It was one of those bleak late winter evenings when I first met Father Francis. He was Joseph Kline and was at Gethsemani seeking discernment of a monastic vocation. He sat in a corner of a poorly lighted room, too big for such an interview, and answered monosyllabically.

I had been novice master for four years. It was the early seventies. There had been candidate interviews with young men who were high on marijuana which of course I never noticed; there had been persons who talked for hours about their mystical experiences from LSD; there were candidates who wanted to share their writings which were inspired by Thomas Merton. These experiences made me a little wary of candidate interviews. Then too there was the reality that if the candidate enters, it is the novice master who will have to be with him in all the ups and downs of the beginnings of a spiritual journey. “Do I really want to do that again”, was the lens through which candidate interviews were focused?

Joseph Kline was very uncommunicative. It was Friday evening; he had to be back in Long Island to play the Sunday liturgies at the parish where he had been involved for most of his student years. I pulled and pushed trying to understand why Joe would want to come to monastic life. He mentioned the interviewer from the Christian Science Monitor after his performance of the complete organ works of J.S. Bach asking him, “What next?” The question had brought to light the unease he had been living. What next?

He had thought of a priestly vocation before; thought of the Jesuits who were responsible for training that keen intellect during high school; recently he had read one of the most uninspiring books about Thomas Merton’s monastic life, Ed Rice’s A Man in the Sycamore Tree. That had touched him and he wanted to surrender all to the Lord; yes, even, and in particular, his music! What novice master hasn’t heard such absolute surrender from an aspirant and heard it often enough to be a little cynical or rather realistic about the interpretation of what is being said.

With the two other monks who interviewed Joseph Kline we shared impressions, to piece together the life story. There wasn’t a strong sense that this is the way for such an exceptionally intelligent and talented person. Yet he was obviously being called to something; he needed to make some career choices; the discernment of a monastic vocation or not could clear his way forward. With that somewhat pragmatic decision, Joseph was informed that he was welcome to Gethsemani as a postulant.

When the candidate takes the monastic habit he also can change his name especially if someone in the Community has his name. At Gethsemani there was a Joseph, a Giuseppe and a José. The radicalism of the poor man of Assisi appealed to Joseph Kline and he asked for the name Francis to better follow his way of Gospel living.

The weekly meetings of Novice Master and Brother Francis were never simple. The call to radicalism was without boundaries. As with many new monks the renunciation of the delights of food is the first reality. Francis was unrelenting. But there is a battle that the body wisely wages back. Francis would succumb to “pigging-out” on occasion and would confess to the novice master with a contriteness to even out-do anything of his saintly mentor.

There was the renunciation – music. Various combinations were tried, the practical problem of finding practice time in a highly structured monastic schedule that regularly prayed in the Church where the instrument was; in a Community which at that time was blessed with a very accomplished musician. In addition there were two or three others who played and who did need practice. Brother Francis as Joseph Kline had practiced eight to ten to twelve hours a day! But it was not the confusion of schedules nor just time that he needed, Francis was sure that God wanted him to surrender his music totally. The novice master had doubts. The practical reality was this meant a monk to work and not work time to practice organ.

This went on for weeks but there were rumors of the organ being played in the middle of the night; there was novice Francis sleeping over his reading. In one of the weekly session the topic of midnight organ recitals was brought-up. It wasn’t easy to convince him – radicalness of his commitment; his life as a monk depended on leaving everything. We reflected together on communication and how we communicate with God, how we say in all truth who we are. For Francis obviously music was his way of communication. There was an agreement to respond to the Lord by music and we would discern it again.

To offer Brother Francis encouragement using his musical talent as a way to respond to the call of God, it was arranged that he study under the guidance of Father Chrysogonus Waddell a monk and priest of Gethsemani whose musical background was very similar to Francis’. They even knew some of the same persons since Father Chrysogonus had also studied at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia where Francis had been for a time. This began a very fruitful exchange between the two very talented and equally dedicated monks. It was Father Chrysogonus who introduced Francis to reading Patristic literature in the original language. He led Brother Francis through that enormous corpus of literature to deepen his response to his monastic vocation and love of Saint Augustine. It was from this opening to the Church Fathers provided by Father Chrysogonus that Brother Francis in his years at Sant’Anselmo in Rome would do ground breaking work on the influences of the monastic Evagrius on Origen. Francis’ heart really was in that world of scholarship.

