Clare of Assisi

We know Francis of Assisi. Everyone knows Francis. The guy who talked to animals, loved nature, founded the Franciscans.

But ask people about Clare of Assisi, and you get: "She was the female version of Francis, right?"

No. She wasn't the "female version" of anyone. She was a co-founder of a movement, a theological voice, a leader who built institutions that outlasted her by centuries.

But the church narrative has consistently framed her as Francis's follower, his spiritual daughter, the woman inspired by his example.

That's not entirely wrong. But it's incomplete. And the incompleteness erases the reality of their partnership—and women's leadership more broadly.

How They Actually Worked Together

Francis and Clare knew each other for over forty years. She joined his movement when she was eighteen and he was thirty. They maintained contact until Francis died in 1226.

The sources describe them as spiritual friends. They sought each other's counsel. They shared meals and conversations about God. They supported each other's vocations.

Francis wrote a rule for Clare's community. But Clare also advised Francis. When he was discouraged and considering becoming a hermit, he asked Clare and another friar for advice. Clare told him to keep preaching. He listened.

That's partnership. Mutual influence. Equal respect.

But the church narrative prefers a different story: Francis as the charismatic founder, Clare as the devoted follower who adapted his vision for women.

This downplays Clare's agency. It makes her derivative instead of innovative. It hides the collaborative nature of the early Franciscan movement.

What Clare Actually Founded

Clare didn't just create a "female branch" of the Franciscans. She founded a distinct form of religious life.

Francis and his brothers were itinerant preachers. They traveled, begged, preached publicly. That model didn't work for women in medieval society—women couldn't safely travel alone, couldn't preach in public without being labeled heretics or worse.

So Clare created an alternative: enclosed contemplative communities. Women living in absolute poverty but staying put, supporting themselves through manual labor, praying constantly.

This wasn't a lesser version of Francis's vision. It was an adapted version appropriate to the context. And it was hugely successful—hundreds of communities of Poor Clares spread across Europe within decades.

Clare also wrote her own Rule. The first monastic rule written by a woman for women.

That's not derivative. That's innovative leadership.

The Erasure Pattern

Here's the pattern I see repeatedly in church history:

A woman and a man work together to build something. Both contribute significantly. The woman often provides stability, institutional structure, theological depth.

Then the man dies and gets canonized quickly. The church narrative focuses on him as the visionary founder.

The woman continues the work, often for decades. She builds institutions, writes rules, trains leaders. Eventually she gets canonized too.

But by then, the narrative is set: He was the founder. She was the follower.

Examples:

• Francis and Clare: He gets credit for founding the Franciscans. She's the "first Poor Clare."
• Benedict and Scholastica: He wrote the Rule. She supposedly just followed it (though she likely had her own communities and influence).
• Francis de Sales and Jane de Chantal: He's the brilliant spiritual director. She's his devoted directee (even though she founded the Visitation Order and ran it for decades after he died).

This pattern is so consistent it can't be accidental. It's structural erasure of women's leadership.

Why It Matters

You might think: So what? They're both saints. They're both remembered. Does it matter who gets framed as founder vs. follower?

Yes. It matters.

Because when we tell the story wrong, we teach the wrong lessons.

If Clare is just Francis's follower, then women's role is to support men's vision, not create their own.

If Clare is his spiritual daughter, then the proper relationship between men and women in ministry is paternal/filial, not collaborative.

If Clare's contributions are derivative, then women's leadership is always secondary, adaptive, lesser.

None of that is true. But the narrative teaches it anyway.

And women today internalize it. They're taught to support, to adapt, to follow. Not to lead, innovate, or claim authority.

The Real Story

Here's what actually happened:

Francis had a vision for radical Gospel living. He started a brotherhood. It grew rapidly.

Clare heard about it and wanted in. She joined, bringing other women with her. Francis supported her, but he didn't control her.

Clare created a parallel movement for women. She adapted the Franciscan charism to fit women's context. She wrote a Rule. She fought popes to preserve her vision of poverty. She built a network of communities.

Francis and Clare influenced each other. They were friends, colleagues, spiritual companions.

When Francis died, Clare continued for another twenty-seven years. She didn't just maintain what he'd started. She developed it further. She wrote. She led. She fought for her vision.

That's the real story. Partnership. Mutual influence. Two leaders building a movement together, each contributing uniquely.

But we don't tell it that way.

Reclaiming the Partnership

What would change if we told the story correctly?

We'd see medieval women as agents, not just recipients of men's ministry.

Clare wasn't passive. She made choices. She ran away from her family. She fought popes. She built institutions.

We'd recognize that religious movements have always been collaborative.

Francis gets mythologized as the lone genius founder. But movements don't work that way. They're built by networks of people, including women, who contribute leadership, resources, theological insight.

We'd have better models for men and women working together.

If Francis and Clare were partners, not patriarch and spiritual daughter, then we have a model for collaborative ministry across genders. That's desperately needed now.

We'd expect women to lead.

If Clare was a founder, not just a follower, then women founding things is normal. Expected. Part of how God works.

What We Owe Clare

We owe Clare the truth. Not the sanitized, romanticized version where she's the sweet, devoted girl inspired by Francis's example.

The real Clare: Radical. Strategic. Stubborn. Willing to fight bishops and popes to defend her vision. A theological voice. A leader who built institutions that lasted centuries.

The Clare who was Francis's partner, not his follower.

That Clare is more useful to us. Because she shows what's possible. Even in a patriarchal church. Even when the systems are stacked against you.

She founded something. She defended it. She passed it on to other women. And it endured.

That's the story we need to tell.

Prayer for Partners in Ministry

God,

We're tired of narratives that erase women's leadership, minimize women's contributions, frame partnership as hierarchy.

Help us tell the truth about Clare and Francis, about Scholastica and Benedict, about all the women whose work built the church but whose stories got rewritten.

Give us partnerships that are actually partnerships— mutual respect, shared authority, collaborative leadership.

Help us see women as founders, innovators, leaders— not just supporters, followers, adaptors.

And when the systems try to minimize us, when the narratives try to erase us, when the church tries to fit us into smaller roles than we're called to—

Give us Clare's stubbornness. Her willingness to fight. Her clarity about her vocation. Her refusal to accept a diminished version of what she knew God called her to build.

Through Clare, who was Francis's partner, who founded her own movement, who refused to be erased—

Teach us to claim our place.

Amen.