Personas of the imagination 3 – cheerfulness, graciousness and humility — Father Francis

Father Francis eventually succeeded Father Chad as the prior of the abbey — but not until nearly the end of the seventh book in the series, The Breath of Peace.

It was William's idea to ask Francis in the first place: this is the conversation he had with Abbot John:

‘I just don’t know whom to ask.  I must say we do seem to be hard up for leadership material.’

William listened to him thoughtfully. ‘Leadership?’ he said.  ‘There are few natural leaders among men, and those there are can be a confounded nuisance in a community, if you don’t manage to direct their gifts and graces along the right channels.  Men grow into leadership.  It’s only a matter of confidence and familiarity with the job.  Well – provided you pick the right man in the first place, of course.  You have nobody in mind?’

‘Er . . . no.  That is – Germanus was doing nothing in particular, until I sent him to run the school with Brother Josephus.  They seem to be making quite a success of it, but . . . the prior . . . no; short answer is I don’t know.’

‘Oh.  Well, if I were you I would ask Father Francis.’  

 Surprised and intrigued, John turned this proposition over in his mind. ‘Francis . . . I would never have thought . . . why Francis?’ he said.

‘The mere fact that he’s so thoroughly able but everyone overlooks him is a good start,’ his friend replied.  ‘In a prior you need a man content with second place; someone personable, and capable of making a decision without panicking, but who doesn’t mind being in the background – and you won’t find that combination often.  He’s charming, he’s unfailingly sweet-natured, he upsets nobody – all in addition to being a perceptive, intelligent man who can stand his own ground when the need arises. I’ve noticed he doesn’t always flow with the current or speak with the popular voice.   Besides, he’s an excellent foil to Brother Cormac who is not charming or unfailingly sweet-natured and who manages to upset everybody.  With Francis on your right and Cormac at your left you couldn’t lose.  Francis can disarm your enemies while Cormac watches your back.’

This is how things went when Abbot John invited Francis to take up the obedience of prior:

‘Brother, I have something to ask of you.’

He paused.  He supposed he should call Francis ‘Father’ really.  There was something innately informal and fraternal about Francis that made the suggestion of gravitas in the word ‘Father’ seem inherently unlikely.  He hoped he was about to do the right thing.  Francis looked not at him but into the embers of the fire, waiting with thoughtful attention for his abbot’s request.

John drew breath.  Was he going to do this? It would be a grave thing, to topple his prior from his seat of privilege and power.  Replacing him with someone like Francis might raise some eyebrows.  William de Bulmer, I sincerely hope you’re right, John murmured in his soul.  Francis felt his hesitation, and glanced up at him, curious.

An abbot’s prior works very closely with him.  If Francis were to fill this obedience, John would make him his confessor as well, and no serious decisions would be made without consulting him.  This was part of the problem with Father Chad.  The respect and strength implied in the relationship was, John had to admit, simply lacking. Apart from his esquire, placed to see his weaknesses and vulnerability more clearly than anyone, the abbot’s prior came most nearly privy to his heart.  John thought he might as well therefore take him into his confidence starting now.

‘Father Chad is a good man but a weak prior’ he went straight to the point. ‘He is prayerful and kindly, but he is not decisive, and authority sits ill on his shoulders.  He has served well and faithfully in his obedience, but I think a change would bless him and bless the community.  I have not yet spoken with him about this.  Before I do, I wanted to ask you, Father Francis; are you willing to accept the obedience of prior in this community?’

Francis looked up at him in sheer, naked astonishment; and after one stunned moment of disbelief he began to laugh.

‘Prior?’ he said. ‘Me?  You cannot be serious!’  And John knew then, looking at Francis’s flabbergasted, stupefied, shocked face, that he had asked the right man.   Not a trace could he discern of ambition, or self-congratulation, or elation.  Francis was simply dumbfounded.

‘Well, I am,’ John answered him.

‘But . . . look . . . you know me.  I’m a complete nitwit, always have been.  I talk too much, I laugh too much, I clown around – still, even still.  I’m just a lightweight, I – John, I’m nothing!  And I’m sorry, that was disrespectful to call you just “John”.  You see what I mean?  I’d be useless!  Oh, for goodness sake, ask somebody else!’

John nodded thoughtfully.  ‘Who?’

‘Well . . . er . . . I don’t know.  What about – er – what about . . . er . . .’ Francis saw the problem his abbot faced.  ‘There isn’t really anybody, is there?  To be candid with you, I don’t think there’s really anybody even if you include me. Why . . . whatever made you think I could . . . ?’ He shook his head, amazed.

