CL LIFE THE DUBLIN EXHIBITION

TIBERIAS, IRELAND

Eight thousand people lined up to get into the exhibition. It was the scene of unexpected meetings and people moved because "we have seen the Gospel." At first, it seemed crazy to take that piece of the Rimini Meeting to the Dublin Eucharistic Congress. What happened in these past months to those who got to work organizing it? Here is the answer.

BY PAOLA BERGAMINI

In Ireland, there is the sky, the green, the brick-faced terraced houses, all with different colored doors; there is Trinity College, the pubs, Guinness. In 24 hours in Dublin, I saw much more, something that takes root in your heart, a presence that overwhelms life, just as it did for the Apostles, who ate with Him, discussed with Him, drew in the nets with Him. It happened again, for Owen, Mauro, Margaret, and John, and for the entire small Irish community, first in the decision, then in the preparation, and then at the exhibition, “With the Eyes of the Apostles,” which came from the 2011 Rimini Meeting and went on display again during the Eucharistic Congress (June 10-17) in the Irish capital.
Madness, someone said, but the Lord writes straight on our crooked lines. As they recounted these months of “madness,” I touched once again the beauty of the Christian adventure.

Something more. In August, in the pavilion at Rimini where the exhibition was on display, John Waters stood motionless, staring at a photo of the Lake of Tiberias. “I am looking at what Jesus saw; time and space no longer exist.” Then came the decision: “We have to take this exhibition to Dublin for the Eucharistic Congress. The Irish need a Fact, that Event.” He spoke of it with Mauro, Margaret, Owen, and their other friends. They said, “Yes,” without imagining what they were taking on. They followed the intuition of a friend who had seen Something more. This was the first miracle. Then, at the end of September, they met those in charge of the Eucharistic Congress who were immediately open to the idea.
In November, they went to Como, Italy, to see Erasmo Figini, one of those who prepared the exhibition. He tried to dissuade them: “There’s nothing left of the exhibition. The costs are enormous. But, if you like, there is a reduced version on panels.” Massimo was adamant: “It’s not the same thing.” Then, for the rest of the day, they spoke of other things–about their life, about Ireland. When they left, they were even more determined to do it. Mauro spoke of the idea to Fr. Julián Carrón, who said, simply, “Follow the signs that the Lord gives you.”
The first problem to face was funding. This was not the usual collection of funds for the missions, but for “building Peter’s house”–as the exhibit replicates Capernaum. Owen didn’t think twice. The father of his son’s friend is one of the wealthiest people in Ireland. He asked him for a donation, and received a fat check. It was the first sign. Why did Owen do it? “I trusted in John, but there was something more in it for me. It was my ‘Yes’ to the Mystery.” He was not alone in this, each one of them was saying his own “Yes.” In January, there was the public presentation of At the Origin of the Christian Claim with Fr. Carrón. At the end, John explained the proposed exhibition, with the help of some slides. It seemed like being in Peter’s house, speaking with Jesus. They were all struck, and each of them looked back on his own encounter. This is what they wanted to witness. A few days later, Erasmo sent them some drafts and work material. He said, “I had understood that Christ was at work; I realized that we were going to make it.”

