There are many stories and sayings ascribed to St. Francis of Assisi that do not appear in his own writings—popular adages like; “Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary, use words.” Francis’ betrothal to Lady Poverty in the Sacred Exchange is one of these famous legends. Although we have no evidence of Lady Poverty from Francis’ own writings, we know that it became part of his legacy early on, as seen in this 14th century fresco; so, there’s reason to hope that it originates from him! Whether or not the legend is authentic, we can all appreciate how compelling the imagery is. Poverty is not an appealing virtue in comparison to some of the others. Augustine’s Lady Chastity and Boethius’ Lady Philosophy have a certain gracefulness about them, but not Lady Poverty. Just visit a local homeless shelter, and Poverty’s unattractive features will be evident. Yet Francis somehow manages to paint Poverty as the most attractive among the virtues.
The Sacred Exchange begins with a quest. At the words of Christ’s sermon on the mount, “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of God,” Francis sets off on a journey to find and embrace Poverty. He says, “Tell me, I beg you, where does Lady Poverty dwell? Where does she eat? Where does she rest at noon, for I languish with love of her?” Francis’ unique twist on the tradition of personification is the theme of courtly love. Lady Poverty is hidden in a faraway place and can only be won by an arduous journey. Like a knight who endures all for love of a princess, Francis welcomes any challenge in his pursuit of Lady Poverty, whom he praises as “the queen of virtues.” However, this queen has neither crown nor paige, for Dante remarks how no one paid homage to Poverty until Francis came along. By falling madly in love with a woman who is shunned by all, Francis casts himself as a Holy Fool. We as readers are confronted with the question of who the mad one is; Francis or everyone else? Like the tale of Don Quixote, Francis’ love for Poverty causes us to question our values and rethink our social norms.
Taking with him a band of brothers, Francis prepares to ascend the summit where Poverty dwells. But first they must strip themselves naked from the clothes of rejoicing and weights of sin. In so doing they free themselves to climb the mountain swiftly, impressing Lady Poverty who watches them from on high. There they find her “resting on a throne in her nakedness, welcome[ing] them with blessings of sweetness.” Unlike Boethius’ Lady Philosophy who is beautifully adorned, Lady Poverty is naked! Clothing and nakedness are recurring themes in the life of St. Francis to symbolize detachment from worldly goods and freedom in Christ. During Francis’ own conversion, he famously strips himself naked, forsaking his father’s wealthy garment business and choosing to live exclusively for Christ. Moreover, Lady Poverty explains how she once accompanied Adam in the garden of Eden until he rebelled, becoming clothed with “a garment of skin, signifying with it his mortality.” Thus, nakedness is symbolic of returning to the innocence of Eden. However, a hint of irony is intended to be appreciated since Poverty, though she be a Lady, is portrayed naked and unadorned with jewels.
The irony continues when Francis and his brothers pledge themselves to her, escorting her down to their oratory where they have prepared a feast. This banquet is composed of three to four barley loaves laid out for her on the grass—the kind of picnic Poverty used to enjoy with Adam in paradise. When Lady Poverty asks for a knife to cut the bread, the friars respond, “Lady, we don’t have a blacksmith to make us swords. For now use your teeth in place of a knife.” Afterward Lady Poverty asks for a pillow, wanting to rest. So, the friars bring “a stone and place(d) it under her head.” Instead of admonishing them for their indecorous behavior, Lady Poverty blesses the friars.
Francis and his followers successfully win Lady Poverty’s approval and thus receive the blessing of Christ; for Lady Poverty was Christ’s lifelong companion. From His Bethlehem crèche to His cross on Calvary, Lady Poverty accompanied Jesus throughout His earthly life. Bonaventure says, “when the evil Herod sought to kill the tiny King, he was taken into Egypt as a pilgrim and pauper” (or, in today’s parlance, one might say an “immigrant” and “homeless person”). Bonaventure goes on to explain how Jesus composed an ode to Poverty when he preached, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests but the Son of God has nowhere to lay his head.” The point is that in gaining Lady Poverty, Francis and his brothers receive Christ Himself.
What Francis is able to accomplish through personification is making virtue appealing to the will, and he does this by creating an imaginary relationship. Instead of approaching virtue as a Platonic form that exists up in the ether, or an Aristotelian disposition that falls somewhere between two vicious extremes, Francis makes virtue relatable by imagining it as a person. The practice of personification has a long history in Judeo-Christianity. Proverbs offers a biblical model of personification with Lady Wisdom, who inspired early Christian thinkers to personify other virtues they wished to imbibe. Augustine’s conversion and Boethius’ consolation are mediated through their personifications of Chastity and Philosophy. By personifying Poverty, Francis follows in a longstanding tradition that proved highly efficacious for Christians before him.
Personification is similar to the approach of moral exemplarism. Moral exemplarism seeks to cultivate virtue through imitating the examples of virtuous people. However, there are a couple problems with moral exemplarism. First, what do we do in situations where there are no moral exemplars to follow? Take for example, Boethius sitting alone in his prison cell. Second, how is the moral exemplar expected to grow and persevere in virtue if there is no one more virtuous for her to imitate? What personification adds to moral exemplarism is the activation of imagination in the pursuit of virtue. This can be helpful especially when we do not have access to any moral exemplars, and for the moral exemplar looking for someone else to imitate. Unlike moral exemplarism, which depends on available relationships, personification makes relationship always possible by imagining them.
Some may object that the idea of imaginary exemplars is silly or sentimental—like the childish behavior of having an imaginary friend. That children are naturally disposed to the practice of personification I do not deny, but that personification is silly or sentimental is an objection I leave for Francis, Boethius, Augustine, and Proverbs to handle. I simply wish to highlight the power relationship—even imaginary relationship—holds for cultivating virtue. Furthermore, if God is the source of all virtue, then every imaginary relationship with a personified virtue ultimately finds its end in God, who is not imaginary. Rather, it is we who are imagined by Him, and though we are merely figments of God’s imagination, He nonetheless invites us into real and authentic relationships.
Suggestions for further reading
Thompson, Augustine, Francis of Assisi: A New Biography (New York: Cornell University Press, 2012).
Bonaventure, Bonaventure: The Life of St. Francis, trans. Ewert Cousins (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1978).
About the author
Originally published by at eitw.nd.edu on March 10, 2025.