But this relationship is also a dark point in Francis’ life. As so often is the situation the mentor and student did not grow apart in a simple manner. Something happened and with all the good will and Gospel dedication in each of their lives they never brought the relationship into the easy joy of colleagues.

Francis studied in Sant’Anselmo Benedictine Athenaeum in Rome primarily to be theologically trained to be available for priestly ordination. He loved studies and his work was acknowledged as superior. He loved Rome: the classical antiquity, the Baroque exuberance, the earthiness of Italian culture and their love of exquisite food and fine living. He was accepted into the household of Hugo and Valeria Tesoriere where his joy of Italian cuisine was nourished and his love of painting and the struggle for creative fulfillment were discussed and lived as Hugo labored to be a painter of recognition. Hugo’s artistic legacy is now housed at Mepkin Abbey.

Brother Francis returned to Gethsemani Abbey though making it clear that he would love the opportunity for further study. He was soon ordained priest and appointed novice master. His perception of people, the depths of his own emotional instincts, his love of the monastic way of living the Gospel all worked together to make him a very good novice master. As one of his novices said, “He was so human helping each person through the practical part of adjusting to a rather strange way of life; even down to constipation, homesickness, loneliness.” He respected the person and recognized their capabilities and would demand they live them.

This was true of his relations with all the Brothers, even the most unlettered was a friend to Father Francis and would seek him out when there was a need of counsel. Francis had milked cows, worked on construction, in the garden and served in the Guests’ refectory so that his life and monastic experience intermingled with all in the Community. He was one with whom they could share and receive a word of brotherly encouragement.

In 1990 he was, we might say, stolen from Gethsemani. Francis was elected abbot of Mepkin Abbey in South Carolina, Gethsemani’s third foundation established in 1948 on the gift of a Henry and Clare Boothe Luce estate. He was reluctant to accept the position. It took him twenty-four hours to say the yes to the election. And he moved to a comparatively small, little known community in the tide waters of the Cooper River.

The Community of older dedicated monks accepted Francis with open hearts that won him over immediately. He never stopped in his labors for the monastic Community, the wider monastic world, the diocese of Charleston where he was a very important part in the Diocesan Synod that Bishop Thompson called. One of his theological preoccupations was ecclesiology; the Synod brought his perspectives and love of the Church and the people who are the Church to new depths.

There were efforts to make the Mepkin Community a welcoming place for the people who wished to share monastic solitude. The new Church, the Luce memorial Theological Library and Conference Center and other monastic buildings were constructed. These were designed by the most demanding of designers, Benedictine Oblate of Saint John’s, Collegeville, Brother Frank Kacmarcik who met his match in Abbot Francis’ architectural wishes and perceptions. They grew in respect for each other and became true friends.

Abbot Francis with his unique perception of monastic tradition realized the importance of the place where the monks dwell. Not just the buildings but the whole ambient and he realized with the rush to industrialize South Carolina, Mepkin was being threatened; not just Mepkin but much of the ecology of tide water basin. Being a “Lover of the Place” he was energized and used his charm and powers of persuasion to gather together a rather unlikely group of land owners and concerned persons to form the “Cooper River Forum” a conservation group that has had much success in assuring the future of Cooper River as a natural habitat to be enjoyed and to balance the environmental ecological systems.

Mepkin during the years that Abbot Francis served the Community had a much more public face. As the local musical community became aware of the talent and connections of Abbot Francis, he became very active in the ongoing success of the annual Spoleto festivals in Charleston. Abbot Francis served on many boards for various issues. It is difficult to say exactly where his deepest interest was in these services. When involved in an issue it would seem that his whole energy and understanding was in that area. Theological and monastic pursuits energized him in a special manner. He was most creative in re-visioning Cistercian Publications to enable it to be financially viable by entering a partnership with Liturgical Press. Abbot Francis had a deep concern for monastic life in the developing world. It was by his initiative that the Mepkin Community took responsibility for the community of nuns in Esmeraldas, Ecuador. Francis was untiring in the concern spent for this Community, in particular for one of its members who was seriously ill and had to come to South Carolina for medical treatment. Sister Geien died weeks before Abbot Francis. Abbot Francis was very interested in a spontaneous monastic community in Nigeria, Illah. He visited and hoped to be their sponsor to enter the order. The Mepkin community was unwilling to allow him to accept additional responsibilities.

