing these properties] is bread from grain and wine… as people are accustomed and as is customary according to nature.⁴⁰

Bonaventure sees that both the sacramentally present Body of Christ and the Mystical Body are rooted in the same natural signs of bread and wine. He takes up the long tradition of spiritual chewing that began with Augustine. Spiritual chewing is about pondering the natural visible created signs in order to understand and foster our desire for participation in the final God- conforming glory of the Mystical Body.

CONCLUSION: HEALING UNTO GLORY

In Gibler’s reflection on the long history of our sacramental signs, especially water, oil, and the grain and grapes of various grasses, we were led, with Pope Francis, to regard nature as a magnificent book, a glimpse of God’s infinite beauty and goodness, and a joyful mystery to be contemplated. Having emerged long ago, these three sacramental signs mediate a glimpse of God’s infinite beauty and goodness. And in our contemplation, there is mystical meaning in a leaf, in a mountain trail [and] we [thereby] learn to encounter God in creatures outside ourselves.⁴¹ That movement outside of ourselves is, in itself, the beginning of healing.

For Bonaventure, the sacramental signs are foundational for the whole of sacramental theology, and they involve the whole human being. To baptize is to immerse the whole body in water (though a few drops of water on the head will suffice in an emergency). To anoint the five senses of the sick with natural olive oil signifies massaging the whole body with oil. Bread and wine are to be shared according to common human usage. From these sensual experiences we are moved to, disposed to, and come to increasingly yearn for the spiritual reality of God’s grace, which is first signified in the natural signs themselves. These signs not only signify these [spiritual] realities, but also arouse [the sacrament’s] recipients to attain them so that these elements accomplish what they signify.⁴²

Material realities arouse and cultivate desire for spiritual reality. They are not instruments that cause grace. Only God gives grace, but natural signs already proclaim the wonder and goodness of God. Gibler’s vision of the origin and ongoing role of sacramentals is in keeping with Bonaventure’s: the primal production of the world ought to contain the seeds of all things that would later be accomplished, even as prefiguration of future ages.⁴³ From these primal seeds, each [creature] returns to its Maker proportionately as much beauty as it has perfection and order; each in its own way representing its Principle.⁴⁴ Sensible signs of the sacraments, then, are the starting point. They are the divine fingerprints, and through these things humanity might ascend to loving and praising the Creator of the universe.⁴⁵ They are to lead humankind to love and praise God.⁴⁶ This brings us to the redemptive or restorative principle of sacramental grace, but before that restoration we must necessarily engage the works of creation.⁴⁷ To ponder creation is the beginning of sacramental life.

Created signs of infinite goodness, again, are not causes of grace. Rather, as creatures, they are our companions on the journey. They inspire and foster our desire for the goodness and beauty they represent. They are indeed advantageous for us, provided we allow them to humble, instruct, and discipline us.

Humble contemplation of sacramental signs brings us to knowledge of the effective Principle, which is God the Creator without which the restorative Principle cannot be known, which is Christ our Savior and Mediator.⁴⁸ Created signs thus open the door to the mystery of the Incarnate Word, who in every sacramental grace mediates the healing and restoring gift of the Holy Spirit.

Bonaventure often uses the terms of healing and restoring in reference to the sacraments, especially in the Breviloquium. Sin is the forsaking of what is better,⁴⁹ and sickness is the subsequent burden of guilt holding [us] down.⁵⁰ To be relieved from the burden of guilt, sinners need the power of an indwelling grace, the fire of love to lift them up.⁵¹ Bonaventure even speaks of the sacraments as medicine: They make us ready to receive perfect health, he writes, and "health comes with glory, of which the Psalm speaks: It is he who forgives all your guilt, who heals every one of your ills [102:3]. He does this in the life of glory."⁵² We are to be lifted into the life of glory by the fire of love, which heals and liberates from the burdens that hold us down. Thus, ultimate health comes with ultimate glory. In the sacraments, we receive grace that heals us unto glory. Our restoration to health is restoration unto glory.

