Feast Day: April 28th
Luchesio Modestini was far from living up to his surname.
He grew up in the lovely and abundant region of Tuscany, in Italy (so, around the time, and not far from St. Francis). He had begun life, not unlike the poverello of Assisi, with dreams of being a soldier but had discovered the wealth and privilege that came from outfitting pilgrims on their way to Rome and had thus turned his dreams towards the life of a merchant and moneylender. His name meant “modest”, but he quickly outstripped that adjective, growing prosperous from his sales, marrying a woman we only know as “Buonadonna” [literally “lovely-woman”], and gaining a reputation as unfeeling and greedy.
But around the age of 30 God’s grace broke into his comfortable life.
We don’t know exactly what happened. Did he encounter the newly converted St. Francis (they had known each other before both being merchants)? Did the pilgrims he was fleecing finally show him a joy that he didn’t find in money? Did a fellow merchant question why he was so fixated on wealth and success? We just know that he had the grace to realize the foolishness of striving merely for worldly goods, none of which would matter much in just a few more decades. He discovered that he had a soul. He discovered that eternal joy was more important that the passing delights he had given much of his early life to stockpiling.
Now, it is always interesting to see how conversions actually play out because often the Lord’s converting our hearts does not happen instantaneously, and so was the case with Luchesio. He began simply, but concretely, but practicing the works of mercy – feeding the poor, going out of his way to help the sick or lonely, learning to love people again. And, alongside of this he resumed the life of a faithful Catholic – going to Mass, repenting of his sins, praying each day. It would not have seemed much to a time when most people lived that kind of life, but for Luchesio these were the small steps that allowed the tremendous gift of God’s joy and freedom to break back into his life.
Buonadonna discovered a different, much better, person in her husband as he began this journey. Her own heart was moved away from the comforts and avarice that had been her highest goods to that point, and she discovered, like Luchesio, that what she really wanted – what really made her happy – was the life of a disciple, of generosity, piety, hope, and prayer. Together the couple decided to take a much more decisive step after the Lord: they gave away most of their property, retaining only enough land to provide for their daily needs, and leaving their hearts open to whatever God asked of them next.
Many people in that region were being moved at this time by the example and words of St. Francis, though his only formal followers were the brothers who were forming the fledgling Order of Friars Minor (the First Order Franciscans) and the nuns beginning to collect around St. Clare (Second Order Franciscans). But then Luchesio and Buonadonna hosted the saintly deacon at their home in Poggibonzi, moving him by their story of conversion and penitence, and asking him for instructions on how to continue forward as a couple seeking radical holiness.
St. Francis’s dream of developing a way of life for lay people to follow the call into simplicity and humility that God had given to him was inspired and concretized by this couple. Out of their friendship came what would become the Third Order of St. Francis, originally called simply the Order of Penance, but honed and expanded over the years to include not only lay people affiliated with the Franciscan Order but also the groups of active religious sisters who also live lives of poverty in the world, examples to all of us of Christ’s own freedom and utter dependency on God.
Now, it wasn’t as if this couple lived their life as the first Franciscan Tertiaries perfectly for the rest of their days. There were times when Luchesio’s radical generosity was inconsiderate of Buonadonna; though then again, when once she frustratingly exploded when he gave away the last of their food, he gently asked her to look in the pantry again only to find it filled with the best of bread. Would we would see similar miracles if we chose similar confidence in God? They took plague victims into their home, risking their health, and the ridicule of others because they really saw Jesus in each invalid.
Eventually Luchesio grew sick, and his distraught wife begged that she could die with him. “Implore God, who gave us to each other as companions in life, to permit us also to die together” she asked Luchesio. So they prayed, and so it happened. She died shortly before him, both having received the last sacraments before they passed.
– Fr. Dominic recently ran the Boston Marathon. He successfully discovered his own poverty at mile 24 when he found himself walking instead of setting a new (personal) record for the 26.2 mile race. Sometimes the Lord knows He needs to slow us down to a walk to help us discover what is really important in life, and maybe the path to radical holiness that you couldn’t see till then.