🇬🇧 The Compunction of the Heart: The Road to an Enduring Conversion

Homily given by Fr Serafino M. Lanzetta on 21 February 2026Saturday after Ash Wednesday

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Brothers and Sisters,

Today, on this Saturday after Ash Wednesday, we gather for a day of fraternity and formation. We have just begun our Lenten journey, and I would like to reflect with you on the importance of guarding the heart. In particular, I would like to focus on compunction of heart — a great spiritual exercise for Lent — and to consider it from a Franciscan perspective. We will look at the life of our Seraphic Father, Saint Francis.

First, what is compunction? The word comes from the Latin compunctiocum and pungere: “to prick sharply.” It means to be pierced, to be stung. When a nail penetrates your skin, your body, you feel pain. Compunction is like that — a piercing of the heart. It is the sting of conscience.

Why should we experience compunction? Because of our sins. When we call to mind the sins we have committed, and the grace we have received in being forgiven, that remembrance stirs the conscience and produces a holy sorrow. If we feel that interior pain, that is compunction.

If we do not feel it, something is lacking. For if I do not experience the sting of my sins within me, I will not return to the Lord with my whole heart. I remain entangled in my sin. The only way to reject sin and truly turn toward the Lord is to be sincerely sorrowful for the offense I have caused — to my Lord, to my neighbour, and to myself.

Compunction is the beginning of the journey toward holiness. But we must be clear: this is not about unhealthy self-absorption or scrupulosity. Scrupulosity is not a virtue; it is a kind of spiritual illness. Compunction is different. It is not fixation on sin, but a humble remembrance of its gravity and of the mercy that rescued us from it. It produces gratitude, love, and conversion.

Notice again the word: cum-pungere — more literally “to pierce with.” There is co-operation implied here by the cum “with”. Grace moves us, but we must respond. We cooperate with God’s grace in allowing our hearts to be pierced by sorrow — not in despair, but in love. We co-operate as Our Lady did, but in a perfect and unparalleled manner at the Foot of the Cross. She is our Co-redemptrix, model of compunction for our sins.

When we look at the life of Saint Francis, we see a man deeply marked by compunction. He often stirred up within himself sorrow for the years he had lived far from the Lord, ignoring God’s love and offending Him. That memory, united with the remembrance of Our Lord’s Passion, was enough to move him to tears throughout his life. Toward the end of his life, he was nearly blind from weeping.

As compunction grows and becomes more perfect, we no longer weeps only for our own sins. We weeps because the Love is not loved. You suffer because Jesus is not loved. That was the deeper compunction of Saint Francis.

There is a striking episode in his life, recounted by Blessed Thomas of Celano in his first biography of the Poverello. Saint Francis went to Rome with a great desire to preach to the Pope and the Roman Curia. He burned with zeal to proclaim Christ. Cardinal Ugolino, protector of the friars, hesitated. He feared that Francis, in his simplicity, might be mocked. He trusted in the Lord, and the preaching was arranged.

As Francis spoke with ardent love for Jesus, those present were moved to sorrow. That solemn congregation of prelates was stirred to compunction. Many were brought to tears. Such was the power of a heart pierced by love: it pierced other hearts as well. Compunction is deeply Franciscan — though, of course, it is profoundly Christian. Saint Francis, the saint of the heart, emphasizes love. And compunction is love wounded by awareness of sin and by longing for God.

Saint Bonaventure, the Seraphic Doctor, explains why compunction is so necessary. He teaches that compunction guards the heart. And he says, in The Threefold way, that the heart is well guarded if three things are carefully examined. First, we must recall our sins in order to accuse ourselves of negligence. Second, we must examine our disordered desire. Third, we must acknowledge the evil we have committed. This is not psychological self-analysis for its own sake. It is an honest moral reckoning before God.

Saint Bonaventure insists particularly on disordered desire and writes that we must reflect to see whether within us there exists disordered desire for:

  • sensual pleasure,
  • curiosity,
  • or vanity.

These, he says, are roots of much evil.

  • Disordered desire for pleasure means craving what is sweet, soft, or luxurious — excessive attachment to fine food, fine clothing, or comfort.
  • Disordered curiosity is the desire to know what does not concern us, to see what flatters the senses, or to possess what is too expensive.
  • Vanity is the desire for praise, favour, and honour.

These desires distract the heart and weaken it. If we root them out, we guard the heart. Compunction helps us recognize them and return to what is essential.

However, Saint Bonaventure ultimately has something even greater in mind: the pierced Heart of Jesus. The model of compunction is the Sacred Heart pierced on the Cross. Though Christ was already dead, the wound revealed the depth of His love. “The wound of the flesh reveals the wound of the spirit,” says St Bonaventure in other great work on the Passion of Our Lord, The Mystical Vine. This is love poured out to the end.

Certainly, Jesus’ compunction is not born of disorder. In Christ, as in Our Lady, there is no disordered desire. Their Hearts are pierced not by their sin, but by perfect love and by taking on them our own sin. The wound of Christ’s Heart and the sword that pierced Mary’s Heart are wounds of love. This is what we are called to imitate: the two Sacred Hearts pierced by Passion, Compassion and charity.

My dear brothers and sisters, let us begin to do something we too. On his deathbed, Saint Francis said to his friars: “Let us begin to serve the Lord, for up to now we have done little.” Let us take those words personally. Let us begin today. Let us ask for hearts wounded — not by despair, but by love. Hearts pierced by the love of Jesus and the love of His Blessed Mother, our dear Co-Redemptrix. Amen.


🎙️ Here you can listen to the homily: