Clare of Assisi: Risking All, the First Step
- Roch Niemier, OFM
- Sep 11
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 19
Children sometimes play a game of dare. They dare, or double dare, each other to do things all the time as part of their play. It could be as simple as wading through a puddle after a heavy rainfall, or climbing a billboard, or crossing a busy street. Today it could be members of a street gang daring someone to shoot.
These games strengthen the ego identity of the darer and challenge the courage of the one dared. Usually the dare is innocent enough although sometimes it could involve dire consequences as often seen in college hazing or street gang activities.
On Palm Sunday night in 1212 St. Clare responded to a dare that changed her life forever. She dared to listen to the inspiration of God; she dared to accept the gospel as her only treasure; she dared to embrace a vision of life that Francis held out to her. The Legend of Saint Clare describes the event briefly.
On that night, preparing to obey the command of the saint, she embarked upon her long-desired flight with a virtuous companion. Since she was not content to leave by way of the usual door, marveling at her strength, she broke open with her own hands that other door that is customarily blocked by wood and stone.
To help us understand the profundity of this step, consider for a moment another scene in Matthew’s account (14:22–33) of Jesus walking on water and inviting Peter to come to him. We know the story: Jesus just fed five thousand; he dismissed the crowds, sent the disciples on their way across the sea, went off to pray and then came walking on the water toward them as they battled a storm.
This occasioned an encounter with Peter, who said, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Peter dared Jesus and in turn Jesus dared Peter to see and believe. He simply said, “Come.” And that’s exactly what Peter did. He stepped out of the boat and began to walk across those rolling waters with his eyes fixed on Jesus. Imagine that first step! Imagine the risk and the courage, fleeting as it may have been.
I think of Clare’s first step out of her home as she left to join Francis. Not knowing what was to happen, she made the decision to risk all and trust in a future based on God’s promises. God in effect said to Clare, “Come, walk on water, trust my word.” And that’s what Clare did. Imagine her first step!
The scene in the Gospel also called forth faith from Peter. At first glance Peter failed miserably. Why? He was already halfway to Jesus when he took his eyes off Jesus and looked instead at the crashing waves and heard the roaring wind, and then said to himself, “This is crazy. I can’t walk on water.”
He sank like a rock. But he had indeed walked on water. He had been able to do the impossible, because his eyes were fixed on Jesus, and because his heart, his whole heart, was fixed on Jesus too. Walking on water only became impossible for Peter when he looked away from the Lord.
Clare must have had moments of doubt about her decision in the years that followed. We know, however, how steadfastly she maintained her gaze upon Jesus, always finding in that gaze clarity of purpose and conviction in her chosen path. The good news about Peter is that doubt did not lead to drowning but deeper faith. Likewise for Clare.
Like the invitation of Peter and Clare, Jesus is inviting us to walk on water and do the impossible: to build wonderful lives and wonderful friendships, not off in some safe, otherworldly haven, but here and now in the midst of all the troubles and tragedies that life can serve us. The reason so many of us sink and are drowned in our troubles, or sink beneath the waves and turmoil of our difficulties is that we take our eyes off Jesus and begin to rely only on ourselves.
How do we find the power to walk on water and do the impossible? Exactly as St. Peter and St. Clare did, by keeping our eyes and hearts fixed on Jesus. He will show us where to walk and will give us the energy and courage to walk there.
We will not falter or sink into the sea as long as our eyes and hearts are set on him. And he promises more than mere survival as the waters rage and the winds howl around us. He promises us joy and peace, even while life is battering us.
On many of the Franciscan Pilgrimage Programs, the group is led in a touching and powerful ritual. We call it “Clare’s Ritual of Departure.” Shortly after dusk has fallen, we gather in the Piazza of San Rufino near what would have been Clare’s paternal home. From there until the Porta Moiano, one of the eight gates of the city, we wend our way through Assisi in the dark, making six or seven stops to reflect on what might have been going on in Clare’s heart and thoughts.
St. Clare made the momentous decision to leave her home and join Francis’ movement as the first Franciscan woman. Imagine the blackness of night; imagine the firmness of her decision; imagine the trepidation and fear that also must have filled her spirit; imagine her first step.
But Clare, with a trusted companion, silently made her way to the ancient Porta Moiano, a departure from the city of her birth. Some of the brothers were waiting just outside the gate with torches to take her to Francis at the Porziuncola below.
Testimony from Clare’s Process of Canonization indicates that her home bordered the Piazza of San Rufino. Tradition also tells us that Saint Clare’s grandfather, Offreduccio, donated part of the land in front of his manor house for the enlargement of the new cathedral of San Rufino. Historians use this to demonstrate that Clare’s paternal home was very near the cathedral, just to the left of it. Very likely the cathedral was the parish church for the family.
When in Assisi, walk up the hill from the Piazza Comune to the Piazza of San Rufino. Imagine Clare risking all by taking that first step to join Francis. Read Matthew 14:22–33 and compare Peter’s first step onto the water with Clare’s first step out of her paternal home.
Take a slow walk through the city, preferably at night, and head for the Porta Moiano. It is a gate not used by many. On passing through the gate, there is total darkness. Light a candle and spend some minutes recalling Clare’s departure from home. Hear God’s invitation to risk all for the sake of the kingdom.
What might be the first step to take?








Comments