Bonaventure describes the final glory of paradise as the glory of heaven, where the soul possesses the highest good: God-conforming glory is what heals the soul so it can be fully alive…wholly conformed to God…fully united with God, completely at rest in God.⁵³ He further identifies God-conforming glory as that perfect love of the countless blessed angels and human beings where each will rejoice for every other as for himself: the human heart will scarcely be able to contain its own joy that will belong to it from so great a good.⁵⁴

Is this description of final glory not similar to his description of the effect of Eucharistic grace when describing the Mystical Body?

…the sacrament of communion and love accomplishes what it signifies. Now what most enkindles us toward mutual love and most fully unites the members is the oneness of the Head. It is from him that a stream of mutual love flows into us by means of the all-pervading, unifying, and transforming power that his love possesses.⁵⁵

Mediated through Christ, present sacramentally in bread and wine, the fire of love—the Uncreated Gift of the Spirit—lifts us from burdens and transforms us into a bond of charity, the vinculum caritatis. This is the grace of the Mystical Body—the sacramental grace already present for us in the Eucharist. But that grace is also the glory of paradise, bestowing unity and healing, a joy the human heart will scarcely be able to contain. But unity and healing extend even beyond human beings.

When he treats the final glory of paradise, Bonaventure does not forget the sacramental signs that started us out on the journey unto glory. Indeed, when the number of elect is completed, the bodies of the universe also shall, in some sense, be made new and [shall be] rewarded …. all the elements will be cleansed and renewed.⁵⁶ Even vegetative and lower sensitive beings will be glorified in the glorification of humankind, which is kin to creatures of every species. Thus all things will be made new and, in a certain sense, rewarded in the renovation and glorification of humanity.⁵⁷ Pope Francis reaffirms this perspective: At the end, in the glory of eternal life, there will be a shared experience of awe, in which each creature, resplendently transfigured, will take its rightful place."⁵⁸

How wonderful a sacramental vision that our own kin, created sacramental elements, our brothers and sisters—water, oil, and grass formed long before us—now accompany us in the sacramental healing of our disorders and go forward with us into future glory—the intimation of which they first mediated to us.

_______________

¹ The Heavens are Telling the Glory of God: Cosmic History of the Sacraments, Offerings 10 (2017): 4-14.

² IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 1, resp. (4, 12); Sacraments , 47.

³ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 1, resp. (4, 12); Sacraments , 47.

⁴ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 1, ad obj. 1 (4, 12); Sacraments , 48.

⁵ Brev , 6.1.3 (5, 265), Breviloquium , 213.

⁶ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 4, con. 6 (4, 20); Sacraments , 63.

⁷ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 1, con. 3 (4, 11); Sacraments , 46.

⁸ Brev , 6. 1. 5. (5, 265); Breviloquium , 213.

⁹ Laudato Si ’ n. 73: http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html .

¹⁰ IV , Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 2, 3 (4, 13); Sacraments , 50.

¹¹ IV , Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 2, ad obj. 2 (4, 15); Sacraments , 53.

¹² IV Sent , d. 2, a. 1, q. 2, ad obj. 3 (4, 52).

¹³ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 2, ad obj. 4 (4, 15); Sacraments , 54.

¹⁴ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 3, resp. (4, 17); Sacraments , 58.

¹⁵ IV Sent , d. 1, p. 1, au., q. 2, ad obj. 5 (4, 15); Sacraments , 54.

¹⁶ IV Sent , d. 1, p 1, au., q. 2, resp. (4, 14); Sacraments , 52.

¹⁷ See Laudato Si’ n, 12: http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html .

¹⁸ See Ctc 7, in FAED 1, 114.

¹⁹ IV Sent , d. 8, p. 1, a. 1, q. 2, resp. (4, 182); Sacraments , 188.

²⁰ IV Sent , d. 2, a. 1, q. 3, ad obj. 2 (4, 53); Sacraments , 96.

²¹ IV Sent , d. 13, a. 2, q. 1, resp. (4, 308); Sacraments , 333.

²² IV Sent , d. 11, p. 2, a. 1, q. 1, resp. (4, 255); Sacraments , 265.

²³ IV Sent , d. 11, p. 2, a. 1, q. 2, resp. (4, 257); Sacraments , 269.

²⁴ IV Sent , d. 8, p. 2, a. 2, q. 2, resp. (4, 198); Sacraments , 210.

