“Man Wounded by Love”: What St. Francis Teaches Us Through the Stigmata 800 Years Later
- Elizabeth Zelasko
- Oct 24
- 4 min read
The stigmata of St. Francis reminds the faithful that holiness is not about perfection, but about love so complete that it bears the marks of Christ.
We are truly rich in the lives of the saints, yet I would argue that few can rival Francis of Assisi. Called by Christ from a life of comfort and privilege, he became a living witness of total surrender to God and selfless service to others. As he became ever more “Christ-like,” the veil of Heaven and earth was pierced in his life, and he became the first saint to be marked by the wounds of Christ’s passion. Francis received the stigmata — wounded hands, feet and side — while praying on Mount La Verna in Tuscany in 1224. In 2024, we marked the 800th anniversary of this great event. To commemorate this memorial, the late Pope Francis wrote a striking prayer:
St. Francis, man wounded by love, Crucified in body and in spirit, we look to you, decorated with the holy stigmata, to learn how to love the Lord Jesus, brothers and sisters in your love of his holy passion. With you, it is easier to contemplate and follow Christ, poor and Crucified. Give us, Francis, the freshness of your faith, the certainty of your hope, the gentleness of your charity. Intercede for us, so that it may be sweet for us to bear the burdens of life, and in trials we may experience the tenderness of the Father and the balm of the Spirit. May our wounds be healed by the Heart of Christ, so we may become, like you, witnesses of his mercy, which continues to heal and renew the life of those who seek him with a sincere heart. O Francis, made to resemble the Crucified One, let your stigmata be for us and for the world resplendent signs of life and resurrection, to show new ways of peace and reconciliation. Amen.
While addressing an audience of Franciscan friars on this anniversary, the late pope urged them “to be forgiven bearers of forgiveness, healed bearers of healing, joyful and simple in fraternity, all in the strength of love which flows from Christ's side and which is nourished in your personal encounter with him.” This message speaks to the heart of every Christian. And while it certainly wouldn’t hurt to be a Franciscan friar in the Tuscan hills, one doesn’t need to be to feel the beauty and encouragement of these words. This icon of St. Francis, painted around 1240, expresses this very same sentiment.
Although time has left a network of cracks across the surface, this icon remains strikingly vibrant, as if newly created. Kneeling on the rocky slopes of Mount La Verna, Francis lifts his gaze toward heaven as golden rays descend from a six-winged seraph bearing the Cross of Christ. Much like Gian Lorenzo Bernini’s Ecstasy of Saint Teresa (1647–1652), the image captures a soul enraptured by divine love. For Teresa, an angel pierces the heart with love’s wound; for Francis, the wounds of Christ are impressed upon his body.
Pope Francis’s phrase “man wounded by love” gives voice to this paradox. He explained to the friars that the stigmata are not symbols of pain endured but of love received. In other words, the Christian life aims at union with Christ — at being conformed to him in every way. The stigmata, then, might be understood as the Incarnate Christ conforming us more closely to himself, a grace given to draw St. Francis — and humanity — ever closer to the divine love. Though few are called to such radical participation, each of us is called to reflect Christ’s image to the world in our own particular way.
As a sacred artist and lifelong admirer of religious art, I’ve seen countless gold halos — but never one quite like this. In iconography, a gold background signifies the radiant light of the New Jerusalem, while a gold halo reveals the light of Christ shining through a particular soul. It has also been said that halos offer a glimpse into the light of Heaven itself — a kind of portal through which we are invited to glimpse the divine realm. In this icon of St Francis Receiving the Stigmata, we see this heavenly light penetrating through to Francis and filling his halo, literally showing us that the light and sanctity within could only be of heavenly origin. St. Paul reminds us of this truth: “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light” (Ephesians 5:8). Francis had been living a worldly life for himself, and when he turned to Christ, he was truly and fully illuminated.
Let us then ask St. Francis to pray for us. In the words of our late pope, “O Francis, made to resemble the Crucified One, let your stigmata be for us and for the world resplendent signs of life and resurrection, to show new ways of peace and reconciliation.”
Amen.
