LETTERS
Edited by Paola Bergamini. E-mail: pberga@tracce.it

“Who can bring
justice to my people?”
Dear Fr. Carrón: I am very grateful for the work of last year and for the many friends whom God is giving me. On Christmas day, two bombings occurred in two churches in Nigeria that claimed the lives of innocent souls. Twenty bomb explosions occurred that have claimed the lives of over 100 people in northern Nigeria [see the article on page 16]. The immediate reaction of me and my friends is to condemn our President for not doing enough to provide security for the Nigerian people. But reading and reflecting on the need for justice in Chapter 11 of the Religious Sense, I have now realized that I cannot stop there. Even if the government were to arrest the perpetrators of these incidents, it still wouldn’t be enough. What about the innocent souls that lost their lives? Who will do justice for them? What about their loved ones whom they have left behind? What about me? What can I do in the face of such evil? I am powerless in front of this tragedy. This leaves me no other choice but to cry out to God. Only He can render true justice. “Life is made up of a fabric of interwoven needs.” Those words are so true for me today. Just taking a look at my everyday life, I have discovered that I have so many needs–e.g., the desire for career success, the desire to meet my lifetime partner, the desire for better governance, better security, stable electric power, etc. All this is proof that I lack something. What I truly lack is the presence of God. So, as a consequence, I have started begging for Christ’s presence every day,that He accompany me in all I set out to do. Doing the work of the Beginning Day theme has helped me discover the wonder of my being. Seeing God at work in the ordinary events of life for me is a confirmation that God is making me now and, as a result, reality is always positive. In the face of the worsening political and economic conditions of my country, this is what I need to stay in front of–reality–without suffocating. My desire this year is to live more intensely the consciousness of the One who is making me now. This is the only true contribution I can give to my family, friends, and my nation at large.
Nyemike, Lagos (Nigeria)

My father too is
beyond my measure
On December 31st, I received a call from my father announcing that he would be coming that same day to have lunch with me and my brothers. I see him just a few times a year, because he works far away and is separated from my mother. My father is a Protestant. According to the usual trajectory of his visits, he would talk about what Catholicism is or should be doing, resulting in quite an abstract conversation between two opposite sides. One of my brothers would defend the Catholic position, and the rest of us would just sit and observe. This dynamic has never allowed me to be happy whenever my father came to visit. As expected, on the 31st we were all there–including my mother–and the usual conversation between my father and my brother began. At a certain point, I received a phone call from a friend in my School of Community group. I told him about my struggle, and what was going on, and he told me: “Look at your father with the eyes of God. Don’t put yourself in between, and trust in Him completely.” After about one hour, the conversation shifted to the issue of power. I thought to myself: “I learned about this in School of Community.” I decided to say something, overcoming my fear of what they would all think. Because of this move of mine, my mother and the rest of my brothers got involved in the conversation, which became more interesting. We ended up focusing on the human person, and we shared a moment of real family communion. I understood what Father Giussani means when he says that a true question always implies the hypothesis that a positive answer exists. In risking myself in the search for that positive answer, I realized that I am not the one making reality, and that through the giving of myself, Another moves and works within reality. Later on, we talked about prayer, and once more we found ourselves on the slippery slope of abstraction. Then I took a further step and I proposed that we pray together. After the initial embarrassment, my family accepted and we found ourselves praying and singing together. My father stayed longer than usual, and when he left we embraced as we had never done before. He wasn’t the father I was so prejudiced against anymore; at last I was embracing my father and His Creator.
Nataly, Lima (Peru)