Then there was the day when he lunched with the doctor who had just done physicals on all the monks. The doctor assured Francis all the monks were in excellent health. As they said good-bye the doctor said, “All are healthy but you; I have a concern; I want to see you in my office!” And so it began in May 2002. Abbot Francis has written a book to be published in the spring of 2007 which has a chapter on the experience of the cancers as they developed; of the medical professionals; the patients with whom he shared a hospital room; of the decision to say, “No!” to more treatments and to live his remaining days with his brothers at Mepkin.

The chapter is wonderful in its insights into Francis: his empathy and his poetic ability to carry the reader into the same emotion; his perceptions of people and places; his deep respect for the other person; and his deep, deep aloneness, knowing that God is there but not feeling it. It is a chapter that is built around his monastic discipline of lectio.

At a Monastic Interreligious Dialogue gathering Abbot Francis commented on “Discipline and Spontaneity” a chapter of the book Benedict’s Dharma. A point that he made comes from art. His point is interesting. That in great art one never has a total surprise or something that is totally spontaneous. “You do have it, but the one who is surprised … (is) the one who is creating the work. The discipline itself prepares for surprise. The Rule (of Saint Benedict) itself gives rise to something greater than itself, if we are being honest and true to the practice”.

One is hard pressed to say what one force was the core of Abbot Francis’ spiritual response; certainly Jesus from the Scriptures. He was acquainted with modern biblical scholarship, but not impressed. His inspiration was the patristic literature. But perhaps even more it was his personal lectio – that monastic discipline of daily meditating on the scriptures. The Rule of Benedict was another source. He knew the Rule and used it constantly in showing others the monastic way. His priesthood was something of an identity for him, something to which he was always faithful and never hesitated to give witness. His love of the Church was central and above all the persons who are the Church. The list is without end. Whenever a person, a cause or an intellectual concern touched him, Francis was unstinting in his pursuit. If he was not interested, it was obvious. This was the case at most general chapters of the order and other such meetings. His very close friend Abbot Peter McCarthy described it perfectly in the funeral homily. “I have never before or since ever experienced anyone who could register near cosmic boredom in every facial feature no matter how sensitive the occasion might be.”

A former novice of Gethsemani who remained a friend of Francis tells of experiencing him playing an extremely complicated organ piece and acknowledging to Francis that he could hardly keep track of the notes on the page much less play them. Francis’ response, “Playing the notes is the easy part, but making music – that’s a very different thing.” And Joe McHugh comments. “Francis could make music because his technique was so disciplined that he could lose himself in the music and let it both touch and carry him, creating something new and beautiful in the process.”

It was this same principle in his monastic discipline. It was something that he had let enter so deeply into his spiritual being in those dark and forlorn days in the knobs of Kentucky that he could respond with a freedom and joy to whatever he was asked. During those days he entered into the “love of learning and the desire for God” which is the wisdom of the monastic culture. His abilities allowed him to do it with a creativity and freshness that wanted to share the riches with others. But always at the center was the discipline – technique – that limited but also created something new and beautiful in the process.

The technique, the discipline, the vows, the Rule of Benedict, the Gospel all were Brother Francis’ way to find beauty. Beauty is a transcendental, an attribute of God. There was beauty in the life we knew Francis to live; his way of accepting others; his generosity to one and all. But there was always that other dimension; a place, a relation, a musical line that was his alone. Perhaps it could be called his vocation.

There is something about Francis’ death that calls to mind the patriarch Enoch, who “walked with God: then he was no more, because God took him.” Or Elijah from the Book of Kings, “the chariot of fire and horses of fire which separated the two Prophets and Elijah ascended in a whirlwind into heaven”. And unlike Elisha we have failed to ask a double share of Prophet Francis’ spirit.