Dynamic of Faith, Faith as a journey

Today the privilege of spending time with friends who share with me the journey of faith. Lent is a particular time to step back to be rejuvenated in the joyfulness of loving. It seems to me that Lent and for that matter, the whole of Christian life, is a journey in loving joyfully. The cynics among us are critical of this line of thinking because it sounds wishy-washy. On the contrary, it is serious path to deepen not only the relationship with the Lord, but also living with others.

What is faith? How is faith understood? Today’s retreat director, Fr. Luis, made a key point: Faith is a relationship with an alive presence—that of Jesus. It is a dynamic of Faith; we know deeply that faith is a journey. So, I can say with conviction that my relationship with Jesus Christ (and the Church and community) 5 years ago is vastly different from what it is today.

What faith is not is one that is not a creed that I can have or lose. A barometer or something that can be bought or sold. Faith is not a thing one can lose. We often hear that people lose their faith, or that faith has dried up, or that faith has been ruined by another (think of those victims of abuse). What is true that one can experience a lessening of the awareness of the life of faith informing our person and how we live. Faith is, rather, a way of seeing, a way of knowing, and a way of living. Once Jesus Christ has entered my life he is always with me. The covenant will never be altered; no matter what our behavior may or may not be. We belong to Jesus who never walks away. Belonging is what revealed in Scripture and in tradition; it is way of being in relation even if we don’t feel like being in relationship with the Lord.

The journey of faith is shown in the Scriptures in powerful ways. Think of how the apostles first met the Lord. Think of the Samaritan woman at the well. Think of the parable of the mustard seed which contains hope because it contains the germ of life.

What’s the journey about? Some notes.

1. Faith as loving recognition. (Generating Traces, p. 22)

Recognition is more than intellectual assent. Recognizing moves me. It’s a loving approach. It comes as a surprise, unscripted. There’s a correspondence or a convergence with the heart. This correspondence happens with Jesus in seeing & being with him. It’s a loving recognition, it’s an affection.

Faith isn’t about rules. The emphasis on a  rule based Christian faith follows a false premise. First one needs to be converted and conversion is less about following the “rules” than it is entering into friendship with the God who is certain. Otherwise it’s empty and pretentious. We try to give people what they don’t need by insisting on a  rule based faith. This is certainly not what is revealed in Scripture. A conversation about canon law, the moral life, theological data is another conversation. At this moment I know that the God I know and love is a God who makes exceptions for me; he is the God of the perpetual second chance (think of sacrament of Confession and of the Eucharist).

Love can be manifested things like, Be kind to yourself.

I know I have a desire to be loved. Having a claim on the love of others is a true desire and event. We who have encountered Christ have written the religious sense. What we often hear, however, is “Don’t get involved.” Not quite the Christian way. This person has the same desire to be loved but they put a brake on receiving love.

2. Lenten is an Experience as a surprise. To be human to exist with recognition of an absence to be fulfilled. Prayer, fasting, works of charity are tools for the Lord to fill the absence that these tools create. We need something that will fulfill us.

St Paul’s letter to the Colossians tells us that Christ is the image of the invisible God.

The infinite love of God shapes our life because our humanity is taken seriously. God gives me someone to love and to be loved by that person. This is how God reveals himself. But more importantly we come to ask what it means to be open to the Other.

Prayer allows Christ to enter our lives. Allow him to grow in us.

Now we come to getting a handle on what the liturgical season of lent is for the Catholic. So many preachers and teachers make Lent out to be drudgery: a 40-day period difficult time of renunciation and penance. Don’t get me wrong. Lent is a serious time of changing the ugliness of sin in my experience by Grace into something new. But it is not my work.  Lent is the time in which we ask Christ to work in me.

Lent’s work is keeping memory active.

Lent as a time of memory. Our personal experience of salvation. Memory keeps us focused in the essential movements of Grace. It is  how recognize, how we remember how God actually works here and now. How do you recall daily the events of God you in your life? How do you remember? What are the steps? Silence. Daily Silence makes sense of this life. It helps me to be present to the moment and not to be frivolous with that which is in front of me. Silence allows me to account for my heart. Silence brings awareness to life. It also allows Christ to enter into my heart.

