Letters

Letters

What are these painful
events telling me?
Reading and listening to the recent painful events that involved some persons in the  Movement in Italy, I felt the urge to write. Over the past few days, I thought about it all a lot and I discovered a new way to face these circumstances. When things like this happen, the majority of people react either by indulging in pure gossip or by searching franticly for more information in the attempt to understand what is right and what is wrong–mainly to defend something. On the contrary, I have been taken over by a painful silence, which has become a prayer. The first question that came to mind was: “How can what is happening have anything to do with me?” After all, I live in Bogotá; I have very good reasons to disregard the whole situation. But that was not the case. Therefore, I asked myself, “How is this situation impacting upon my life?” Lately, we have been busy working on our Christmas recital, an endeavor that requires a great commitment, before the deserved Christmas break. I said to myself, “What hope do I propose to these children? What do I celebrate on Christmas?” I realized that what is happening doesn’t take away even a smidge of my certainty, and of the truth of the encounter that I had, and that I still have every day. Then, just as Carrón wrote in his recent letter to the Fraternity, the real problem is the conversion of our hearts. All the painful events we are going through can be a positive opportunity for us, only if they allow the conversion of our hearts. The hope of the world, in fact, does not coincide with our events, our works, not even with our “teachers. ” The hope of the world coincides with our own conversion, and with the daily opportunity of a relationship with Christ. Even if there were just two of us left, it would still be true. I would like these few lines of mine to be the most sincere embrace of all of you, as well as an invitation to live and marvel at the encounter that we had; to bear witness to the Truth that is present and continues to fill us with wonder as we encounter it in the simple daily circumstances of our lives.
Irene, Bogotá (Colombia)

A desire that is stronger than any strategy
Since the beginning of October, I have been dealing with a very serious situation at work, due to a number of changes regarding the amount of work, the responsibility I was given, and the human resources that need to be coordinated–and, in a way, tolerated. I was having a hard time, and I kept asking myself, “If it is true that everything is for my growth, why do I feel so bad? Is Christ really my hope?” I was stuck on my organizational strategies, which I thought were far better than the ones that reality was dictating. Then I re-read Father Carrón’s letter to the Fraternity and Traces, and every paragraph moved me and freed my heart from that heaviness and sense of being stuck that had marked my days. It is true that life is played out in the struggle between our dreams and what reality puts in front of us. I really understood that “following is the desire to relive the experience of the person who has provoked you, and who still provokes you, with his presence in the life of the community [...]; it is the desire to participate in the life of that person, in whom something from an Other has been brought to you. And it is precisely this Other to whom you are so devoted, toward which you aspire, to whom you wish to adhere, all within this common journey” (Fr. Julián Carrón, “A Fact of Life,” Traces, Vol 14, No. 10 [Nov.] 2012, p. 1). Now I want to go back to my workplace praying that I love Him more than any thought or strategy of mine. I repeat with the Pope: “My hope is that God never disappears” (Ibid., p. 12). Of this I am certain. I can say that He has once again taken hold of me, simply through the written words that bear witness to the lives of true and free human beings.
Sonia, Pescara (Italy)