²⁵ IV Sent , d. 11, p. 2, a. 1, q. 2, resp. (4, 257); Sacraments , 268.

²⁶ IV Sent , d. 9, a. 1, q. 3 resp. (4, 205); Sacraments , 222.

²⁷ IV Sent , d. 9, a. 1, q. 1, resp. (4, 202); Sacraments , 215.

²⁸ IV Sent , d. 9, a. 1, q. 3, resp. (4, 204-205); Sacraments , 221.

²⁹ IV Sent , d. 9, a 1, q 1, ad obj. 5 (4, 202); Sacraments , 215.

³⁰ IV Sent , d. 9, a. 1, q. 2, resp. (4, 203); Sacraments , 217.

³¹ IV Sent , d. 9, a. 1, q. 2, resp. (4, 203); Sacraments , 218.

³² IV Sent , d. 9, a, 1, q. 2, ad obj. 3 (4, 204); Sacraments , 218.

³³ Augustine, Sermo 272 ( PL 38, 1247); see footnote 14 in Sacraments , 218.

³⁴ Brev , 6.1.5 (5, 265); Breviloquium , 213.

³⁵ Brev , 6.9.3 (5, 276); Breviloquium , 241.

³⁶ Brev , 6.9.1 (5, 273); Breviloquium , 239.

³⁷ IV Sent , d. 12, p. 2, a. 2, q. 2, resp. (4, 296); Sacraments , 310.

³⁸ IV Sent , d. 12, p. 2, a. 2, q. 2, ad obj. 1 (4, 296); Sacraments , 311.

³⁹ Brev , 6.9.4 (5, 274); Breviloquium , 242-243.

⁴⁰ IV Sent , d. 11, p. 2, a. 1, q. 1, resp. (4, 254-255); Sacraments , 264-265.

⁴¹ Laudato Si’ n. 235 cites Bonaventure, II Sent , d. 23, a. 2, q. 3, resp. (2, 543). See http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html .

⁴² Brev , 6.9.3 (5, 274); Breviloquium , 237.

⁴³ Brev , 2.2.5 (5, 220); Breviloquium , 65.

⁴⁴ Brev , 2.2.5 (5, 220); Breviloquium , 65.

⁴⁵ Brev , 2.4.5 (5, 222); Breviloquium , 71.

⁴⁶ Brev , 2.11.2 (5, 229); Breviloquium , 94.

⁴⁷ Brev , 2.5.2 (5, 222); Breviloquium , 72-73.

⁴⁸ See also Brev , 2.5.2 (5, 222); Breviloquium , 72-73.

⁴⁹ Brev , 3.1.4 (5, 229); Breviloquium , 101.

⁵⁰ Brev , 7.2.6 (5, 283); Breviloquium , 272.

⁵¹ See also Brev , 7.2.6 (5, 283); Breviloquium , 272.

⁵² IV Sent , prol. (4, 3); Sacraments , 37.

⁵³ Brev , 7.7.3 (5, 289); Breviloquium , 294.

⁵⁴ Brev , 7.7.8 (289); Breviloquium , 299.

⁵⁵ Brev , 6.9.2 (5, 274); Breviloquium , 241.

⁵⁶ Brev , 7.4.2 (5, 284-285); Breviloquium , 277-278.

⁵⁷ Brev , 7.4.7 (5, 285); Breviloquium , 281.

⁵⁸ Laudato Si’ n. 243: http://w2.vatican.va/content/francesco/en/encyclicals/documents/papa-francesco_20150524_enciclica-laudato-si.html .

WHO WAS BONAVENTURE?