3. Faith as missionary event.

If we allow Christ into our life, that we met him, we by nature to share the grace with others. We thus become a light in the world.

Witness to unity. Not to see how good they are but how Christ is operating in the person, in the world. To live communion.

John 17: as you sent me, I send them, that we are one.

Meeting friends

Earlier today approximately 75 members of Communion and Liberation gathered at the Cabrini Shrine in Washington Heights, NYC for the CL Beginning Day. Conversation, a witness, a lesson and the Vigil Mass for Sunday was offered. The Day was awash with an abundance of rain but spirits weren’t dampened. The U.S. Responsible for Communion and Liberation, Father Michael Carvill, FSCB, led the day.

The “nice thing” is that some members of weekly a zoom School of Community took a photo. Unique here is that many zoom meetings rarely afford the personal meeting of people. For me, this group is a mix of old and new friends; some friends live at a distance from New York so the photo becomes a sign of friendship.

An Advent Day with Communion and Liberation CT

Today we –two of Connecticut’s Schools of Community– tried something different: we had an Advent Day of Recollection in Connecticut!

The Nutmeg State has two Schools of Community that until recently had not too much to do with one another for no other reason that we just didn’t do much with each other. There are other excuses of distance, flavor, time, place, etc. However, what is not disputable has been the desire of several of us find a way for us to share in friendship, prayer, and a quest for unity in Christ!

A few people feeling convinced by the Holy Spirit to propose a Fraternal Day (which we had on October 30th) and the Advent Day of Recollection. It is fair to say that we attribute our desires for true communio to the Holy Spirit. Two moments of grace in 2022 have opened to us a vision of living the charism of Communion and Liberation more intently and with a deeper of purpose together.  Nineteen people from the New Haven, Newtown and NY communities gathered for the Advent lesson, Holy Mass, the sacrament of Confession, lovely conversation and good food.

Lots of beautiful things happen through a convivium on several levels! As a gastropod I experience the convivial through good nutritious food because it is an experience of truth, beauty, goodness AND love; it is supreme only after being nourished by the Holy Eucharist. The emphasis may be on virtue of love. I recall that St Augustine taught a two table theology: the Holy Table and the dinner table –we are first “gathered at the banquet of the saints, … [and] we shall partake of the table of God’s mysteries” and “eat as is fitting.” Augustine also reminds us that we can eat well but digest poorly if we hear God’s word without putting it into practice (a paraphrase). Hence, I perceive the act of convivium as a real Catholic virtue! It is full of love and it is sacrificial.

And virtue needs to be extroverted: our friends in two different schools of community and a few others, lived this conviviality with a desire born out of the Eucharist.

Father Luis Hernandez, a priest of the Fraternity of St. Charles Borromeo working in the Boston area made the trip to be with us. He spoke with us, journeyed with us, laughed with us, loved us in a beautiful way. He reflected back to us that “It was also good for me to live the retreat of the Fraternity in a new and special way. It’s great to see how the Movement is different in its external aspects, but the same in its essence.”

The gift of place was made possible by my experience and relationship with the Promisek community in Bridgewater, CT. Promisek is a large piece of property in Litchfield County, Connecticut, held in stewardship as place of retreat, conversation, culture, and learning. People of diverse experience and history relate to the land of Promisek because it is a healing place, a place of deep personal and communal education, and a place of conversion rooted in the spirituality of the Rule of St. Benedict. A fitting connection of CL with Promisek exists because each are deeply informed and formed by the experience of Benedictine community: prayer, work, reading (study) and service. I always recognize that CL is truly a profound reality — an experience– of being sons and daughters of St. Benedict of Nursia. We may not say it that way on a corporate level, but we are this type of community. We are not monks or nuns or sisters, but we all relate to the charism of Luigi Giussani that depends on the recognition of the Lord’s Presence (the Incarnation) and the truth, beauty and goodness of creation.

