Read Online Saint Francis by Nikos Kazantzakis - Free Book Online
Authors: Nikos Kazantzakis
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suddenly discovered the great secret. The body does not exist! Yes, Brother Leo, there is no such thing as the body; nothing exists but the soul!"
He sprang up in bed, his face resplendent.
"And if nothing exists but the soul," he shouted happily, "if nothing exists but the soul, just think, Brother Leo, how far we can go! When the body is no longer here to hinder us, with one leap we shall be in heaven!"
I kept silent. My mind did not understand his words very well, but my heart understood them all. He continued:
"And I took this leap in my dreams--look, like this!" He thrust his arms vigorously up toward the sky as though they were wings. "When you dream, there is nothing simpler, nothing easier. But I shall also do it--you will see; yes, I've made the decision; inside me my mother's blood is crying out --I shall also do it now that I am awake. It will be difficult, very difficult. Brother Leo, I need your help!"
"I want to help you, Brother Francis, and I would with pleasure--but how? My schooling isn't worth mentioning, and my brain isn't very extensive either. The only thing I have is my heart, but what can you do with that? Poor thing, it's unhinged by nature, and proud as a cock, too, miserable beggar that it is! Better not place your trust in it. . . . So you see, how can I help you?"
"You can, you can--and quickly too. Listen: tomorrow I'll be able to get up. I want you to take my arm and support me so I don't fall. We're going to San Damiano's."
"San Damiano's!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "You know, today is Damiano's feast. Didn't you hear the bells?"
"Today!" exclaimed Francis, clapping his hands. "Then that's why . . ."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a dream; I saw him in my dream. Last night he came to me in my sleep. He was ragged, barefooted, leaning on crutches, weeping. I grew frightened and ran to help support him. 'Do not weep, Saint of God,' I said, kissing his hands. 'What has happened to you? You're in heaven, aren't you? Does this mean there is weeping even there?' He nodded his head. 'Yes, there is weeping even in heaven,' he answered me, 'but it is for those who are still crawling on earth. I saw you stretched out peacefully on your rich featherbed and felt sorry for you. Why do you sleep, Francis! Shame on you! The Church is in danger.'
" 'The Church in danger? But what can I do? What do you expect me to do?'
" 'Reach out your hands; place your shoulder against it. Do not let it fall!'
" 'I? I, Bernardone's son?'
" 'You, Francis of Assisi. The world is crumbling to ruins; Christ is in danger. Rise up, support the world on your back so that it does not fall. The Church has descended to the state of my little chapel: it is a tottering ruin. Build it up!'
"He grasped my shoulder and gave me a strong push. I awoke, terrified."
Francis bared his back.
"Look," he said. "You should still be able to see his fingermarks on my shoulder. Come close."
I went up to him, but immediately stepped back in terror and made the sign of the cross.
"Angels of God, defend us!" I murmured, trembling. On Francis' shoulder I could clearly discern several black and blue marks like fingerprints.
"They are Saint Damiano's fingers," said Francis. "Don't be afraid."
Then, a moment later: "Do you understand now why we are going to his church? It is ready to crumble. The two of us, Brother Leo, shall build it up with stones and cement; and we shall fill the extinguished sanctuary lamp with oil so that the saint's face may be illuminated once more."
"Was that all he wanted, Francis, all he instructed you to do? Or could it be that--"
"No, no, that was all!" said Francis, placing his hand over my mouth as though terrified I might go further. "Quiet! Let's begin with that."
I kept quiet, but my heart was throbbing. I sensed that this dream had been sent by God, that it contained a terrible hidden message. I knew that when the Almighty seizes a man He no longer has any mercy, but tosses the
He sprang up in bed, his face resplendent.
"And if nothing exists but the soul," he shouted happily, "if nothing exists but the soul, just think, Brother Leo, how far we can go! When the body is no longer here to hinder us, with one leap we shall be in heaven!"
I kept silent. My mind did not understand his words very well, but my heart understood them all. He continued:
"And I took this leap in my dreams--look, like this!" He thrust his arms vigorously up toward the sky as though they were wings. "When you dream, there is nothing simpler, nothing easier. But I shall also do it--you will see; yes, I've made the decision; inside me my mother's blood is crying out --I shall also do it now that I am awake. It will be difficult, very difficult. Brother Leo, I need your help!"
"I want to help you, Brother Francis, and I would with pleasure--but how? My schooling isn't worth mentioning, and my brain isn't very extensive either. The only thing I have is my heart, but what can you do with that? Poor thing, it's unhinged by nature, and proud as a cock, too, miserable beggar that it is! Better not place your trust in it. . . . So you see, how can I help you?"
"You can, you can--and quickly too. Listen: tomorrow I'll be able to get up. I want you to take my arm and support me so I don't fall. We're going to San Damiano's."
"San Damiano's!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "You know, today is Damiano's feast. Didn't you hear the bells?"
"Today!" exclaimed Francis, clapping his hands. "Then that's why . . ."
"What do you mean?"
"I had a dream; I saw him in my dream. Last night he came to me in my sleep. He was ragged, barefooted, leaning on crutches, weeping. I grew frightened and ran to help support him. 'Do not weep, Saint of God,' I said, kissing his hands. 'What has happened to you? You're in heaven, aren't you? Does this mean there is weeping even there?' He nodded his head. 'Yes, there is weeping even in heaven,' he answered me, 'but it is for those who are still crawling on earth. I saw you stretched out peacefully on your rich featherbed and felt sorry for you. Why do you sleep, Francis! Shame on you! The Church is in danger.'
" 'The Church in danger? But what can I do? What do you expect me to do?'
" 'Reach out your hands; place your shoulder against it. Do not let it fall!'
" 'I? I, Bernardone's son?'
" 'You, Francis of Assisi. The world is crumbling to ruins; Christ is in danger. Rise up, support the world on your back so that it does not fall. The Church has descended to the state of my little chapel: it is a tottering ruin. Build it up!'
"He grasped my shoulder and gave me a strong push. I awoke, terrified."
Francis bared his back.
"Look," he said. "You should still be able to see his fingermarks on my shoulder. Come close."
I went up to him, but immediately stepped back in terror and made the sign of the cross.
"Angels of God, defend us!" I murmured, trembling. On Francis' shoulder I could clearly discern several black and blue marks like fingerprints.
"They are Saint Damiano's fingers," said Francis. "Don't be afraid."
Then, a moment later: "Do you understand now why we are going to his church? It is ready to crumble. The two of us, Brother Leo, shall build it up with stones and cement; and we shall fill the extinguished sanctuary lamp with oil so that the saint's face may be illuminated once more."
"Was that all he wanted, Francis, all he instructed you to do? Or could it be that--"
"No, no, that was all!" said Francis, placing his hand over my mouth as though terrified I might go further. "Quiet! Let's begin with that."
I kept quiet, but my heart was throbbing. I sensed that this dream had been sent by God, that it contained a terrible hidden message. I knew that when the Almighty seizes a man He no longer has any mercy, but tosses the
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