At the retreat Like
the Samaritan Woman
Dear Fr. Julián: I came to the University Students Exercises because it has become a habit, more than because of a real need to be there. At first the title, “Has anyone ever promised us anything? Then why should we expect anything?” (Cesare Pavese),  struck me, but a moment later I went back to the thousand things I needed to do. I thought that letting myself be challenged by those questions was a waste of time. Nevertheless, from the introduction on, I found myself having to deal with the fact that in front of me there was a man who was speaking from his heart. You were talking about life, and the promise that it carries, with a joy that was hard for me to imagine. Then a struggle began inside of me. On one side, there was my skepticism trying to reduce everything; as you were talking about the episode of Samaritan woman, I thought: “After all, it was more reasonable to think that Jesus was a deranged man talking nonsense when He said that there was a water that could quench her thirst forever, and that He knew everything about her just because He had gathered information just to impress her.” I didn’t want to admit that there was something I couldn’t explain. I didn’t think that contemplating the possibility that something could escape human understanding was the most reasonable hypothesis. And then Silvia, a dear friend of mine, after telling you about the dramatic circumstances she lived through over the past few months, asked you what it meant that Christ fulfills us. What happened to me in that moment was exactly what happened to the Samaritan woman 2,000 years ago: I saw you looking at Silvia with a tenderness, with a certainty that her sadness was not going to be an eternal punishment, with a fatherhood that I would have never been capable of.  Suddenly, all my objections about the irreducibility that you often talk about disappeared. This is because you, knowing Silvia less than me, were able to fully understand her drama and to stay in front of it without the need to suppress anything. In the past months, noticing she was always sad, I was bothered by her frequent crying spells or, at best, I would pat her shoulder saying things like, “Cheer up, life is beautiful.” On the contrary, you were able to look at everything about her, without reducing her. Not only am  I unable to look at her like that but, left to my own devices, I would not even be able to imagine such a gaze. Before seeing you treating her the way you did, I would never have thought one could love her like that. On one hand, I felt a dizzying correspondence with that way to look at her; on the other hand, I recognized that it transcended my abilities. That second of honesty allowed me to live the Exercises free from prejudice. I had the same experience one reads about in the Gospel, 2,000 years later. I went back home filled with the desire to surrender to the exceptionality I saw.
Anna, Italy

The perfect schedule,
changed by something
Dear friends: My desire to play in an orchestra is like an open wound. It is so powerful that, at times, it makes me want to quit everything I do to follow that career path. I have always been marred by this doubt: “Why do You grant me this gift, this great desire, if I can’t use it?” The Lord answered my question by giving me the opportunity to play in an orchestra on Sundays (important detail: Sunday was my only day off) for the past months. This particular orchestra has always received a small contribution from the Methodist University, yet the relationship between the orchestra and the University had become very fragile, to the point that their financial support was not going to be granted for the year 2013. Since we were in the middle of the electoral campaign, I suggested to our director that maybe we could meet a few politicians to let them know about the orchestra and ask for support. I had in mind a candidate to the city council. One day, I happened to hear a loud speaker inviting people to question the candidate. I talked to my wife Melissa, and we positioned ourselves on our doorstep. When the candidate reached us, we spoke about the lack of support for culture and we decided to have a meeting at our house.  I formed a commission with some members of the orchestra and we had a very useful conversation. Since then, we have begun meeting periodically, and we became friends with the politician. To make a long story short, things were going well: I had a relevant position within the orchestra, I played regularly, and I was the president of the organization that we had started. Even my teaching job was going well. It was perfect. That’s when the drama started. On the morning of November 13th, I woke up with a sharp pain in my chest, and I went to the hospital. The tests indicated that I was having a heart attack, so I was hospitalized. In that moment, my whole life played out in front of my eyes, and I thought I was approaching death. I confess, that was the first time I was not afraid to die. I realized that, in the 33 years of my life, the Lord had given me many graces, and many times I had not reciprocated with my “yes.” My friend Julián de la Morena once told me that sometimes we need to experience disillusionment in order for our “I” to grow. He also pointed out many examples taken from the stories of the apostle and saints, about physical limitations. The one that struck me the most was Father Giussani, who, at the end of his life, still had so many things to tell us, but could no longer speak. Today I prayed, thanking God for every minute that He has allowed me to live.
Márcio, São Bernardo do Campo (Brazil)

A father’s wish
On the feast day of my 17-year-old son Francesco, I sent him this phone message: “Happy feast day! I hope you will continue on your path to sanctity, like Francis Xavier, through all the encounters that God will give you. A hug, Dad.” He answered: “Thank you, Dad. Have a good day. Let’s ask to be free in our relationship at home, and to be able to tell each other everything. I need to see where Christ is present in your life, because you are my point of reference. Your disability has opened a new world to me and has allowed me to meet Christ. I love you.” Will I accept my son’s challenge? Will I be able to see where Christ is in my life and follow Him? It is indeed the time of the person, that is, my time.
Giuseppe, Milan (Italy)

“THE OTHER  YES  THAT GOD ASKED OF US”
On December 29th, Giacomo, age 18, the oldest of six children and a student at the  high school in Milan, lost his life while snowboarding on the mountains. His father, Gianni Cornara, had died of a heart attack in September. This letter, written by his mother, Monica, was read during the funeral, which was attended by hundreds of young people.

