My Dear Friends,
This week I will journey to Assisi, the home of Saint Francis, with my oldest and dearest friend, Liam. In the company of friendship, I am reminded of how Francis lived: he saw every relationship as a window into God’s love and every person—no matter how different—as a brother or sister.
Our nation, as you know, feels so torn apart by hatred, racism, division, and fear. Even recent events—like the Charlie Kirk fiasco—remind us of how far we can stray when we see one another not as beloved children of God, but as enemies.
Francis offers us another way. He did not build walls; he crossed them. He met with lepers, with the poor, even with the Sultan—risking misunderstanding to sow seeds of peace. He knew that peace begins not with anger or noise, but with silence before God. It was in silence, in prayer, that Francis’ heart was softened and his anger disarmed.
As I walk through Assisi with Liam this week, I will carry each of you in prayer. At San Damiano, where Francis first heard Christ call him to rebuild the Church, I will pray for renewal in our nation’s heart—that we might rediscover compassion over cruelty. At the Porziuncola, the “little portion” Francis called his heaven on earth, I will pray for all my loved ones, that you may know joy and mercy in your daily lives. At the Carceri hermitage, high in the hills where Francis prayed in solitude among the trees and birds, I will pray for the gift of silence—for myself, for you, and for all Christians in America—that in that silence, God’s peace might rise within us. And at the tomb of Francis, I will entrust to God every burden we carry, asking that, like Francis, we may find the courage to lay down our lives for love.
As I make this pilgrimage, I carry a prayer for our country: that we who call ourselves Christians might live more like Christ. That we might choose humility over arrogance, love over hate, mercy over violence. That our friendships—not our divisions—would define us.
May we dare, like Francis, to be instruments of peace in a time of noise. May we sow love where there is hatred, unity where there is division, and hope where there is despair. And may we each find the courage to pause in silence before God—so that what rises from us is not bitterness, but blessing.
Peace and Blessings,
Father Jerry
The literal “from your lips to God’s ear”