INSIGHTS FROM THE 1200S–1500S

"IN GIVING UP ONE’S OWN WILL": FRANCIS’S

HUMILITY IN BONAVENTURE’S LEADERSHIP OF

THE FRANCISCAN ORDER

Heather A. Christie

At first glance, Bonaventure’s place in history as a theological, educational, and administrative powerhouse, with a mission to put the early Franciscan Order on a sustainable, even keel and defend it against its external detractors and internal ructions, does not appear entirely congruent with the preservation of Francis of Assisi’s conception of humility in his Order.¹ Where would the hallmarks of Francis’s humility, such as subjection, self-sacrifice, inversion, and freedom from worldly constraints, be found in such a man, such a mission, and such an environment?² Bonaventure evidently had a deep admiration of, and devotion to, Francis’s spiritual legacy, and accorded him a crucial and honored place in the trajectory of Christianity, but the lives and experiences of the two men appear, in other respects, poles apart.³ However, by closely examining their attitudes to and advocacy of learning and education, one of those very points on which they are often perceived to differ, it is possible to demonstrate that both men actually sought to maintain the same, or certainly a similar, underlying spirit of humility in the First Order whilst it was under their care.⁴ Humility may have been an end for Francis but only a means to the end of the truth through scholarship for Bonaventure, as contended by John Moorman.⁵ However, William Cook’s suggestion might be closer to the mark, that Bonaventure recognized the shortcomings and hazards of scholarship but also understood its criticality for those Franciscans without Francis’s exceptionally gifted understanding of God.⁶ Bonaventure argues for himself on this point through the Constitutions of Narbonne, which indicate that:

When the ministers conduct their visitation of the brothers, they should have them turn over their books and other belongings to them. And if they should discover someone who has books which he does not need, they are to distribute these at the provincial chapter, with the advice of the definitors, to those who do not have them and are capable of drawing the most fruit from them for the care of souls.⁷

Clearly emphasizing books as means to an end rather than ends in themselves, such an instruction supports Cook’s rather than Moorman’s position. Regardless, neither perspective precludes the possibility that the same, or a similar, essential understanding of humility infused both men’s leadership of the Order.

This article’s assessment of Bonaventure’s leadership on learning and education is only a small portion of a much wider doctorate project to examine the translation of Francis’s conception of humility, characterized by subjection, self-sacrifice, inversion, and freedom from worldly constraints, into the early Order. The article’s argument will be based around two main points observed in this broader study. Firstly, on many occasions when Bonaventure appeared to take a different route to one Francis would have advocated, a conception of humility that is shared with Francis is discernible in the attitude behind Bonaventure’s decision or action. Secondly, in fact Bonaventure often went above and beyond the positions initially advocated by Francis for the group to preserve this shared conception of humility within the First Order. Both courses of action make sense and, indeed, seem natural if Bonaventure intended to perpetuate the Christ-like and apostolic Franciscan life as an example to bring people to Christ in the last days.⁸ An alternative, or perhaps supplementary, theory might suggest that Bonaventure’s interpretation of the Rule in the light of this honed and articulated mission, as well as a wealth of other theological and philosophical sources and environmental imperatives, could account for visible differences in policy between the two men, rather than any neglect of humility on Bonaventure’s part.⁹ A close examination of Bonaventure’s leadership reveals that he was in fact probing Francis’s intent toward humility and seeking means of elaborating on, renovating, and rejuvenating it within the Order, rather than pushing it aside or replacing it. Therefore, despite the institutionalization of the group, an expanded range of responsibilities, an evolving demographic profile, and Bonaventure’s level of education and proclivity for comparatively learned approaches to spirituality, Francis’s basic conception of humility appears evident in Bonaventure’s leadership of the First Order.¹⁰

LEARNING AND EDUCATION: BONAVENTURE TAKING A DIFFERENT PATH TO FRANCIS?

Let us first consider instances, around the case study of learning and education, where Bonaventure appeared to take a route different to one Francis would have advocated but, on closer inspection, was in fact working to preserve Francis’s humility. By way of particularly relevant background, Bonaventure set his direction for the First Order based on his assessment of Francis’s prototype and instructions, considering these in the light of the Gospels, a refined interpretation of Christ’s example to humankind, the history of the Church, and the Order’s place in that history.¹¹ The preceding sentence represents a book in itself but the combination of these factors, and the effect on Bonaventure’s attitudes towards Francis and the Order, is perhaps best illustrated by the following passage from Bonaventure’s Defense of the Mendicants, where he seamlessly interweaves these elements together in his discussion of the Sacred Scripture, teachers of the truth, and the holy fathers who founded religious orders as the three parts to evangelical perfection, and the relation of these parts, in turn, to Christ’s example, the Sermon on the Mount, and eventually Francis’s Rule.¹² The passage is referring, at its commencement, to the Beatitudes:

