LETTERS

LETTERS

MOVED BY THE
SADNESS OF ANOTHER
While selling Traces with a couple of friends during the GS [youth group] vacation, I met a Venetian painter. He immediately refused to buy the magazine, saying that he was a hard core Marxist, a philosophy scholar, and an atheist, and that he didn't want to have anything to do with ecstatic Christians such as the likes of us. My friend Domi tried to explain to him that Christ was a tangible experience to us; that He is a man in flesh and blood, not some kind of vision, and that our gladness was the consequence of the encounter with Him. He told us he completely disagreed: "I am a man filled with prejudice, and even if you were to tell me that what you met is for me, too, I could not believe you and, most of all, I would not be able to recognize Him. I am a sad man." I was moved; his sadness made me cry. But he was smiling. My friend Ceci asked him, "Would you be able to be moved like her?" He answered that it was just a matter of temperament, or that maybe I was in a state of ecstasy induced by my faith. I told him I wasn't crying because of a vision; I was crying for him. I asked his name. He answered, "Giuliano." I told him, "I will pray for you Giuliano, for real!" He smiled at us and left, saying, "You are young and full of life. I hope you will grow up." We were silent for a while. I was wounded and grateful at the same time. Father Carrón once said that the newness we carry doesn't leave anyone indifferent. Giuliano kept telling us he didn't believe in dialogue, yet he spent a good half hour talking to us. I don't know whether or not he thought about our encounter later on; maybe he has already forgotten about us. Yet, what moved me to the point of crying was the intuition that that man, that sad man, had something to do with my Destiny. I felt connected to him by a deep friendship, because it appeared clear that only Christ–Who is making my life bloom–was the answer to that old painter's sadness. I related the episode to a friend of mine and he said, "This is what gratuitous love for another person is. I assure you that Giuliano made you discover that heart of life."
Emanuela, Milan (Italy)

FINDING "HOME"
ACROSS THE OCEAN
Dear Fr. Julián: I study Architecture in Turin and in January I traveled to Troy, a small city three hours north of New York City, to work on my dissertation. Shortly after arriving in the U.S., I contacted my friends Pietro and Marta in New York to make arrangements to go visit them. They informed me that the New York Encounter was about to take place (see the article in this issue). I checked the website and noticed that you were scheduled to give a presentation on The Religious Sense that very Sunday, and I decided to come. As soon as I entered the midtown theater where the event was taking place, I was flabbergasted: I had crossed the ocean only to find myself in front of what I had left back in Italy. I immediately felt at home. When I had left Italy, I was uncertain if the experience and the friendships that I had started in Turin could possibly find some continuity overseas, but just a few days after my arrival I had been already abundantly reassured. It had become evident that I was going to be able to find in the U.S. everything that I had left in Italy. I think this is possible only in a companionship such as ours, where Christ is present. During my visit to the New York Encounter, I thought about many of my friends, and I couldn't wait to tell them what I had seen. That day, I often asked myself why I had decided to come to New York, since that had meant getting up at 5:30 the day after my taxing intercontinental flight. At the beginning, I thought it was just because I wanted to see my friends, which was true but it was not all. When I finally heard you speak about desire, I realized that what was moving me was indeed that desire for happiness and beauty present in each and every man, which you had already spoken about at the CLU Spiritual Exercises. The companionship that I came looking for even here in the U.S. is an answer to that desire. It is the same desire that makes me get up every day and that pushed me to travel thousands of miles far from home. I don't know what will happen in the next few months, and I don't even know how often I will manage to see Pietro and Marta or other CL people (New York City is the nearest community), but I am sure that everything I am looking for is already here, and that all I am asked for is to recognize the Presence of Christ in everything that happens–which is what I desire.
Stefano, Troy, NY (USA)