More at another time on the content of the lesson.

A walk with friends today

Today was a beautiful January day in Connecticut. It was a most pleasant day to take a walk in Chatfield Hollow State Park (Killingworth, CT) with fellow friends who follow together in Communion and Liberation –an ecclesial movement in the Church. It’s been years since I’ve been in Chatfield Hollow. It was a  melancholy day since we were together with our friends Razib and Nur and their son who are moving to California taking up a new mission in life in academic research and Evelyn who is headed back to work in Germany.

Our walk together reminded me of the feast day this past week of the Cistercian abbot Saint Aelred of Rievaulx who wrote extensively of friendship, particularly spiritual friendship. In fact, I had received a week ago a scientific biography of Aelred. Friendship is what binds us together in and for life. I am thinking of the classic definition by Cicero (De Amicitia 6.20): “Friendship is agreement in things human and divine, with good will (benevolentia) and charity (caritas).”

I am grateful for the friendship I share with so many, very particularly the friendship I share in Communion and Liberation.

Benedictine Spirituality III: The Ear of Your Heart

Last week Dom Boniface’s Part I in Benedictine Spirituality I: Silence and then Part II of the Benedictine Spirituality II: The Master’s Instructions. Here is Part III: The Ear of the Heart.

I also highly recommend not only to the Oblates but also those who follow Communion and Liberation to attend all the essays as there are points of convergence in our work in the School of Community.

The Ear of the Heart – “attend to them with the ear of your heart”

Saint Benedict teaches the monk in the first verse that there is a deeper way of listening. We take in reality through our five external senses (sight, hearing, etc.) but we also learn to detect something deeper. Reality is not merely a scientfic fact. All of reality conveys meaning as well. When we look at a car we do not normally see a metal object made of thousands of parts. Rather we see transportation that moves us from point A to point B. When we look at a subway car or a subway line, it appears to us as a portal that picks us up at one place and drops us at another. When we see physical objects, their meaning presents themselves to us first. This is so strong, in fact, that we simply do not see things that are not meaningful to us. When we are driving on the highway, we block out most of the things around us and focus on a few things in front of us. When we are walking through city streets we simply never notice things that do not affect us or have any impact on our purpose. The direction of our intention (the focus of our inner eye or the attention of our inner ear) determines what we perceive. This is why it is so important to focus our attention appropriately, and Saint Benedict instructs us to focus the attention of the ear of heart on the Master’s instructions.

God speaks through everything. The Word is constantly expressing Itself through creation and through history. The Word can be heard in human events and through human voices. Every event carries a deeper meaning if we can tune our ears to hear it.

A Benedictine motto was developed in the 18th century to summarize the Benedictine life: ora et labora (pray and work). By focusing on prayer first, but then by balancing prayer and work, the monk learns to listen to God even during his work. Saint Benedict noted that the monk is to “regard all utensils and goods of the monastery as sacred vessels of the altar and nothing is to be neglected” (RB 31:10-11). This shows the potential that Saint Benedict sees for finding God in work. Work can be carried out with attention and reverence. The monk can listen to God with the ears of the heart as he carries out simple, mundane tasks or as he takes on complex challenges. Throughout history, monks have carried out simple tasks such as cleaning and cooking and copying books, more complex tasks like gardening and farming, and creative work like art and music. In those activities, monks have been innovators. The first geneticist was a monk. Monks developed technologies to assist in their work. The noteworthy thing, however, is that in the midst of all of it, Benedictines have tried to listen to God with the ear of the heart.

The ear of the heart could be described as a contemplative sensitivity. In the Catechism, contemplation, or “inner prayer” is defined as a prayer that can take place at all times and persists in the heart: “One cannot always meditate, but one can always enter into inner prayer, independently of the conditions of health, work, or emotional state. The heart is the place of this quest and encounter, in poverty and in faith” (CCC 2710). “Contemplative prayer is hearing the Word of God” (CCC 2716) by which we “enter into the presence of him who awaits us” (CCC 2711). St. Thomas Aquinas described contemplative prayer as a loving awareness of God’s presence. These descriptions all point to a knowledge that is not rational, but intuitive. We describe it as “heart-knowledge” or a hearing with the ear of the heart.

