LETTERS

LETTERS

The Miracle
of Change
Dear Fr. Eugenio: For the past five months, I have felt a moving and totally unexpected affection and attention toward me, both from those friends who knew of (and from those who only perceived) my uneasiness, and who discreetly stayed by my side. I felt it from you, through your availability and friendship, and from Carrón, through his embrace and the words he told me when I visited him at his house: “I am here, I am with you.” But something has struck me lately: all this was not enough! I was still sad, because the wound was still there. As far as the problem was concerned, absolutely nothing had changed. Sunday, when I got back from the Exercises, I had to face the usual scenario: my wife who would not smile at me because she wanted to make a big deal out of having to take care of the children for two days while I was away, as usual, and who started making everything heavy; me trying to tell her what I had seen and met, while her mind was elsewhere. The following day, I was back at square one, with the same tensions, the same silences, and the same resentments. Nevertheless, even if my circumstances, my wound, has remained the same, I cannot say that nothing in me has changed, because everything has indeed changed! Everything! I can’t get all that happened in Rimini out of my mind: from the most moving event with the Zerbinis, to the most ordinary, like eating some pastry with my friends. Such overabundance, such a miracle, such a fulfillment... Christ! He was in our midst, He was with us! A fact! He was a concrete fact–not a discourse–to which my heart fully adhered, because it was fully correspondent. He was physically there, through certain people, through my adhesion to certain gestures, in a specific place with specific faces. I literally felt like the one leper who went back to Jesus after being miraculously healed by Him. I was granted a miracle, too, the greatest of miracles: these days I am no longer looking at my bleeding wound, but at Him who gave it to me, and who alone can heal it. I can’t in all honesty say that I thank God for this open wound, but I am thankful for the presence of the “bandage,” that is, all those friends who are bearing witness to the fact that one can be happy even with a wound that keeps bleeding. Not that He wasn’t present in the past five months, but as far as I was concerned the only possible miracle–happiness– corresponded solely with the healing of my wound (this is the fruit of the separation between reason and experience). But, as you told me, He doesn’t give up, He patiently waits for you to engage your freedom... He did it with me at the Exercises. It is not possible to see Jesus, but it is possible to recognize Him, as I have experienced.
Name withheld

Learning a Gaze
“The method of faith,” says Fr. Carrón, “is to give precedence to what Christ does among us, before anything else.” From June 6 to June 8, 2008, 50 people from the new communities in the Southeastern United States came together for their second annual Fraternity Exercises, held this year at the Benedictine monastery of St. Bernard Abbey in Cullman, Alabama. Each of us arrived with our own problems and our own needs, trying to understand what Christ would tell us in these days together. An intense and dramatic assembly proved that we were all painfully aware of our inadequacies. How do I face my friends who do not know Christ? How do I and my wife heal from the pain of a miscarriage? How do I learn to see Christ in my wife and my companions? Carrón had said, “more than learning a discourse, we are learning a gaze,” a gaze we learn “by staying in front of the event, by giving precedence to what He is doing.” Like Peter, pulled from the water by Christ, we see that all we need to do is to look up and see that He is there. After returning home and sharing our judgments of the weekend, we realized that nothing is more true than this: seeing His presence among us is the only thing that gives an answer to our problems and provides certainty in our lives.
Jim, Atlanta, Georgia

Fraternal Friendship
Last year, I had to face a difficult trial. In August of 2006, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I had surgery, and then I underwent a few cycles of chemo and radiotherapy. Just like anybody else would have been in a similar circumstance, I was in shock. I felt lost and confused, unable to hold on to what I thought I knew, which was no longer of any use. I called Fr. Giuseppe with the attitude of a beggar, not knowing that the answer he would give me would become, for the following months, my main reason to live. He told me, “Christiane, you have to get well so that Christ can triumph through you, for yourself and for us all.” In that moment, I started to feel the importance of being faithful to School of Community. It was vital for me to attend the meetings with a sincere question for myself, and a deep desire for my life. This was the opportunity to face my uncertainties with a new gaze, with a new attitude, the kind of attitude you are forced to assume when you can no longer fool around. I discovered that what was true was becoming even truer, and what was important was becoming even more so. I needed to say “yes” to the circumstances, and recognize that everything was given to me, that there could be no separation within this everything, and that God alone knew my destiny. My Movement friends accompanied me very closely, and without them nothing would have been possible. Paula would often tell me: “You are not alone; we are with you.” My husband and my children recognized that my friends were there for them as well. Paula would often bring over cooked meals, and my daughter, opening the refrigerator, would exclaim: “Ah, your friend was here!” In this spontaneous affirmation, the very essence of the Fraternity can be found, and that is what allows me to believe and to hope–because I met something different.
Christiane, Montréal 

Credible Witness
Dear Father Carrón:
Recently, I had an experience that corresponded with the lesson on the credible witness in School of Community. Our dear friend, Father Vincent in Jordan, wrote to us about the hardships of families there who couldn’t afford to send their children back to the Catholic school. From this moment, the point on credible witness came alive for me. Father Vincent has always been a sign of Christ’s love for my husband and me. It could never be enough then for us to simply send a check. I began calling all my friends, Catholic or not, asking for their money. I would tell them that Father Vincent is my dear friend, and if he says the situation is so, then it is so. I have never been to Jordan, have not seen the suffering or met the mothers of these children, but he was my credible witness. Identifying him as such now meant I had to move, to obey and follow him in his desperation for these children. It was not enough to be emotionally moved by his plight, to tear up, and then go watch TV. No, being moved meant “moving.” I stayed up nights and changed my schedule, sending e-mails with my babies on my lap. I asked people repeatedly for their money, which was uncomfortable. I even asked for their friends’ money! There was a lot of work and a lot of rejection. However, these were four very happy weeks for me. In all this, because of what Fr. Giussani taught me, it became clear that Father Vincent’s request was a huge charity for me. School of Community came alive for me in my simple life at home with six children. I am the furthest thing from a fund raiser, and yet I ended up sending over $12,000 to the school. It was a miracle for me because I glimpsed what a credible witness means. It must imply moving in obedience and sacrifice, moving with all my “I.” Following this witness with my whole heart promises me a new heart, a changed heart. “Woman, I make all things new!” This really came true for me.
Tara Sareen, Boston

Becoming a Priest
Dearest Editors: I am nineteen years old and I am a youth ministry coordinator. In my region, there are more than 25 youth groups, each composed of an average of 30 to 60 members. I am asking for your prayers because next year I want to enter the seminary. I don’t want to be just another priest; I want to be a saintly one, following the example of Fr. Giussani. Here, Liberation Theology is very influential, and the consequences of this evil, together with the people’s thirst for God, cause many to lose their faith, because very often the priests focus their homilies on politics, and not on what is sacred. In my position within the youth environment, I see many wrongs, but this only motivates me to be a true disciple of Christ. It is so difficult to find defenders of the true faith in this crucial moment that we are living, and your magazine defends the Church tooth and nail. Working with young people is very difficult, because youth ministry doesn’t have many resources and the material that I receive comes from a youth center that is totally in line with the Liberation Theology approach. I accepted this charge because I think I can help the young, who are the future of the Church. During our formation meetings, I used the magazines that I received. When my life will come to an end, I will have to answer to God for the souls of the young people who participate in the youth ministry groups that I coordinate. I don’t want any of the souls in my charge to be lost in the error and vice that today’s world preaches. I know that Fr. Giussani’s love of young people was immense, and I want to pass on this love to our youth.
Name withheld, Brazil

A Complete
Change of Direction
Four months have gone by since the death of my son Francesco–not yet twenty–and my life has changed enormously. It underwent a complete change of direction. As I look at the blow-up picture on the wall, at his very beautiful and yet completely still smile, I often talk to You and it seems like You don’t answer me. On the contrary, You do answer, I only have to recognize the signs. My change is already a sign, as is the way it helped Elisabetta (Francesco’s older sister) in making the most important decision of her life, to get married. The love that we received from the friends in our community, from our colleagues, from my daughter’s fiancé (who was able to show me the affection and the love that I needed so much), from Maria (Francesco’s girlfriend), and from her parents, who call us and comfort us every day, is a sign as well. Now that a part of my heart is in Heaven with Francesco, it has become easier for me to recognize that Christ is all in everyone, and my days and my husband’s days are totally shaped by praying, starting with Morning Prayer, the daily Rosary, and Evening Prayer. Sometimes I ask: “What do You want from us now, Jesus?” We give all of ourselves, all of our days, all of our joys  (one can discover the possibility to experience joy again even after the death of a son); we give You our nostalgia, our sadness (not desperation) for Francesco who is no longer physically with us, but who supports and loves us even more than before. We entrust ourselves to Jesus and Mary, with the certainty that we are putting everything in good hands. We try to give witness to the great Love that we have received, even at the risk of being labeled as fools, since in today’s society giving witness to the love of a Man who died and rose from the dead 2,000 years ago for everybody’s sake is no longer fashionable. We need to say “yes” every day, even when we cling to the Cross of suffering, on account of a love that is greater than our sacrifice.
Milvia and Marcello, Bologna

Conversion
Dear Father Carrón:
I want to thank you for the miracle of my husband’s conversion. After many years,  he has returned to the sacraments.  This year, he had planned to attend the Young Workers Exercises and, when I got back from the Fraternity Exercises, I started a novena for him, so that he would start going to Confession and receiving Communion again. Watching those who were going to Confession in the meeting hall, I said to myself that he needed exactly that kind of embrace, one that I–his wife–could not give him. On Saturday, before leaving to go to the Exercises, my husband went to Confession, and the following day he received Communion. That day, we had a big fight and we were still mad at each other. When we went to church with the children to pray, he prayed with us, and when he saw the pastor he asked me, “Do you think he will be available for Confession if I ask him?” I simply said,  “Yes,” then I was overwhelmed by silence, awe, gratitude, and joy at the impact with the fact that I can be mad at my husband, but the Mystery still conquers all. I used to think that, in order to convince him, I needed to be a good CL member. We had gotten married after three years of cohabitation, because I had drifted away from the Church. But, with the help of a priest friend of ours, it later became clear that I needed to follow the Lord for my own sake, looking at my husband, loving his freedom, and begging to be able to look at him the way I was looked upon. I introduced him to those who look at me that way: all my friends. Today, his conversion is an invitation to my own conversion: he is the one who asks to say Evening Prayer together, to read School of Community, to talk about the meetings that I attend. I realize how much ungratefulness my heart is capable of, but at the same time I deny the mercy that surrounds me, and the voice of Christ who ceaselessly calls me to Him through my husband, my friends, and all the beautiful things He gives me. Unlike what I originally thought, I don’t need to be worthy, but I need to be able to tirelessly beg, and to start being thankful once again.
Name withheld