Facts and fantasy. The following month, a small problem cropped up: it was possible to work on the set-up only two days before the opening. This meant setting it up in another place first and then dismantling it and setting it up again. But where? A benefactor offered the use of a warehouse for six weeks. The collection of funds was still pressing. Owen, who, with his brother and sister, owns the most successful chocolate factory in Ireland, decided to go whole hog. He got all the people who were able involved in the project. Kevin, who owns a building firm, in his turn, talked to four other people, and they, in their turn, talked to four more. They unloaded everything in the warehouse, and began building. He said, “I didn’t think it would turn out so lovely. I’m sure the good God will do even more.”
Ciara is a lawyer. One evening, she was invited with her parents to Owen’s house, where they spoke about the exhibition. They offered a contribution, but it was not enough for Ciara. Something touched her inside, and she went to see the exhibition. She said, “I saw an experience that I never had when reading the Gospel. Fr. Giussani’s words are overpowering; they make Jesus present.” It was still not enough. She wanted that Fact to go on. She was to see it again in the evening during Carrón’s meeting with the CL community.
In a bar in central Dublin, I met Celine, a pretty woman with eyes as blue as the Irish sky. She had found in her son’s schoolbag the brief invitation, distributed in the Catholic school with a list of things needed for setting up the exhibition. The title of the exhibit struck her and she decided to go to the presentation. “I offered my services. I worked as a hostess organizing the groups. The exhibition was an oasis full of meaning. You could see people moved. They found something they needed.” You see Celine’s eyes in Tom, 73. This is the sky of Ireland. Tom helped to paint the background. “I was there in that environment of 2,000 years ago, but present now.”
Apart from the problem of funding, there was that of setting it all up. It was a job for experts. They contacted Tom Dowling, a famous set designer, and Edwin Ryan, a sculptor. Ryan listened, asked a few questions, and then finally said, “This is the first time I have been asked not to follow the fantasy of a director, but to reconstruct an event. Art is communication and here we are communicating a fact...” There was no need to contact anyone else. Tom became the project manager, helped by a friend, Stefano.
On June 10th, the exhibition opened its doors on the grounds of the Royal Dublin Society, about 500 yards from the venue of the Eucharistic Congress. They all wondered: would people go there to view it? In one week, 8,000 people traveled over the streets of Capernaum, stopping on the shores of Lake Tiberias. More than 70 volunteers, many of them not from CL, offered their services. The numbers were striking, but these are nothing compared with the emotions aroused in the people. This was an opportunity to ask a question: “Who is Jesus, now?” Christianity is no longer a discourse, a series of rules, and not, for this people, a source of pain because of the scandals in which the Church has been involved. It is a Fact. They can see it in the words of those who, through their lives, explain the exhibition. Christ is there. He is the miracle we need every day in order to live.

A window on the stars. This experience was so wonderful that, in the evening, at the meeting with Carrón, the same intensity was revisited, that awareness of a lived faith that changes life. John’s intuition, the “Yes” repeated again and again by everyone, allowed the Lord to work. The interventions witnessed this. Mariana said, “During a guided tour, someone told me, ‘You have truly met Him.’ And I was able to tell him the day and the hour.” Sara: “It was a miracle for me. I was having a hard time, but when I reached the last panel I was deeply moved. I only have to answer the question, ‘Do you love Me?’” Raymond didn’t know what CL was and, after reading an article by John Waters, he wanted to come and see. He never turned back. “This exhibition made me emerge from the bunker of my job”–that bunker of which the Pope spoke last September at the Bundestag. “It’s true, we are closed up inside those four walls,” says John. “We have to realize it first, but we can open the windows and outside are the stars. Giussani taught us this. He sowed the seed from which all this was born.” Elena, my translator, stopped–not because she is short of words but, like everyone else on this evening, she realized that now the Lord is at work, in the awareness of what we have been living. As Carrón concluded, “Each one of us is deeply moved. This is Christianity: an event that makes people live and enjoy everything in an unimaginable way. You have been witnesses to this. It is not sentimentalism; it is the wonder that Fr. Giussani speaks about. We have seen it in people’s faces. It is the evidence of His Person. From now on, each of us must decide whether or not to let the wonder of this evidence prevail in all circumstances. If we let ourselves be grasped by this wonder, then the best is yet to come.”The following morning, I had a talk with Dublin’s Archbishop Diarmuid Martin. He said, “Very many people came to the Congress, the sign of a desire for formation in the faith. When they entered the exhibition, they touched with their hands what the primitive Church was. It was a glimpse of reality, of what it means to meet Jesus. Nowadays, people think that to solve the problems of the Irish Church great structural changes are needed. Instead, this initiative shows that all starts from small groups, as in the house of Peter, who spoke with Jesus.”
Afterwards, I went for a coffee with Margaret at Helen’s house. This house is famous in Dublin, and arouses curiosity in all those who see it. Six years ago, her husband set about decorating it, bringing artists from all over the world. There are mosaics of Christ’s face and scenes from the Apocalypse; on the marble skirting board a sculptor engraved phrases from Scripture, and there is a trick of light, of stained glass. For the exhibition, Helen did something she never would have thought possible before: “I didn’t know what to do to help. Then I had the idea of opening my house.” For weeks, she cleaned and put things in order. Then, she organized two paying evenings with drinks and appetizers. First was the tour of the house with explanations of the works; then, the presentation of the exhibition by Margaret. “I was very tense at first,” she said. “The people didn’t know each other, and some of them weren’t even Catholics. But when Margaret began to explain, starting from that ‘Yes,’ there was a silence full of interest.” She took me around the house. It is truly special, but what struck me most was Helen’s gaze, which “rests” in Margaret’s–her window on the stars.
In the car on the way to the airport, Massimo asked me what had struck me most in Ireland. I had no doubt: Helen’s eyes.