As a confirmation of this truth, Blessed Francis, the father of the poor, proposed at the beginning of his Rule that the first three are to be vowed because of their fundamental character. He said: ‘The Rule and Life of the Lesser Brothers is this: to observe the Holy Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ by living in obedience, without anything of one’s own, and in chastity.’ But he recommended the other three later as desirable complements and said: ‘Let the brothers pay attention to what they must desire above all else: to have the Spirit of the Lord and Its holy activity, to pray always to Him with a pure heart, to have humility and patience in persecution and infirmity, and to love those who persecute, rebuke and find fault with us.’ Here Francis touches on the other three points, for he first mentions elevation to God and finally adds condescension toward one’s neighbour. Between these he places patience with enemies. Therefore, in the first three the perfect man is crucified to the world. In the next three he is made to conform to God. Like a six-winged seraph, he is elevated above the things of the world and carried aloft to the divine. How fittingly, then, in the seraphic apparition, did Christ impress his stigmata as a sign of approbation upon the holy little poor man who perfectly served and perfectly taught the perfection of the Gospel, so that he might show us a clear sign of the way of perfection against the dangerous darkness of the final times. By this sign we may return to Christ, the exemplar and goal of perfect virtue, and through this sign we may learn how to attain perfection, provided we learn ‘not to set our minds on high things, but to agree with the lowly.’¹³

Bonaventure did not seek to undermine the value of humility in Francis’s religio, rather to place it in its larger theological context, tracing it back through other Church influences, to Christ’s words themselves. Accordingly, regarding the contentious and connected issues of learning and clericalization, Bonaventure’s encouragement to the First Order, that it grow in knowledge and a certain type of sophistication, is considered by him a natural, God-honoring progression, not a regression away from Francis’s concept of humility:

Let it not disturb you that in the beginning our brothers were simple and unlettered; rather, this very fact ought to strengthen your faith in the Order. For I confess before God that what made me love St. Francis’s way of life so much was that it is exactly like the origin and the perfection of the Church itself, which began first with simple fishermen and afterwards developed to include the most illustrious and learned doctors. You find the same thing in the Order of St. Francis; in this way God reveals that it did not come about through human calculations but through Christ. For since the works of Christ do not diminish but ceaselessly grow, this undertaking was proved to be God’s doing when wise men did not disdain to join the company of simple folk. They heeded the Apostle: If you think you are wise…you should become fools so that you may become wise [1 Cor 3:18]. So I beg you, dear friend, be not too fully convinced in your own mind [Rom 14:5], nor believe yourself wiser or better than all the men God has called to this way of life; rather, if he has called you, do not refuse him.¹⁴

Like Francis, Bonaventure envisaged the Order as carrying on the true apostolic life, albeit with a more noticeable emphasis on the Apostles’ regime rather than a literal imitation of Christ.¹⁵ In Bonaventure’s conception, this tradition was achieved by replicating the growth and development of the Church, not a model Francis himself had directly canvassed, as far as I have been able to ascertain.¹⁶ Despite such a marked variance in methodology, the above quote clearly highlights the direct line perceived by Bonaventure between himself and Francis, with humility before Christ’s example, as well as knowledge to some degree and of some nature, at the core of both positions.¹⁷ Further, the fundamental position that the Church, and the Order, needed both clever and simple folk was clearly shared by both men.¹⁸

However, beneath this overarching agreement, a crucial apparent disagreement requires exploration. Francis expressly wished each Friar Minor to remain largely in the intellectual state in which they entered the Order, a position Bonaventure acknowledged in a letter prior to becoming minister-general:

But what shall I say about those who take the professor’s chair, since the Rule declares that ‘those who are illiterate should not be eager to learn?’ Also, the Gospel says that we should not be called ‘master’ [Mt 23:10]. I maintain that the Rule does not forbid study to the literate, but to lay brothers and those who are uneducated. For, following the Apostle, St. Francis wished everyone to remain in the condition in which he received his call [1 Cor 7:24], so that no lay brother should ascend to the clerical state; on the other hand, he did not want clerics to become lay brothers by rejecting study.¹⁹