Attracted by Beauty
I want to tell you about my journey in search of myself. I remember the young kid who met an Italian guy. I remember the autumn of 1994. Those were tough years, and sometimes we would not have money for food. During math class, a foreigner–Fr. Edo–came in, proposing to teach Italian to us. In front of that proposal, that kid did one of the few right things he had done in his life: he accepted the proposal, and he started studying, and asking. Little by little, he became attached to a way of life that he had never seen before: having vacations where you don’t waste your time getting drunk or playing basketball; reading challenging texts; meeting other kids who were touched by the encounter with those strange Italians–all this opened up a new outlook on life. Why did this happen? It wasn’t for lack of company; he could have stayed with the kids of his neighborhood, drinking vodka and getting his fill of false joy (the kind that leaves you empty). But that kid had a desire for beauty, and within that friendship there was something unfathomable and attractive, something he couldn’t say “no” to, something that corresponded to the essential human needs of every man. That something filled his heart with a lasting joy, taught him how to truly live, and changed him. At first, he didn’t understand, then, growing up thanks to a concrete, beautiful, dramatic life and certain people, he learned to give a name to Him who came to meet him. He had encountered God, Christ. The first time that kid found himself in a situation that would have allowed him to understand why, he stopped on the threshold. He wasn’t ready. But God’s love for us is unimaginable. The simple fact of his being in this world, living such a full life (with all its sorrows, its true joy, sadness, and mistakes) was the sign of God’s love for him, because He willed him out of nothingness into being. God gave a second chance to that kid, now a man. God showed him His love by going back to him; He awakened him, and knocked at the door of his heart through the encounter and the dramatic relationship with a person. The 2007 Exercises (he didn’t want to go because of a prejudice) pushed him over the edge, when he heard Fr. Ambrogio saying: “Do we have the courage to accept the challenge? Will we run the risk and verify this promise? What is life for, if not to be given to a person? Either we remain neither here nor there…” At the beginning, he was saddened by that “neither here nor there” remark, which described him to a “T.” Then, after little reasoning and much observation, he told himself, “Not to accept Him, not to fully embrace Him, not to go to the depth, would be against what I have lived and live here and now.” So, he decided to do another one of those few good things that he had done in his life: he accepted Him. This is how this young man tries to live now, with the faith, hope, and love for Him whom he encountered–a faith, hope, and love that are rooted in the story he lived, in his present life, and in the hope that is thus generated.
Arman, Kazakhstan

The Mystery That Makes Everything
Dearest Julián:
Few years ago, you came to Bologna, and during an assembly you told me to entrust myself to Christ. You said this over and over. My husband is a non-believer, and the fact that he wasn’t encountering Christ through me was a source of great pain for me, and a source of concern for his happiness, and for the happiness of our children. I was still resisting Christ; I thought I was abandoning myself to Him just by recognizing Him, but ultimately my own actions would always prevail. I am always so busy! Slowly, through my Fraternity group, through the meetings with you and your constant reminders, His presence started to affect me, and I stopped focusing on what I had to do in order to convince my husband. I started to really desire for the Mystery to become present in my own life, and I started to look at those who already lived that way. I had a few very tough moments when I wouldn’t understand. At times, my anger or my disillusionment would prevail, but I did not give up. I started being more and more serious about School of Community, and this is now beginning to set the tone of my whole week. My day revolves around the page of School of Community that I read–this doesn’t take away the drama of my life, but accompanies me and makes gladness possible. It changes me. I now understand where my true desire is, and I started saying Morning Prayer every day. In October, my husband began attending School of Community, and he went to the Workers Exercises. I already thought that was miraculous in itself. Last Wednesday, he went to School of Community by himself, because I was on a school trip. Coming back home from the meeting, he wrote down on a piece of paper what he had been struck by, and he gave it to me to read. I was breathless. He wrote about seeing himself determined by his rationalistic mind-set, and about recognizing how, during all these years, I unhinged it through our discussions and my silent search for the Mystery in my daily life. He wrote of how this allowed a ray of light to penetrate, and of the change that he feels in himself. In his own words: “I know what to look for now: my simple self.” Now I just look at what happens, and I have you to thank for this. I don’t do anything; I don’t feel the need to do anything else but to look at the Mystery in action in my husband’s life, and to ask for that to happen to me, too.
Name withheld