LAURA AND SISTER LORENZ: THE METHOD OF THE SIGN
Dear Fr. Julián: In October, I met Laura, who, for the past few years, has been a volunteer with the Missionaries of Charity (the order founded by Mother Theresa of Calcutta). Friday, she brought to School of Community two volunteers who, like her, give their time to serve the Sister's work. At the end of our meeting, they invited me to go meet the Mother Superior; so, on the following Sunday I went to their soup kitchen. As I entered the room, I was immediately struck by what I saw: about a hundred men, most of them in their fifties, were peacefully sitting, waiting for one of the volunteers to bring them their meal. I met Sister Lorenz in the kitchen. We began to talk and she came up with a proposal: she wanted a few of us to come to the soup kitchen to have School of Community. She told me, "We help these men, but we don't have a method like you do." She told me she had come to that realization observing the change in Laura's gaze–a change that had taken place after she started attending School of Community. For that reason, she was inviting all the volunteers working there to attend School of Community. I was struck by the method she followed, the method of the sign: looking at Laura, Sister Lorenz asked herself what it was that Laura met, what happened–something that went beyond the need for food or drink of the poor men she served. Sister Lorenz knows the Movement only for what Laura told her, but we will send her Traces from now on. I don't know what the future will bring, but it is evident that if we are aware of Christ's embrace, we can enter any environment–whether filled with homeless people or millionaires–and have the same "claim," that Christ is the salvation of the world. It doesn't make a difference whether I stand in front of CEOs or these disenfranchised men; what interests me in the other person is something that comes before, that is, that which his heart is made of, and his happiness–which coincides with mine. This is because God's interest in me is something that comes before; He wants me, He wants my happiness.
Claudio, Milan (Italy)

THE ETERNAL TENDERNESS OF THE COMPANIONSHIP
D ­­ear Fr. Carrón: I am 22 years old. I want to recount a fact that is emblematic of what struck me in the chapter on virginity [in Is It Possible to Live This Way, Vol. 3: Charity by Luigi Giussani]. During my third year of high school, my classmate Emilia had to drop out because of her drug addiction. After a while, we found out that her parents had taken her to the Comunità Cenacolo (the Last Supper Community) founded by Mother Elvira, a nun who helps drug addicts recover without the use of medications. She relies on what she calls "Christ-therapy;"–that is, a life based on prayer, work, and community. Five years later–three of which were spent in the Community, and two working as a missionary–Emilia returned to Pavia, and last Monday she gave a witness about her recovery and conversion. Seeing her again was incredible. All the images I had in my mind vanished as I listened to her speak; she was a new person. I was moved, and I asked, "Who are You to change a person to this extent? Who are You who move me to the point of making my heart burst?" After the meeting, I went to speak to Emilia and I felt a surprising familiarity and friendship between us. A relationship like that, a sincerity like that, could not be explained or even possible if not on account of the same Destiny that was taking hold of both our lives in that moment. If I had to describe the hundredfold, I would use Father Giussani's words: "…this foretaste, in the relationship I have with you–even though I've seen you only once, this foretaste present in the relationship with you as I will see you in the clarity of the eternal…." The following day, my thesis professor told me that I needed to rework a section of my dissertation–which I had thought I was done with. My immediate reaction for such occurrences is usually disappointment, and mostly a strong and proud resentment for having being corrected. That day, though, I couldn't have cared less; I would have gladly re-written the entire dissertation, because my eyes were still filled with the encounter of the previous night. I had experienced an embrace so true and tender that I couldn't be afraid anymore. At School of Community you said, "Virginity is the victory over dualism because it makes us be our true selves, and so it is not a problem that concerns only a certain kind of vocation. Who doesn't want to be his true self? Who doesn't desire not to lose his heart?...Virginity is the ultimate confirmation of the truth of the fact of faith, of the truth of that Presence in history."
Sara, Pavia (Italy)

Pedal to the Metal
I just received the issue of Traces entitled "The Force of Desire." Lately, I have noticed how much you have been stressing this topic of desire. You once said that man's greatness corresponds to the greatness of his desire. I will give you an idea of how this translates to my life: it is as if everything, every circumstance that I face, has a gas pedal beside it, which is the question: "What do you want? What do you desire in this?" Asking myself this question is tantamount to putting "the pedal to the metal," thus reaching the meaning of the various moments and details of my life. I will not deny that my husband's absence make me suffer acutely (maybe I would be in less pain if I banged my head on the wall all day long), yet, far from generating disappointment and desperation, the question, "What do you want; what do you desire in missing him?" opens me up to the curiosity to see the face of the One Whom I desire, and Who reveals to me the truth of everything through which I beg for Him. It was while my husband was still alive that I understood that he could not fulfill the desire of my heart; not because of his shortcomings, but precisely on account of the Greatness that he pointed out for me, thus introducing me to and supporting me in dealing with the only great desire of life. Our relationship was characterized by an array of limitations, big and small; yet, its greatness lay in the absence of the illusion that we could fulfill each other. I now remain in the company of my desire for Him, and of those who share that same desire.
Emilia, Italy