Saint Benedict encourages his monks to remain in this kind of contemplative prayer by always being attentive with the ear of the heart. Even while the mind is dedicated to a particular task, the heart can continue listening and thus remain connected to the Word of God. Just as we can be aware of the presence of a beloved friend in the room with us even while we are intensely focused on a particular activity, so also the monk seeks to be aware of the presence of God while he carries out his daily work. Saint Benedict instructs the monk always to remember that he is beneath the loving gaze of God (RB 7:13-14). He also calls the monk to continually pray in the heart, especially seeking mercy in his sinfulness (RB 7:65). To keep this contemplative prayer alive, only short acts of recollection are needed. This is why Saint Benedict tells the monk his prayer need not be prolonged, but rather “short and pure” (RB 20:4). A little burst of attention, a short prayer such as “My Jesus, my mercy” or “Jesus, I trust in you” can be enough to keep the flame of loving attention alive in the heart. The Catechism reaffirms that “Contemplative prayer is silence, the ‘symbol of the world to come’ or ‘silent love.’ Words in this kind of prayer are not speeches; they are like kindling that feeds the fire of love” (CCC 2717). Saint Benedict directs his monks to spend many hours every day praying with Scripture and the monk can carry a few words from that time of prayer to use as “kindling” to keep the flame of contemplation alive in the heart.

We have seen now that Benedictine spirituality can be summarized in the first verse of the Rule of Saint Benedict: “Listen, my son, to the Master’s instructions and attend to them with the ear of your heart.” By including more silence in our lives and opening our hearts in humble obedience, we can learn to listen better. Likewise, by prioritizing our prayer and the time we spend in the place of prayer, we can learn to listen to God who is the Master and then also learn to hear Him throughout the events of the day. Lastly, by learning to be attentive with the ear of the heart, we can carry out our daily duty with unceasing, contemplative prayer. Such prayerful work lies at the heart of Benedictine spirituality.

Benedictine Spirituality II: The Master’s Instructions

The other day Part I in Benedictine Spirituality –Silence– given by Dom Boniface Hicks, monk of St Vincent’s Archabbey. Now in Part II of the Benedictine Spirituality, Dom Boniface explores The Master’s Instructions and our developing the sensitivity to the divine Presence. Where is your heart? Who is your God? How docile are you to the Lord’s promptings?

Those who follow Communion and Liberation and who live as Oblates will want to attend to this essay as there are points of convergence.

The Divine Presence – “The Master’s instructions”

Saint Benedict exhorts the monk to listen to the “Master’s” instructions. Who is the Master? On the one hand the Master is God. On the other hand, it refers to those who hold divine authority, such as the Abbot, but also to other authorities like parents, government leaders, teachers, elders, etc. In other words, God certainly instructs us directly, but He also instructs us through other people. This principle is repeated several times in the Rule of Benedict and it is an extremely important one for our Christian lives. Blessed Columba Marmion, OSB noted that the central theme of the whole Rule of Benedict is expressed in this idea found in Saint Benedict’s exhortation: “We believe the divine presence is everywhere…but beyond the least doubt we should believe this to be especially true when we celebrate the divine office” (RB 19:1-2).

The beginning of our awareness of God generally happens in a religious experience. Our communal celebrations, including the Mass, the Liturgy of the Hours and the other Sacraments, are important points of contact with God. It is critical that they be celebrated in a reverent and devoted manner. When these great times of prayer are beautiful and prayerful, they can be a cause for conversion. They should be bright with music, but balanced with times of silent reflection. They must be led confidently, reverently and prayerfully. These are the expectation of Saint Benedict when he reminds us that “beyond the least doubt we should believe” the divine presence is to be found in the divine office (RB 19:2). We must conduct ourselves in communal prayer and in the Church as we would conduct ourselves in the presence of a mighty ruler: “Whenever we want to ask some favor of a powerful man, we do it humbly and respectfully, for fear of presumption” (RB 20:1). Rather than carrying on raucous conversations or irreverent worldly activities in Church we must always act in a manner that reminds ourselves and also shows others that the One True God is present there in His Flesh reserved in the Tabernacle.

