Letters

THE FIRST budS
OF A NEW CULTURE
Dear Julián: I want to tell you what the Advent retreat has brought about. Working on the Fraternity Retreat lesson helped me become more aware of how faith generates knowledge, thus allowing me to break free from confusion. We remembered your insistence on the fact that the witness is not enough if those who receive the testimony reduce it to mere impact, that is, if those who see and listen don’t turn it into something personal, making it their own. Since last summer, I have felt the urgency to understand how the new creature comes about. It is urgent for us to understand this, so as to live outside the boundary of the simple repetition of a discourse, or of the commiseration for our own mental distraction–both leaving us chained to what is foreseeable, and to a limitation that we endure with resignation. It is urgent to be able to benefit from reality’s provocations. What surprises us about the witness? What strike us are precisely an intelligence and an affection that are different, of another nature, in regard to the things we habitually deal with; in regard to situations that interest us and provoke us because we don’t feel at ease in them, because they don’t respond the way we expect. The witness understands them and faces them in a different way. The flyer on the crucifix [being banned from Italian classrooms] constitutes a recent example. I was interested in the issue and I said beautiful and right things about it, but the flyer showed me what I could not see: everybody talked about the crucifix, but nobody mentioned what is evident, that is, that the issue is about the living Christ, alive here and now. This kind of intelligence is a miracle; it can’t be explained as the consequence of preceding phenomena. It is an invitation to faith, intended as intelligence of reality, intelligence of experience. Nobody would have the intelligence to point out that the crucifix problem is that of Christ alive and present, if not based on the miracle of Christ alive and present. In the past weeks, I have felt a growing need to see “new creatures” in action and, putting aside all generic and vague considerations, to accept the different way they relate to reality, a way that implies a reason more open and ready to face concrete problems with a creativity, a patience, and a charity that are generated by the journey of faith. The other night, I was at the house of a friend for dinner. Despite a long series of trials, his heart has not lost even a millimeter of that openness that, for the past 40 years, has led him to embrace literally the whole world in an inexplicable way. But let me get to what I really wanted to tell you. The retreat and the last contributions made me understand again that faith, as the intelligence of reality that you see in others, does not became your stable forma mentis (mindset) unless you start applying it first and foremost to those specific issues that you feel most urgent, and unless you realize and, as a consequence, carefully take notice of how this generates an answer that is more correspondent than the one provided by the culture you have inherited–precisely as Father Giussani pointed out in The Journey to Truth is an Experience (when talking about the verification process). This is how I have seen the first buds of a new culture in me, with the steps taken starting from the work of School of Community, from the flyers about abortion, about the crucifix, and from the judgment on politics and on charitable work. It is slow work, similar to the struggle to learn a new language; you need to keep practicing in order to set a new syntax and a new way to name things. The knowledge of the language you are learning solidifies when you are the one who, like a pioneer, names things using a new grammar and a new lexicon, while somebody else corrects your mistakes, and you have the humility to repeat the correct sentence. You will be creative in your faith in as much as your verification process has gone to this depth, in as much as it has become awareness, leaving nothing out.
Fernando, Madrid (Spain)

WHEN BEING A “GOOD
GIRL” IS NOT ENOUGH
Dear Father Carrón: I have always been the proverbial “good girl,” the one who graduates from medical school summa cum laude, and knows what she wants out of life. Through the years, I had to face various family problems, which led me to think of myself as a “seasoned” woman. Since this past summer, I have experienced a complete collapse that, for the first time, did not involve somebody else; it involved me. I began specialty rotation and I started working night shifts and weekends; my mother’s condition got more complicated; and I broke up with my boyfriend, in whom I had placed my hope for the resolution of my problems. I, the one who was always able to react, and the one who could always come up with good advice… I found myself sinking in quicksand. This is what my life has been for the past few months:  I wasn’t able to get out of bed in the morning or to accomplish anything during the day; I was withdrawing from my relationships and I was unable to make even the most banal decision. I wasn’t myself anymore. My Fraternity friends, as well as other friends who are as faithful as siblings, and my roommates didn’t give up on me. With incredible patience and motherliness, they endured my temper tantrums, my silences on the phone, and my paralyzing doubts. Yet, the witness alone is not enough. I needed to start anew, but I didn’t know where to start. When everything around you falls apart, when even the image that you have always had of yourself falls apart, what do you cling to? One night, while I was at the hospital for my shift, a dear friend of mine called and read for me the lyrics of the song “Il mio Volto” (“My Face”). Those words were the description of that very moment: “Only when I realize that You exist do I hear my voice again–like an echo–and I’m born again.” To be born again: this is what I wholeheartedly desired. Yet, starting anew wasn’t easy. It took me two months of struggle and daily defeats, but certain sentences, heard at different times of my life, kept relentlessly popping up in my head: “Without Me you can do nothing;”  “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you”.  This is the judgment that, little by little, grew inside me.  There is Another who wills me into being now, and makes me in every instant. Starting anew from this judgment has been a grace, because when you realize that not only are you unable to keep the world, your sick mother, and your boyfriend together, but you can’t even keep yourself together, and you can’t but cling to Him, who made you and still makes you now. In the past two weeks, I truly experienced the re-birth of my “I.” This re-birth does not coincide with my newfound energy, or with the fact that I do lots of things. What matters is not the amount of things you do, but Who you do them for. This is what I beg for every morning.
Name withheld

CAN I STILL BE HAPPY?
Dearest Father Carrón: While volunteering for the Food Bank, my friend Simona and I came across a 65-year-old man, mad at the world. He did not trust us and didn’t want to contribute to the cause, because he thought that the State should be taking care of the problem, not him, a poor man overwhelmed with problems and living on a tiny social security check. He was in search of somebody who could help him with housework. I told him that I, a university student, could find the right person for him. To tell the truth, that was a little bit of an excuse. Certainly, I intended to do what he was asking me, but his loneliness was so evident that the reason I asked for his phone number was my desire to let him know that reality is not horrible, and that his needs for justice and love have an answer: Christ present–the only reason why that morning at 8:00 am I was there at that supermarket. He gave me his number and left. After a couple of minutes, he came back and asked us, “Where can I find you, if I want to?” I told him that I wanted to explain to him the origin of our friendship, and I invited him to go out for a smoke. He told me he had been sick with depression for the past 35 years, since his father’s death. He had later lost his mother and sister, too. He had then felt completely empty and had wished to die, because nobody loved him anymore. He added, “I have nephews and nieces who come to visit me, inquire about my health, and tell me to become active, but I don’t have a reason to do so. On top of that, they don’t speak like you.” I told him, “I am not a better or wiser person than your nephews and nieces; the difference is the Christian experience I live. One can freely give his life for another only when one is happy.” He replied, “Maybe I have never come across anybody who was really happy. You are young, though. I have believed in the Gospel, when it says, ‘Ask and you shall receive,’  but the more I asked the more sorrows I received.” He thought mine was the enthusiasm of youth. I told him about my experience, of how, at a certain point in my life, I met people who lived in a more dignified and beautiful way, and of how I started following them. He pressed on, “Do you think there is hope for me, too? Can I still be happy, at my age? If, indeed, there are people like the ones you describe, how can I recognize them? I guess they don’t walk around with a sign hanging from their necks!” I tried to tell him how simple perceiving the truth of something and wanting it for himself could be. In reality, I was just describing what was already happening. At a certain point, he told me, “How could I know that this morning I would encounter you?” I replied, “It doesn’t end today. I would like to come visit you with my friends.” The only words that he was able to form were: “Thank you for your presence. Go, go back to your friends; I understand now that you have something important to do.” Father Giussani says that boldness is born out of the grace of a Presence, like somebody who is behind you and drives you on. That’s exactly what happened.
Claudia (Italy)

