Have you ever listened to someone when they are angry and ranting? If you have never had such an experience, you’re either deaf or you live under a rock. Rants are part of the human condition. I would say that rants are part of human communication. They allow the listener a peek into the heart and soul of the other, the person who is ranting.
You see, when people rant, they are only partially in control. Very often the emotions move faster than the rules that govern social discourse; the result is that you reveal yourself in not so politically correct ways, but probably in the most humble way possible. Humility is the exercise of truth governed by trust. You trust that the person who sees and hears you as you truly are also loves you as you are, not as he or she imagines or desires you to be.
Having been at the receiving end of rants many times in my life, rants by family members, colleagues, superiors, and even brothers in my own community I have learned to appreciate them rather than build a wall between the frustrated ‘ranter’ and me.
OK, I confess. I just made up a word: ranter. Now get past your linguistic indignation and stay with me.
While I’m sitting there listening to my brother rant on about something, it can be the flavor of ice cream, I’m aware that rants don’t have to be rational. But while I’m apparently listening to the rant, the truth is that I’ve learned to close my ears off to the rant. I open my eyes to other things and listen to those instead. It has often been a humbling experience. Allow me to explain.
My brother is ranting because something is bothering him. Why else rant? This does not mean that his annoyance is justified. Sometimes our annoyance is either irrational or exaggerated. But that’s not important and this is where we go wrong. We begin to look for the rationality in the other person’s discourse and being unable to find it, we return rant with rant.
Ignore the steam and focus on the heart…
On the other hand, observing Jesus in the Gospels and St. Francis of Assisi in his dealings with the first generation Franciscans, I noticed that they look at the heart of the ranter and listen to his inner voice.
Christ, very often, tells the Pharisees that they are closed minded, hard-hearted, proud and ignorant. But he never tells them that they are irrational, exaggerating, rude, or obnoxious. That’s not to say that they were not. It just means that Christ finds the truth about a man in his heart, not in his emotional outbursts. When he looked into the hearts of some of the Pharisees, he saw some serious character flaws.
At the same time, when he looked into the heart of some other ranters and whiners, he saw an innocence, ignorance, or uncertainty that kept him coming back to them and inspired him to call his apostles, “Friends”.
I noticed the same behavior in our holy father St. Francis when dealing with the early brothers. While one group ranted about the rule being too impractical and another group ranted about the first group being too liberal, Francis never returned a rant with a rant. He never lost his cool. He never told them to go away. He politely listened and said what he felt needed to be said and went on his way.
Through the years I’ve contemplated how Jesus and Francis responded to rants. I’ve integrated these observations along my parents’ style of communication; I’ve come to the conclusion that a rant can be like heart surgery . . . usually a great discomfort, but lifesaving.
Recently, one of my brothers was ranting at me (the reason is irrelevant and no, I did not kill the cat…). As he went on and on, I heard what he was not saying. He was hurt by something. I had failed to respond in the manner that he felt I should. Therefore, he was hurt by my behavior, because I came across as indifferent to something important to him. While we all claim that we are not concerned with what the world thinks, we all know this is not true. We care very much, especially those people with him we share the world the closest. As I thought of this, I realized that had it been someone else who ignored that which was important to the brother, it may have annoyed him or even made him angry, but it would not have hurt. What I was listening to was not a rant. The rant is the noise made by pain.
Before we go on to think that we must yield to everyone who rants, out of pity for their pain, let’s clarify something. Some people are in pain because their expectations are unreasonable or even irrational. Others are in pain because they never bothered to share their expectations, concerns, fears and loves with the other person. Suddenly, something goes wrong and they explode, leaving the other person feeling confused or even angry in return.
The point is that when someone rants at you, try to see his heart and listen to his pain. Then you can decide for yourself whether he is being reasonable or not.
In my particular case, during my last encounter with a rant, what I saw was a wounded heart, because I had failed to do something that would have validated my brother. As he ranted, I examined my conscience and realized that I had failed in spiritual friendship. I know this mean intimately. I should have responded to a sensibility of which I am well aware. I also heard, “I love you,” under his rant. “If I didn’t love you, I could care less how you respond to my feelings.” To me, there is nothing more humbling than being loved.
The next time that someone rants at you, try to SEE what’s in the heart and HEAR the emotion communicated by the soul. You may find that the person ranting at you is your best friend, not a pesky fly.
Br. Jay
hy man choose celibacy and chastity over a woman?” Another popular question, “How can you live without a woman?”
can love another person and be intimate. However, when he experiences the love of God, he is filled with peace, interior silence, joy, and courage that he has never experienced. His life is different and he wants more. He cannot turn back to the love and intimacy of human romance, not because human romance is bad, but because he has found something even better than good. He has found Him who is the perfect lover: God.
How does he know this? He no longer question himself or his relationship. He is truly loved by God and he freely returns that love. He no longer wonders whether his beloved will change his mind. His relationship is no longer about liking what he feels or what the other feels for him.
These are our sleeping quarters, also called cells. No brother owns anything, not even a room of his own. A large room is divided by curtains, as you would see in a hospital. Behind each curtain there are two beds for two brothers, bunks. There is an aisle along the length of the bed that is 18 inches wide and another curtain, behind which there is another cell with two more beds the same size. The brothers always remember Jesus’ words, “The Son of Man has no place to lay his head.”
Every brother is assigned a flat sheet and a single blanket. We use only what we need, not what we like. We don’t use comforters or fancy bedspreads. The money that can be spent on those items can just as easily be put into our apostolate among the voiceless, even if it’s just paying for gas to get from point A to point B. After a few days, one becomes so accustomed to this arrangement, that we no longer miss our old bedroom in our former home. The community house becomes home and the cells become our bedrooms; but they are more than that. It is here that we experience the intimacy and poverty of the fraternal life that St. Francis so loved. Like Christ and his Apostles and like Francis and the early brothers who shared huts, the brothers practice charity and detachment.
In the sleeping area there is always a small oratory. An oratory is not a chapel. The Blessed Sacrament is not reserved there. Oratory comes from the Latin word oratio, meaning to speak and to pray. Oremus,”Let us pray. Let us speak with God.” The brothers last conversation before retiring is with Jesus and His Immaculate Mother. His first conversation of the day is also with the beloved Mother and Son. During the day, the brother sneaks into the oratory, like a lover sneaking along the hedges to have a quiet words with his sweetheart. Christ and the Immaculate are our sweethearts.
We don’t have closets, since we don’t have many clothes. We share a row of hooks where we hang up our formal and work habits. We also have a pair of grey pants and a grey banded shirt. Here you see a typical work habit for a postulant. Novices and professed brothers wear it with a cord or without a cord, depending on the task at hand. The work habit it short. It does not reach the knees. It’s our version of grunge clothing. Nothing is ever wasted. Our Constitution reminds us that like St. Francis, we follow the poor and suffering Christ who walked to Calvary in shredded clothes, except for his sacred seamless tunic. When a garment is too damaged to wear, it is cut up and used to patch up other work habits. It is not unusual to see our brothers wearing patches on their work habits or displaying grease stains from an engine. These stains are tough to wash out. But we manage.
We don’t have cooks or housekeepers. Those are chores that we do ourselves. The brothers take turns cooking, scrubbing and cleaning. Those brothers who have never done it before or don’t know how are taught by more experienced brothers. 
St. Francis said that we are to be “minors”. During the Italian Middle Ages there was a social class known as the Minores. It seems that these men and women were of the lower class of serfs and peasants. Even among the peasants, there was social stratification. Christ reminds us that we have been sent to serve, not to be served. “Go out and do what I have done for you.”
We even have two pups. The black and brown handsome fellow is Max, named after St. Maximilian Kolbe. 
The little fawn cutie is Tasha, named after a character on Star Trek Generations. Yes, we have former Trekkies among us. The brothers may not watch television. Start Trek is out of the question. Besides, who has time.
Brother Bernardo’s from his days at university, other friends from the area and his mother, Mrs. Angela Torres. The group was small. The ceremony was simple, dignified, reverent and above all, prayerful.
e Incarnation and the Virgin Birth set into motion the journey to Calvary and our redemption.
3.
Franciscans of Life 