Bonaventure then proceeded to cite Francis himself to assert that learning, assuming it is spiritually appropriate and for the good of the institution, is permissible and indeed inevitable in some circumstances:

Otherwise he himself [Francis] would have been a transgressor of the Rule, for though he was not very well educated as a youth, he later advanced in learning in the Order, not only by praying but also by reading.²⁰

Bonaventure’s consequent governance undoubtedly features an uneasy, and well-recognized, tension. On the one hand sits his belief in a carefully designed nexus between intellectual and spiritual growth.²¹ On the other, a desire to maintain humility before God and others, a goal to which both he and Francis were committed.²² The resulting practical combination of these elements can best be illustrated by the following stipulation from the Constitutions of Narbonne:

Since God has called us not only for our own salvation but also for the edification of others by examples, counsels, and wholesome exhortations, we ordain that no one may be received into our Order unless he is the kind of cleric who has received competent instruction in grammar or logic, or unless he is the sort of cleric or layman whose entrance would bring renown to the Order and be a great source of edification among the people and clergy.²³

As a leader, Bonaventure confirmed that the brothers should, ideally, stay within the path set for them by God but also that practical reinterpretation of this vision was possible, with the underlying Franciscan motivation towards humility and the contemporary needs of the Order addressed simultaneously.²⁴

Such utilitarian concessions, necessitated by differing circumstances and encouraged by Bonaventure’s unique perspectives on Franciscan learning and mission, do not necessarily negate or dismiss the existence of a desire, on Bonaventure’s part, to inculcate Francis’s humility in his leadership of the First Order.²⁵ Humility with each other remained paramount despite disparate abilities and types of education, exemplified by Bonaventure’s exhortations to humility found in his Instructions for Novices and the Constitutions of Narbonne items about the novitiate.²⁶ Those who did have learning or education were to use it judiciously, just as Francis had asked Anthony of Padua to do, not to encourage curiosity or enable distractions.²⁷ So no inherent problem with such knowledge existed for either Francis or Bonaventure, just a shared abhorrence of the pretension that might arise from it to strangle personal and communal humility.²⁸

Thus, although Bonaventure may appear to have been taking a different route to one Francis would have advocated in relation to learning and education, a similar essential conception of humility is detectable in Bonaventure’s motivations and actions. Let us now consider instances, again around the case study of learning and education, where Bonaventure went above and beyond positions that Francis initially advocated for the group to preserve a shared conception of humility.

LEARNING AND EDUCATION: BONAVENTURE GOING ABOVE AND BEYOND

By referring to and incorporating into the emerging Franciscan tradition the insights of earlier Church thinkers, Bonaventure sought to more clearly define and situate Francis’s definition of humility, rather than undermine it. For example, in his Defense of the Mendicants, in addition to positioning the Franciscans in a schema that included secular and regular clergy, Bonaventure reached back to Augustine, to delineate and articulate the link between religious life and humility in passages such as this one:

Again Augustine, describing the form of life of those following a rule, says, as it is found in the First Question of the Twelfth Cause: Since brothers of our congregation have renounced not only their possessions, but also their own wills by their very reception into our order…it is certain that they should not have, possess, give or accept anything without their superior’s permission.²⁹

For Bonaventure, the degree of external poverty possible for humankind was, in fact, a measure of obedience, which itself was the outcome of humility, the giving away of one’s will.³⁰ He did not, therefore, question the need for Francis’s humility, but he did challenge the Order’s adherence to its Rule, its success in fulfilling the humility implied in its precepts, and the message sent to society by the First Order’s behaviour. Deeds, not words, were compromising Franciscan humility and the First Order’s position as Lesser Brothers, as Bonaventure points out in detail in his First Encyclical Letter of 1257 and his second of 1266.³¹ In the First Encyclical, Bonaventure urges his readers to:

Be courageous in uprooting the abuses that have crept in, even if the brothers see this action as too drastic…. Actually, the perfection of our profession requires it, the present distressing situation demands it, the whole world around us is clamoring for it. Saint Francis too is loudly crying out for it, as does the sprinkled blood of Christ [See Heb 9:13-14] and the Lord on high.³²