A SPECIAL CELEBRATION
FOR JUAN IGNACIO
When we got to Santiago Del Chile coming from Temuco (a town located 500 miles to the south of our home) because our third son, Juan Ignacio, suffering from cystic fibrosis, needed medical attention, I realized that despite all the difficulties we went through, our life had been deeply changed. It had been changed because we have been embraced by our friends in a different way. Our son’s illness is serious and requires costly treatments, and we are not able to cover all the expenses. Juan Ignacio is now two and a half, and just lately a new need has been awoken in us–for our family and friends–touching hearts and setting in motion the most important engine. Our friends supported us and together we decided to promote an event to help fund the treatments. We came up with the idea of organizing a fund-raising dinner. What happened next was a real miracle: many people felt their involvement in the project and worked hard so that the dinner could meet its goal.  Many people told me, “It’s wonderful! One can see the care you took to make everything beautiful and well organized.” One of the most surprising things is that all the necessary materials, as well as the labor, were offered for free. This means that, on top of reaching for their wallets to pay for dinner, all gave time, work, and visits to various institutions to find what was needed. During Juan Ignacio’s last stay at the hospital, our friends organized a prayer group, asking Father Giussani to intercede for the miracle of healing. All these meaningful gestures make of the companionship a place where your friends embrace you, where the Movement becomes experience, concrete faces in which we re-affirm our “yes.” Living Juanito’s illness by sharing it with my friends allows me to be ever more aware of Christ among us. I could withdraw into my sorrow, my sadness, and the bitterness of the daily question: why me? On the contrary, I now ask: why? As I said on the night of the dinner, “Friends, when the heart is moved, we start walking, people start walking. This is what Juan Ignacio provoked in us, making us look at Christ present among us through the help and the love that has been offered to us today.
Viviana, Santiago De Chile

THROUGH CIRCUMSTANCES A KNOWLEDGE  THAT LASTS
Since October 4th, I have been on a medical leave of absence from my position as a high school science teacher, due to unexplained tremors and memory lapses. I won’t pretend these days haven’t been emotional–you should have seen me say goodbye to my kids and pack up my stuff! Still, I can’t think of a single emotion that has ever stayed with me. What has stayed is the conviction that Jesus of Nazareth is the life of my life, a conviction that has grown over time. How did I get here?  Memory–hundreds of thousands of times when I said, “It’s You!” All of these are not only remembrances of past events, but events that I carry, that change me bit by bit.  Just as when I watch my own child grow day by day, I am one day surprised when that pair of jeans no longer fits. Just so, I am one day surprised to see that I’ve grown.  Jesus is more familiar to me, and so I recognize Him more quickly. A coworker once mentioned in conversation, “At least you have your faith to get you through this.” I replied, “I have no intention of ‘getting through it;’ I plan on living during it. This is not a tragedy; my happiness does not depend on the circumstances, but on the Presence of Christ.” Once again, I was surprised at the change in me. A great grace has been given me so that I’m not even tempted to mistake anger, grief, or even fear for lack of faith and hope. I am extremely grateful for all the love and prayers from my family, friends, and those around me; because of you, His Face is ever clearer to me despite difficult and sad circumstances. This path is a path full of gladness because my need for life, for meaning, for love bursts forth so painfully when my hand trembles too much to complete a physical task, or when my mind is too muddled to work on a mental task. The day I was not steady enough to bring a spoon full of soup to my mouth (it kept coming up empty), I looked up and there was Mel, not ignoring it, not making a big deal of it, but looking at me with such love–such love in response to such embarrassing weakness. My need bursts forth, and there He is, so clearly answering that need without taking away the circumstances. As my health returns, I am certain that this journey is not merely an insight that will fade. Through this experience, I have grown and gained a knowledge that lasts.
Bea Wicker, Clearwater, MN (USA)

The ant, the elephant, and  the fullness of the heart
Last Saturday marked the first ever Communion and Liberation Retreat in Utah, which built on the Fraternity’s Spiritual Exercises, “From Faith, the Method.” I was powerfully reminded that my encounter with Christ is not merely an idea. It is a fact, an event that not only happens in history, but in my history. My on-going encounter with Christ is always more than I can express, will always be more than I can ever express, whether in a given moment or over the entire course of my life. As Fr. Erik told us, when it comes to the mystery of Christ, I am always an ant looking an elephant, but even what I see from my limited perspective is glorious, awful at times and awe-inspiring at others, but no less glorious for all that. My inability to express the fullness of my heart is what has kept me from posting on my blog this week. Like Mary, I am trying to “treasure all these things, pondering them in [my] heart.”
Deacon Scott Dodge, Bountiful, Utah (USA)