On the day of our wedding, I wrote this prayer of the faithful: “Mary, help us to recognize and welcome the Mystery of your Son in order to passionately embrace the circumstances of our life every day, to recognize and love the good destiny that the Lord has prepared for us, and help us to say, in every moment, ‘be it done unto me according to Thy word.’” I was naïvely thinking of the joys and sorrows of every marriage: the gift of children, remorse over misunderstandings, amazement at unexpected news, annoyance at what doesn’t correspond. Of course, all of these little things did accompany our 19 years of marriage, constructing our life and that of our children. Three months ago, the Lord called Gianni to Himself; the mystery of death made itself present, alive, piercing. Every day, I asked Our Lady to sustain me, to offer my weariness and disorientation to God, so that I could continue to communicate to my children that everything is a gift, and that the good to which Gianni is called is infinitely greater than what he would have enjoyed by staying here with us. And the certainty of His grace became flesh in us; we experienced it through all of the people who sustained and accompanied us at all times.
Then, O God, you asked another yes of us. The open wound in my heart became a chasm, because You wanted to call Giacomo to Yourself, too; You gave to him, too, the complete happiness that his restless 18-year-old heart had sought at all costs–at home, in school with friends, in his studies, and in his free time. What infinite peace he must feel today, watching us, together with his father. Thank you, O God, because you gave this great gift to Giacomo. I offer you all of my human pain, renewing my “be it done unto me according to Thy word.” May our wound always be open and bleeding, so that we can live every instant of our life with the awareness that we are made for the good and the happiness that Giacomo and Gianni are already contemplating.
Monica, Milan (Italy)

Outrageously happy
Dear Fr. Carrón:  One evening, in the car with a friend, we got to talking and, since he had noticed that I often told him about my relationship problems with a girl that I love, at a certain point he stopped me, telling me that I always talked about her, as if she were the main thing in my life. Before saying good-bye to me that night, he left me with this challenge: “Live like a man! Is what you heard at School of Community just a discourse, or does it not offer you, instead, a hypothesis for facing this difficulty, too?” The next morning, I started reading the notes from the GS Beginning Day, especially the part about original dependence. At one point, it talks about the song Il mio volto [My Face]. And I realized that this was precisely what I was living with the person that I love: I was trying, in every way that I could, to fix the problems between us, searching for a true relationship, but I was seeing only darkness. The song says, “Only when I realize that You exist do I hear my voice again–like an echo–and I’m born again, as time is born from memory.” I was moved; I felt myself being reborn. I understood that the decisive point for my life was not to fix the problems with this girl, but to realize that “You exist,” that is, that He is present in every circumstance. And thus I understood that what I want most in life is to be outrageously happy.  Name withheld

Where the crisis really comes from
 I work for a company where we talked a lot about the crisis, but we had never really felt its effect–until now, that is: it has arrived, and it has taken four of the twelve employees. There was a lot of talking about restrictive measures, and solutions to guarantee that we would all keep our jobs, but that did not happen. I should have felt fortunate, just for having kept my job, but there was something that rubbed me the wrong way. I felt like I was on a lifeboat after the ship had sunk, quickly trying to put some distance between myself and the people who were still in the water, because they could capsize the boat. At that point, I had to do something to address my uneasiness, so I went to see my boss. My question was pretty clear-cut: “What can I do to help my colleagues?” What sacrifice did the situation ask me to face to allow those men to keep their jobs? My boss–a man who has seen me grow within the company–looked at me with a puzzled  expression. I reworded my question, and this time he saw my point. He understood that my query  had surfaced from something deeper, something that we all have in our souls, and that we often silence. He explained that he had no choice. He said, “I am sure that none of your colleagues would have said a word in your defense, if you were among the ones who had been fired.” I went back to work with a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe my boss’ statement made me understand where the crisis came from, and what it feeds upon. It is born in the heart and it feeds on feelings. It spreads in our souls and makes us selfish, mute, and deaf. This cancer does not allow us to take note of the needs of those who are near us, thus humiliating man and his dignity.
Orazio, Catania (Italy)