GRASPED FOR ETERNITY BY
THE ONE WHO MADE HER
Upon the death of a young parishioner, Shannon O’Hara, after a nine-month battle with cancer, the pastor, Fr. Jerry Mahon, wrote the following words for the community of his parish.
Our St. John the Evangelist Community and the larger community of Rochester together with other pieces and places of the world, have been deeply moved, educated, challenged, and embraced by the manner of being real that has dominated the past nine months of the O’Hara family. There is no lesson plan for receiving the news of an inoperable cancerous brain tumor, and what that entails: treatment, decisions, and the ultimate call for a dwelling place in eternity that is home forever. “Shannon the Cannon” led us with her positive energy in front of reality, as there were no games being played about her way to meet truth, but she knew how to play the games of golf, soccer and especially hockey in an extraordinary way. The depth of being real in the face of such drama has been an education for all of us and her family who followed the bright-eyed, enthusiastic “saint of the day,” and she led us to look at every instant of being alive as a potential surprise. Dan and Jen gave us a meditation through their writing and living that changed us and allowed us to be wounded by love. This is a wound that opens our hearts as eternity becomes more familiar. Shannon became a new creature through the waters of Baptism on June 27, 1999, and belonged to Christ who had grasped her for eternity. Circumstances can be perceived and lived as against you, but Shannon knew reality to be her friend, and this gave such meaning to her life. Obviously, she lived this truth before the brain tumor, but it all became more evident as this 13-year-old fire ball allowed her “I” to search for the Infinite and to become the presence of Christ on and off the rink. None of us gives ourselves life, but we can acknowledge that He who gives us life can give it back to us for eternity. Shannon lives forever: “Let the children come to me; do not prevent them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these. Amen, I say to you, whoever does not accept the Kingdom of God like a child will not enter it.” The starting point for us is to acknowledge that we do not give ourselves life; a child knows this with a simplicity that shakes our foundation of being self-made. Our faith is more than a consolation, but a way of being that allows for anger, grief, pain, sadness, and then an open heart that is surprised by the One who made us and is making us at this very moment. Wonder is possible in front of every level and kind of reality for those who search for a Presence in what is present.
Jerry Mahon, Rochester (USA)

Inviting the
professor next door
Dear Julián: Last year, I attended a class for my Architecture studies, taught by a very good professor. During one of his lessons, as he was talking about some of his works, I became very interested in his approach to architecture. He always kept man in mind, building structures capable of accommodating life, instead of beautiful, albeit non-functional, boxes. This year, I met him again. When the flyer about the crisis came out, we requested a meeting with him. When he read it and saw it was from Communion and Liberation, he asked us who we were. He wanted to know if we were the students who used to get together to pray, and if we had a meeting room. We confirmed it was us, and that we always reserved a classroom for School of Community. He told us that the previous year his room was next to ours, and that he always waited for 1 pm to hear us sing. I noticed he was curious about us. During a meeting with the administration, which we attended, the professor proposed a few possible didactic changes. He had an all-encompassing gaze, and he was able to take into consideration all the factors at play–unlike other professors, who only cared about their own interests. We decided to invite him to the party for the AVSI fund-raising tents that would take place two days later. He came, and when I saw him in the crowd sipping some spiced wine, I went to greet him and show him the exhibit that we, the architecture students, had put together. He told us about one of his former students who later became a colleague and friend of his, working in his firm for four years. He told us: “He was a very brilliant young man who, just like you, was always involved in these kinds of initiatives. To give you an example, last summer he was in Madrid to prepare for World Youth Day with the Pope. In September, he gave me a letter, which read: ‘Dearest, I am switching jobs. I will work for an architect who is more important than you, and who has a better curriculum. He has something to do with the world and the universe. I will enter the seminary.’” As he was speaking, we could clearly see how proud he was of that young man, and of having an architect friend in the seminary. He added: “There was nothing jarring about his decision. Just like someone who loves the sea might decide to become a scuba-diver, he decided to give his life to God.” Because of all these facts, I decided to invite the professor to our study vacation. I called him on January 1st to ask him to join us on the 7th. He accepted, telling me that he would make arrangements to come. He came, and kept asking us about our other initiatives during the year, beyond that vacation, and how many of us were present at his university... After spending the night telling us about himself, he said that he had done some research, and that he knew that in CL we sing a lot. Therefore, he refused to go to bed unless we spent some time singing. At the beginning, he just listened; later on, as soon as he was given a song book, he was in the forefront, proposing and starting songs. I have always lived in a sheltered environment, but now I have experienced the beauty of discovering myself free and certain in front of the world. How beautiful it is to see myself involved in this work of verification of the faith, feeling the urge to keep at it.
Susanna (Italy)