Note the argument’s movement from the friars’ profession, to the situation, to the world, or from Francis, to Christ, and to God. Francis’s desire for his Order’s humility is foregrounded by Bonaventure. Specifically, he clearly recognized and perpetuated Francis’s emphasis on humility in action.³³

Within this broader framework of encouraging humility in action, the Constitutions of Narbonne, and subsequent clarifications, generally support adherence to the Rule on big and small matters.³⁴ Nevertheless, a curious adjustment process is simultaneously ongoing, with noticeably frequent references to need and immediacy engendering some flexibility in situations such as shoe-wearing and horse-riding.³⁵ Intriguingly, these adjustments sit alongside other clarifications through which Bonaventure goes further, or is more explicit, than Francis in placing Rule-related requirements on the brothers; for example, in regards to receiving money, the holding of goods and office (especially academic office), travelling, the appearance of clothing and friaries, the work friars were to do, disciplinary processes all the way up to the minister-general, and ministering to the sisters.³⁶ Although such measures may be read as simply giving concrete and particular form to the Order’s commitment to material poverty, they were, more fundamentally, specifically designed to project a consistent message of internal and physical humility to the world:

Any excess in regards to tunics, bedding, mantles, and footwear should be corrected by appropriate reprimands. In this way everything which pertains to the dress of the brothers might always stand out for its austerity, coarseness, and poverty, in imitation of our fathers.³⁷

In his second encyclical letter, Bonaventure is explicit about the rationale for such additional measures:

Eliminate the reason for all this running around and begging, namely, the increasingly lavish style of our buildings and books, clothing and food. The way that we live ought to be in harmony with the high profession we have made.³⁸

If these two trends, of some flexibility based on necessity and additionally stringent requirements, seem somewhat contradictory, contemplated together they illuminate an increased prominence placed on cultivating an underlying attitude of humility in the brothers’ observance of their Rule, even in the provision of education.

A particularly relevant area in which Bonaventure starts with the humility present in the Rule, but codifies additional process and detail to strengthen and give administrative form to the intent, is the practice of visitation to the provinces, which is clarified in terms of frequency and order of action to ensure fairness of procedure and consistency.³⁹ Interestingly, specific attention is paid to the maintenance of humility in the Paris house:

We furthermore ordain that the study house at Paris is to be visited each year by a special visitor, sent by the general minister. If he finds anyone there to be contumacious, he may, with the consent of the provincial minister [of France], send him back to his own province.⁴⁰

This mention echoes, or rather portends, Francis’s words, as reported later by Angelo Clareno, about the teaching at Paris:

Moreover, brothers came from France and spoke to Francis, saying how in those days at Paris the brothers had received a celebrated man, a master of sacred theology, who had greatly edified both the people and the clergy. When Francis heard this, he sighed and answered: I fear, lest such masters finally destroy my movement. For the genuine teachers are those who demonstrate their way of life to their neighbors by good works, with the mildness of wisdom. A man has only as much knowledge as he uses and is only as wise as he loves God and neighbor; and the religious is only a good orator in so as far he faithfully and humbly performs the good things which he knows.⁴¹

Despite the evidently diverse approaches to addressing them, preservation of the brothers’ humility and mission were the central issues for both men, rather than any objection to learning in and of itself, and Bonaventure was willing to impose additional strictures on the latter to preserve and encourage the former.⁴²

Bonaventure demonstrated his acceptance and endorsement of Francis’s emphasis on humility by deed and word when discussing university education and positions, very public and influential ministries.⁴³ The Order’s preaching role was critical to Bonaventure but even more important to him was that the preachers’ lives be first right, that they exhibit sanctity of merit…, truth of faith…, and authority of office…, a perspective which resonates with Francis’s belief that a preacher’s life was a far more important witness than his words.⁴⁴ Bonaventure eloquently describes these interrelationships when explaining the ways in which human teachers and preachers should resemble Christ:

And these three things are necessary to whoever is teaching and preaching, namely regulating knowledge, eloquent expression, and a life that confirms them both. For to teach or preach without regulating knowledge is dangerous, without eloquent expression is unproductive, and without a life that confirms them both is disgraceful.⁴⁵