"THAT'S WHAT I WANT FOR MYSELF"
Dear Father Carrón: During the challenging and fascinating time I spent working on my dissertation, I asked myself many questions. Whenever you are forced to make important decisions, what defines you acquires a fundamental role; it's either the logic of the world or sharing the "thoughts of Christ." The Religious Sense presentation shed some light on the matter. Lately, I have been involved in several discussions among friends on the topic of work. Many of my friends who either have a job or are looking for one, are constantly complaining about their situations, and seem to consider money and career as their only criteria. I felt there was something off with those conversations; namely, it seemed that the decision-making process was unaffected by the judgment generated by the Christian experience. In the past months, I have been moved by how, even though the world seemed to be conspiring against me, reality has always offered something greater–from my friend Marta's death to the possibility of participating in the Cairo Meeting; from the encounters with certain people to the impressiveness of what I was studying. Reality in its entirety was crying out with the magnitude of my desire for fulfillment and happiness, to which only God can respond. While many urged me to look at my life by focusing on what I needed to do, others were pushing me to ask myself: "What fulfills me?" You once said that we can affirm the truths of our faith and not be the protagonists of history. I don't want this for myself.
Maristella, Catania (Italy)

WHAT IS OUR CHILDREN'S REAL GOOD?
Dear Fr. Carrón: It's Sunday, and after spending a beautiful vacation at grandpa and grandma's, we are getting ready to go back to our daily life; I am preparing for work, the girls are finishing their homework, and my wife is straightening out the house. Our little one–three years old–is with his father, whom he has not seen in a week. He joined our family when he was just a few days old, and is still with us as a foster child. His mother is not well and his father can't take care of him because of his work. The economic crisis only complicated matters. I have often thought about the last School of Community meeting and your provocations. That father and his drama…What is the true good for our children? And your answer. The following day, trying to maintain a position of openness, I started thinking about him, the father of our little one. They are now back from their visit, both sporting a big smile. The father, with the usual discretion, said goodbye and went back to his house alone, in silence, carrying with him the burden of this painful situation, as he has always done. He has agreed to stay for dinner only a handful of times. His son will see him again in a few days, for about an hour. Sometimes, when his dad arrives, our little one wants to keep playing with his sisters in their room; his father patiently waits for him in the living room. He has been doing this for the past three years; he has been constant, attentive toward our family and our schedule, never complaining, and never begrudging us anything, not even our privileged life. How can a man be this way? It all became clear one day, when my wife voiced her concernes about his unstable job situation and the disappearing possibility of being reunited with his son; he consoled her saying that at the moment his son's good was to remain with us.
Nicola, Verona (Italy)

FORCED TO DEAL WITH THE EVENT
Dear Fr. Julián: I want to tell you about an event that documents what you wrote in the Christmas article, particularly this passage: "…people who reawaken in you such an interest and attraction that you are forced to deal with what has happened to you" (Julián Carrón, "The Miracle We All Await," Traces, No.1 - Vol. 13, 2001). Wednesday night, a girl named Florence came to our School of Community. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn't really put my finger on her. The person who was leading the meeting asked her to introduce herself, and she said, "I met the Movement ten years ago, at the Sorbonne. For a while, I attended the School of Community meetings of a group of Italian students of the Erasmus project. At the end of that year, when they went back to Italy, I left. I stopped showing up. Last summer, I was invited to Violaine and Michele's wedding and I re-encountered some of my old friends. The time we spent together awoke a question in me: 'When, in my life, have I been happy to live my faith?' My mind immediately rushed back to the period when I was attending School of Community, and to those friends. For this reason, I have come back. I am here to have an experience of faith and to be happy." After she spoke, I asked myself, "How can a person who has not seen us or heard from us in ten years come back? What did she meet and see, that had the power to make her come back?" I finally remembered her face and the haphazard group of students she had met back then. I want to keep these questions open because, amid many other questions, they represent the reality that most interests me about the experience of the Movement at this time. That quote from your article is the only adequate comment, because it describes the Event that happened.
Silvio, Paris (France)