Saint Benedict expects us to develop a sensitivity to the divine presence by celebrating the liturgy well and taking the words of God on our lips seven times a day. “Let us stand to sing the psalms in such a way that our minds are in harmony with our voices (mens concordet voci)” (RB 19:7). Normally we first form words in our minds and then we speak them out with our voices. When we pray the psalms, however, the words are given to us to speak, but then they begin to form our minds. In this way, we allow the Word to form our way of thinking, which in turn can form our way of acting. After repeating the words of the psalms, the liturgical prayers and the readings from Mass, our hearts become more and more sensitive to the divine presence. We start to see his fingerprints and footprints all around us. We see His presence in the lives of others—in the lives of other monks and in the lives of the guests who come to the monastery. We see His Presence in our work. We see His presence in the sick members of the community. We see His presence in the Abbot. We see His presence at our meals. By becoming sensitized to the Word of God and taking on the mind of Christ, we start to see the divine presence everywhere in our lives.

This brings us back to the question, “Who is the Master?” The Master is God and we must take time in liturgical prayer and in personal prayer in order to begin hearing God and to sensitize our hearts to His presence. As we do that, however, we also start to see Him in everything. The monk is the one who arranges His day around repeated acts of attention to the divine presence. He regularly interrupts every other activity because “nothing is to be preferred to the Work of God” (RB 43:3). With his visits to the oratory and his celebrations of the liturgy of the hours at the center of his day, the monk makes acts of recollection throughout the rest of his day to renew his awareness of the divine presence. In Saint Benedict’s time it was already encouraged by St. John Cassian to recite the verse of Psalm 70: “God, come to my assistance. Lord, make haste to help me.” Cassian identified that verse as a defense against every attack of the Enemy and as a simple way to return one’s attention to God throughout the day. In the subsequent centuries, the Jesus Prayer served a similar purpose, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” With these brief prayers, the monk can bring his awareness of the presence of God, which is especially strong in the places of prayer, out into the rest of his life. He can learn to hear the instructions of the Great Master through every other little “master”. Even in sinful men or atheists, the prayerful monk can learn to be aware of the Presence of God.

Part I

Communion and Liberation sainthood causes

The Fraternity of Communion and Liberation has four people who are in some process of beatification/canonization and study for thereof. There is, of course, the Servant of God Father Luigi Giussani, the Servant of God Andrea Aziani, the Servant of God Enzo Piccinini and the soon to be beatified Carlo Acutis.

 

The other day on the website for Communion and Liberation there was an update on beatification of Enzo Piccinini. The update is that the nulla osta for the cause of beatification has been received from the Congregation for Saints. Only twelve months ago was the cause opened. The news came on “twenty-first anniversary of the death of the Modenese surgeon, friend and collaborator of Fr. Giussani, celebrated on Tuesday, May 26.” The nulla osta from the Holy See means that the diocesan inquiry for the cause can officially begin.

The announcement can be read be here.

In addition, we in the Movement are also waiting on the diligent work on the sainthood caused for Father Luigi Giussani, Andrea Aziani and the beatification of the Venerable Servant of God Carlo Acutis. We await word of a date for the beatification ceremony for Acutis.

The Acutis Family doesn’t have a history of practicing the Catholic Faith and there is speculation that the Polish woman who cared for Carlo introduced him to the person of Jesus. Known as a techi, Carlo was involved with CL and the Rimini Meeting. Two brief intros into the life and person of Carlo Acutis are from OSV and Crux. Acutis is a saint whose mission is (and was) to draw our attention to the reality of the Holy Eucharist and our devotion to the Most Blessed Sacrament.