‘I didn’t want this matter leaking out through the community,’ said his abbot.  ‘So I took counsel with William de Bulmer.’

‘William?  William de Bulmer thought I would make a good prior?  He must be off his head! Truly, Father, I’m just a birdbrain – I’d let you down, I’d be incompetent.’

‘Have you finished? Is that your only objection?’

‘Um . . . yes – well, isn’t that enough?’

‘Will you do it?  I need your help, my brother.  Will you accept this obedience?’

And John saw the incredulity fade from Francis’s face, and sober consideration replace it.  ‘What about Father Chad?  He will be hurt, surely? He will feel humiliated.’

John drew breath in a sigh. ‘I will do my utmost to protect him from that.  I will couch it in the best terms I know how to do.  But yes, he may indeed feel debased.  I will do what I can.’

‘What is . . . can you explain to me what would be required of me?  There isn’t much about it in the Rule, is there?  Unless I haven’t been paying attention.  I mean, I know what being a prior looks like from the outside, but – well, to me it just looks like Father Chad.  I can’t distinguish between the vocation and the man.  If you were away, I know the prior would have to stand in for you, but what about when you’re here?’

‘You would help me with ministering all the temporal matters – help me in making decisions, in receiving guests, in writing letters and overseeing all the different areas of service in our common life.  And as you rightly said, if I were away or fell ill, you would act in my stead.  Unless that happened, the work is not onerous, because the responsibility rests with me.’

‘But if, God forbid, it did happen – if you fell sick as Father Peregrine did – have I the stature and judgment to hold everything together?’

‘Well, and if you have not, at least you don’t annoy everybody.  Don’t underestimate yourself, Father Francis – and don’t underestimate the grace of God to allow you to rise to your calling.  Now; enough of this shilly-shallying – will you do it?’

Francis took a deep breath.  ‘For you and in service of Christ, yes I will,’ he answered his abbot: ‘if you will promise to be patient with me, Father, and if you will guide me.’

He spoke with such unpretentious humility and looked John in the eye with such sincerity that for a moment John felt incapable of framing any kind of reply; he just thought how blessed he was to have his life shaped by a community in which the gospel had forged the lives of men on Christ’s own anvil.

And Francis turned out to be a good prior. In the very last book of the series, A Day and a Life, Abbot John considers the wisdom of the choice:

Surprisingly often, Abbot John has cause to reflect on how excellent an appointment is Father Francis as prior. Why didn’t I see it myself? He often asks himself, Why did it take William to notice that Francis would be the man?  

For in any Rule of any religious order you care to dip into, every detail of the character needed to make a good prior reads like a description of Father Francis. Patient and courteous and diligent? Why, yes he is. Kind and friendly, a peacemaker? Yes, that’s Francis. Adaptable, sociable, humble, intelligent, gentle? All of that. Ready with his smile, tactful, pleasant, a good example as a Christian man? Indeed, he is. He can even speak French and is as much at ease with the aristocracy as with the common man. At first when you read the outline of what’s expected in a prior, you begin to laugh and think good luck with that – were you looking for an angel? And then when you read through a second time, you can’t help but notice: wait – but that’s our Francis. That is what he’s like.

In the same book, Tom has these thoughts about Francis:

Tom reflects with interest on the ready smile and irrepressible wit that were forever getting Francis into trouble – too jaunty, too blithe, too chatty and too charming by half – right up to the point he was made prior. And suddenly, overnight, he began to look like a Godsend – so cheerful, so hospitable, so relaxed in conversation, so likeable. Find the right work for the right man, and suddenly it all makes sense.

Francis has his struggles and sensitivities like anybody, and these are explored here and there in the course of this fiction series — he's not a shallow man, and like all of us he has a back story.

But in the repertoire of my imagination, Father Francis is a very useful reference point, because of his cheerfulness and graciousness — and his humility. It blesses any community, any family, to have someone with a ready smile and a sanguine spirit, a person you can rely on to be cheerful and polite.

In our family, our household, that person is not me; but I'm glad I can hold Francis in view from time to time; he re-aligns my feet in the path of the Gospel.

Actually, cheerfulness, graciousness and humility aren't virtues that get you noticed. They're often taken for granted — as they were in the case of Father Francis — and people don't always recognise how valuable and how costly are such attributes.