Again, Bonaventure attempts to accomplish a common mission with Francis, with thinking grounded in a shared conception of humility. Institutionalization and increased size may have introduced new temptations to, and dangers for, communal and individual humility, but the way in which Bonaventure gathered, confirmed, and constructed the Constitutions of Narbonne and otherwise guided the Order, indicates that he, as the Order’s leader, would not countenance their eventual victory and took active steps to keep them at bay.⁴⁶

CONCLUSION

Before concluding, two qualifications must be acknowledged. Firstly, a leader’s word does not necessarily reflect institutional behaviour. A complete consideration of the two, the theory and the practice, even solely in relation to learning and education, would be a much longer article. Secondly, Bonaventure did not, of course, directly succeed Francis. More than thirty years separated their periods of leadership, during which time momentous events and alterations occurred in the Order, and the Order’s customs and norms were developing into what would become the Constitutions of Narbonne.⁴⁷ This maturation process has similarly not been considered in detail for this article’s analysis. Instead, the aim has been to evaluate the underlying conception of humility at play in Bonaventure’s administration.

Taking these qualifications into consideration, three key provisional findings are elucidated, based on the case study of learning and education. Firstly, even such issues, about which Francis and Bonaventure are traditionally perceived to differ, illustrate their unexpected simpatico about humility, its theoretical importance and practice. Therefore, and secondly, Francis’s humility, characterized by subjection, self-sacrifice, inversion, and freedom from worldly constraints, seems to have been an underlying priority through a period of great change and growth for the First Order. The undoubtedly significant modifications in the Order observed by comparing the period of Francis’s leadership with Bonaventure’s leadership are unlikely to have occurred because Bonaventure undervalued or failed to encourage Francis’s conception of humility. Despite differing circumstances and perhaps surprisingly rare direct reference to Francis’s writings, Bonaventure evidently endeavoured to ensure that Francis’s humility was firmly embedded in Franciscan culture in the 1250s and beyond.⁴⁸ Finally, and consequently, apparent policy differences between the two men are more likely due to Bonaventure’s distinctive placement of Francis and the Franciscans within the history of Christianity and the Church, and his subsequent interpretation of the Order’s character and mission, rather than any rejection of Francis’s conception of humility. The analysis and argument presented in this article represents only a small segment of a wider project to identify the characteristics of Francis’s conception of humility and track its integration, or adaptation, into the early Franciscan Order. However, the case study of learning and education suggests that if Bonaventure did not totally align his leadership with Francis’s conception of humility, neither did he reject it. Rather, just as Bonaventure perceived preceding fathers and doctors as agents for building up and refining Christ’s Church, so he envisaged it as his responsibility to propel the Franciscan Order forward by enhancing, enriching, and reinforcing its humility, as the root of all perfection.⁴⁹

_______________

¹ John R.H. Moorman, The Sources for the Life of S. Francis of Assisi (Manchester, 1940), 140-148; Michael Robson, The Franciscans in the Middle Ages (Wood-bridge, 2006), 82-94; André Vauchez, Francis of Assisi – The Life and Afterlife of a Medieval Saint , trans. Michael F. Cusato (New Haven, 2012), 198-201.

² ER , 5-7, 9, 11, 14, 16-17, 20, 22 in FAED 1, 67-81; Adm , 2-6, 12-15, 17-20, 22-27 in FAED 1, 129-137.

³ Apol paup , 3.10 (8, 246-247), Defense of the Mendicants , 76-77; Apol paup , 11.15 (8, 315), Defense of the Mendicants , 318; Ilia Delio, The Humility of God - A Franciscan Perspective (Cincinnati, 2005), 5, 110-111, 151-152; William R. Cook, Francis of Assisi – The Way of Poverty and Humility (Preston, 1989), 75, 105-107, 112-114; Etienne Gilson, The Philosophy of St. Bonaventure , trans. Dom Illtyd Trethowan and Frank J. Steed (Paterson, 1965), 60-66; Robson, The Franciscans in the Middle Ages , 89-94.

⁴ A distinction must be made between Francis’s and Bonaventure’s respective theological positions about the role of the intellect in