Andrea Aziani died 12 years ago while serving the Lord in Peru, where as a consecrated member of CL’s Memores Domini, he taught Philosophy at a school he helped to establish, Sedes Sapientiae University. His was a life to dedicated to Christ through the service of the poor. His cause proceeds.

Aziani’s postulator is Father Antonio Nurena.

Saints beget saints.

Welcome without partiality

The role of hospitality is deeply embedded in the fabric of Christian life. It is modeled and encouraged by countless of witnesses over the millennia. I am thinking of my experience of the people in rural areas, and the monks and nuns, notably the Benedictines (in several monasteries) but also hospitality as a pivotal value in other Christian communities like the New Skete communities (Orthodox monks, nuns, lay companions).

Saint Benedict says,
“Let all guests who arrive be received like Christ, for He is going to say, “I came as a guest, and you received Me” (Matt. 25:35). And to all let due honor be shown, especially to the domestics of the faith and to pilgrims,” (Rule of Benedict, 53).

Benedict’s wisdom is a conviction based on Jesus Christ and the Christian community that the guest is to be welcomed as Christ. Hospitality forms a culture of avoiding the distinctions of race, gender, economic advantage, education, age and health. There’s a welcome without partiality.

I firmly believe that hospitality in Communion and Liberation is formed by witnesses not only by Benedictines (from which the Movement owes much) but also by the lay faithful who are serious about faith, life and other people. We still have lots to reflect upon and to learn.

It seems to me that we need to work on the recent narrative (see this link) in the recent CL Newsletter and The Miracle of Hospitality by Father Giussani.

Benedictines are our memory

Some Lenten meditation. While the Bishop’s letter speaks directly to the vocations monks and nuns there is much wisdom that oblates and members of Communion and Liberation can draw on.

Thanks to Dom Thomas of Marmion Abbey who works at the Pontifical Greek College, Rome.

A beautiful letter by Bishop Aiello of Avellino

Monastics’ gift to Italy

Letter to the nuns and monks:

We turn to you, sisters and brother monks, to ask for your prayers, to support your raised arms, like those of Moses on the mountain, in this time of particular danger and unease for our communities: by your persistent prayerful intercession, we acquire resilience and future victory.

You are the only ones who do not move a facial muscle in the face of the rain of decrees and restrictive measures that rain on us these days because what we are asked for, for some time you have always done it and what we suffer you have chosen.

Teach us the art of being content living  with nothing, in a small space, without going out, yet engaged in internal journeys that do not need planes and trains.

“Give us your oil” to understand that the spirit cannot be imprisoned, and the narrower the space, the wider the skies open.

Reassure us that you can live even for a short time and be joyful, remember that poverty is the unavoidable condition of every being because, as Don Primo Mazzolari said, “being a man is enough to be a poor man”.

Give us back the ability to savor the little things you who smile of a blooming lilac at the cell window and greet a swallow that comes to say that spring has come, you who are moved by a pain and still exulted by the miracle of the bread that is baked in the oven.

Tell us that it is possible to be together without being crowded together, to correspond from afar, to kiss without touching each other, to touch each other with the caress of a look or a smile, or simply … a gaze at each other.

Remind us that a word is important if it is reflected upon, ruminated within the heart for a period of time, leavened in the soul’s recesses, seen blooming on the lips of another, called a low voice, not shouted or cutting because of hurt.

But, even more, teach us the art of silence, of the light that rests on the windowsill, of the sun rising “as a bridegroom coming out of the bridal room” or setting “in the sky that tinges with fire”, of the quiet of the evening, of the candle lit that casts shadows on the walls of the choir.

Tell us that it is possible to wait for a hug even for a lifetime because “there is a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embraces,” says Qoelet. President Conte said that at the end of this time of danger and restrictions we will still embrace each other in the feast, for you there are still twenty, thirty, forty years to wait …

Educate us to do things slowly, solemnly, without haste, paying attention to details because every day is a miracle, every meeting a gift, every step a step in the throne room, the movement of a dance or a symphony.

Whisper to us that it is important to wait, postpone a kiss, a gift, a caress, a word, because waiting for a feast increases its brilliance and “the best is yet to come”.