finding freedom in studying
Last summer, I took a World History class at school that really changed the way I have studied ever since. On one specific day in class, we had to turn in a rough draft for a grade. I failed to submit it because I got confused about the due date. At that point my grade in the class was an “F.” I spoke to several people throughout the day, and nothing that anyone said could make me stop crying. That is, of course, until I got to School of Community that night. I shared my experience and that moment became a turning point. Fr. Luis just asked me, “Whom do you follow?” I immediately responded to this question by telling him of someone whom I trust very much and do want to follow. The fall semester commenced shortly thereafter. I was more focused on the things that I really needed because the way that I was studying before wasn’t enough for me.The first proof of this being the ultimate truth in my life was when I got 100% on my first midterm, but the glory of this story isn’t about the grade. I was surprised by this beautiful novelty that had been introduced in my life. As the end of the semester drew near with finals week, everyone was counting down the days until the end of exams for “freedom” to arrive, as if we needed reality to be different to experience true freedom.
Melissa Font, Florida (USA)

“I felt an outsider, then I realized What I am looking for”
For the first two years of college I joined several clubs and organizations, but something was missing. Then a year ago a friend invited me to CLU, and I realized that I was really in a place where I could say I belong. As a volunteer at the New York Encounter this year, I began with this need to verify that I belong and that I am loved. On the first evening, as everyone was arriving at the Manhattan Center I began to feel like an outsider. I thought, “Maybe I don’t belong here.” But if this was true, how would CL be different from any other social club? As the weekend progressed the answer became clear. I began to engage with my fellow volunteers. Immediately, we shared something in common through our openness of experience. While I was greeting people as an usher on Sunday afternoon, one man said “hello” and started to engage in conversation with me. Despite being complete strangers, we spoke for 30 minutes and I shared more with him than I have shared with many people in my life. It was so clear that it was not me who was making anything happen, but that it was someone else. Through these conversations that were given to me, I had an unexpected certainty that these people cared about me and loved me. Toward the end of the weekend, my question became not “Do I belong?”, as it had been for the last year, but “Is this what I’ve been looking for?” Fr. Carrón was talking about the disciples’ initial reaction when they encountered Christ. They did not realize they were searching for anything until they saw something in the person of Christ so exceptional that they left everything and followed him. I cannot deny the exceptionality of what I have encountered, not because I feel like I belong to a great group of people, but because I have had an encounter with Christ.
Chad Miller, Saint Paul (USA)

The joy of a thankful heart. Dear Friends: I am so grateful to have been able to volunteer at the New York Encounter, because through this work I was able to help make Christ present to New York Encounter and also to myself, not abstractly, but truly, because I was changed. I came to the NYE feeling dead and now instead I feel alive, and filled with joy which I want to take with me into my next semester. This was possible because of what I experienced at the New York Encounter. So thank you for letting me be a part of this, because it’s something I need and it was incredibly beautiful to give my time to it.
Nicholas Erickson, Ewing, NJ (USA)

Five hundred euros to help one of us
On Christmas Day, I received greetings from one of my colleagues. I sensed that he wasn’t very happy, so I asked how he was doing. He broke down in tears. He desperately needed to find 500 euros, to avoid jail time for a serious ordeal he had gotten himself into in 2007. I spoke about it with my parents and we decided to give him the sum he needed–I gave 300 euros, and my parents contributed the remaining 200. This morning I met him and we talked for a while. He was crying. I didn’t know what to say, because his situation is really difficult; he doesn’t have any friends because he works nights, he spends his mornings taking care of his sick sister, and he sleeps in the afternoon. Everything is on his shoulders. At a certain point, I asked him the same question that a dear friend of mine asked me the first time we met: “Do you believe in God?” He said he did, and started crying again. The only thing I added was: “It is true that we are not the masters of our lives. We can delude ourselves as long as we want, but sooner or later reality tells us that is not so. When you are drowning, you have to cry for help and grab the hand that somebody stretches out. Don’t worry about the money; you’ll give it back when you can.” I realize that we, Christians, are men; weak, inadequate, and always needy. Then, what is it that allows us to stay close to those who suffer? It is only because of the unwavering “hidden companionship” of God. My family and I are not rich; we save on everything, especially given the current financial crisis. Yet, we couldn’t remain indifferent to my colleague’s situation. We felt totally involved. He was one of us.
Giovanni, Bologna (Italy)