Help us understand that an accident can be a grace and a sorrow can hide a gift, a departure can increase affection and a distance that can finally lead us to encounter and communion.

To you, teachers and masters of the hidden and happy life, we entrust our uneasiness, our fears, our remorse, our missed appointments with God who always awaits us, you take everything in your prayer and give it back to us in joy, in a bouquet of flowers and peaceful days. Amen.

Lettera alle monache e ai monaci:

Ci rivolgiamo a voi, sorelle e fratelli monaci, per chiedere la vostra preghiera, per sostenere le vostre braccia alzate, come quelle di Mosè sul monte, in questo tempo di particolare pericolo e disagio per le nostre comunità provate: dalla vostra resistenza nell’intercessione dipende la nostra resilienza e la futura vittoria.

Siete gli unici  a non muovere un muscolo facciale dinnanzi alla pioggia di decreti e provvedimenti restrittivi che ci piovono addosso in questi giorni perché ciò che ci viene chiesto per alcun tempo voi lo fate già da sempre e ciò che noi subiamo voi lo avete scelto.

Insegnateci l’arte di vivere contenti di niente, in un piccolo spazio, senza uscire, eppure impegnati in viaggi interiori che non hanno bisogno di aerei e di treni.

“Dateci del vostro olio” per capire che lo spirito non può essere imprigionato, e più angusto è lo spazio più ampi si aprono i cieli.

Rassicurateci che si può vivere anche di poco ed essere nella gioia, ricordateci che la povertà è la condizione ineludibile di ogni essere perché, come diceva don Primo Mazzolari, “basta essere uomo per essere un pover’uomo”.

Ridateci il gusto delle piccole cose voi che sorridete di un lillà fiorito alla finestra della cella e salutate una rondine che viene a dire che primavera è arrivata, voi che vi commuovete per un dolore e ancora esultate per il miracolo del pane che si indora nel forno.

Diteci che è possibile essere insieme senza essere ammassati, corrispondere da lontano, baciarsi senza toccarsi, sfiorarsi con la carezza di uno sguardo o di un sorriso, semplicemente… guardarsi.

Ricordateci che la parola è importante se pensata, tornita a lungo nel cuore, fatta lievitare nella madia dell’anima, guardata fiorire sulle labbra di un altro, detta sottovoce, non gridata e affilata per ferire. Ma, ancor più insegnateci l’arte del silenzio, della luce che si poggia sul davanzale, del sole che sorge “come sposo che esce dalla stanza nuziale” o tramonta “nel cielo che tingi di fuoco”, della quiete della sera, della candela accesa che getta ombre sulle pareti del coro.

Raccontateci che è possibile attendere un abbraccio anche tutta una vita perché “c’è un tempo per abbracciare e un tempo per astenersi dagli abbracci” dice Qoelet. Il Presidente Conte ha detto che alla fine di questo tempo di pericolo e di restrizioni ci abbracceremo ancora nella festa, per voi ci sono ancora venti, trenta, quaranta anni da aspettare…

Educateci a fare le cose lentamente, con solennità, senza correre, facendo attenzione ai particolari perché ogni giorno è un miracolo, ogni incontro un dono, ogni passo un incedere nella sala del trono, il movimento di una danza o di una sinfonia.

Sussurrateci che è importante aspettare, rimandare un bacio, un dono, una carezza, una parola, perché l’attesa di una festa ne aumenta la luce e “il meglio deve ancora venire”.

Aiutateci a capire che un incidente può essere una grazia e un dispiacere può nascondere un dono, una partenza può accrescere l’affetto e una lontananza farci finalmente incontrare.

A voi, maestre e maestri della vita nascosta e felice, affidiamo il nostro disagio, le nostre paure, i nostri rimorsi, i nostri mancati appuntamenti con Dio che sempre ci attende, voi prendete tutto nella vostra preghiera e restituitecelo in gioia, in bouquet di fiori e giorni di pace. Amen

mons Aiello,
Vescovo di Avellino