EDITED BY PAOLA BERGAMINI
pberga@tracce.it

CERRO MAGGIORE
Backstage… at the Retreat
Dearest friends: Again this year, I went to the Spiritual Retreat of the Fraternity to work. My job was to edit the audio-video film of everything that went on. During the day, a camera man and I filmed the sessions. In the evening and at night, I edited the footage together with the film editor, also named Alessandro.While we were editing, Alessandro kept asking me questions about the Movement and about this Retreat. Then it ended, and on Monday my wife and I had to catch the train to go home. He insisted on driving us home in his van, even if this took him out of his way. The rest of the story is contained in this e-mail message that Alessandro sent me: “Wonder, admiration, and anger are what I felt during this, my first, involuntary experience with the Fraternity and what has led me to write these few lines. Wonder, because I found myself to be fascinated as I observed the way that mass of people moved about: no shouting, no pushing, only thousands of figures who, like a mighty river flowing quietly in its bed, gave the idea that they too were following a precise path. If for no other reason, you all would be an example to everyone for your well-mannered way of acting and your respect for the “other.” I mentioned the boundless and unconditional admiration that swept me away during the show that you gave me, or that maybe I stole from you. I mean the music, and in particular two songs, sung by two voices, which I unhesitatingly call penetrating, that pierced me through and at the same time inebriated me, projecting me into a dimension that I am not able to comprehend. The first gave me the gift of an infinite sweetness, while the second wrapped me in a desolate and boundless sadness. Both voices shattered my heart, bursting its cover, freeing it, bringing it out of the rubble into the light. I am forced to admit that I had trouble holding back the lump in my throat. And this is just why I am angry. I am enraged with you and with Him, because you did this to me. I am very angry because you didn’t play fair. You used Beauty to capture the soul, to clear a path into the heart, to crumble the few certainties I was holding onto. This isn’t fair. I am angry at Him, who made me come here without a word of explanation, without pointing out a direction to me, leaving me alone once again with my thoughts. I am angry at myself, because I was not able to put up any resistance or defense against what was presented to me. Very probably what I have written might sound childish or in any case reductive, but it is what I felt and am feeling as I write, and I thought it was right to tell you.”
Alessandro

KAMPALA
The Same Heart
The trip to Germany seems to have gone well. I have always heard people speak of the Germans as a hard, skeptical people, and I was worried about what to say; I was afraid they would ask me too many scientific questions and that I would not be able to defend what I love most. I would prepare what to say and then tear it up. I asked Clara what I could tell people who knew everything better than I do. She answered, “Be yourself.” So I went, and I discovered that man’s heart is made the same way wherever you go; it is the same for everybody. I saw a people destroyed by ideologies, a tired people, but one that was moved—to tears–by seeing the truth. I thought I was saying the wrong things, that I was scandalizing them, but instead they were struck. Even the doctors, including Andreas’ chief of staff and the psychologists, were moved and understood that technique alone is not enough. A psychologist told me that they do a lot of group work, but in the end each one is more alone than before; rivalries spring up and everything falls apart. I spoke of Fr. Giussani as my teacher, so everybody asked me who he was–if he was a psychologist, where he lived, how to get in touch with him, the titles of his books… At the end of the meetings, I always showed them the photo of me and Fr. Giussani (published in the September issue of Traces) and they were even more moved. I had ten meetings in eight days, as I had never done before in my life, and always in different places. At a certain point I asked myself, “What am I doing here?” I remembered what I had been told: look at people the way Fr. Giussani would look at them, have his heart. Thus, I stood before these people thinking of how he would have done it. At the meeting in Eichstatt, the Bishop spoke in front of everybody using the same words of Fr. Giussani that I had used. He said that the “I” originally is belonging, and that one is somebody within a relationship. He spoke of the person, belonging, and work. I always started with the image of Icarus to talk about man’s heart, and then I would say that all my work had sprung forth from my belonging to the Church. The Bishop was moved. He said that in Germany, not even in the Church are such things said any more; that everything has, in a sense, lost its meaning. He thanked me very much for having said this, and he blessed me. At any rate, it is clear that what is true, is true for everyone, there’s no two ways about it. I did not invent any words, I said what Fr. Giussani says, and I saw that everyone was moved. I was a little doubtful of what I saw and asked Maria and Marcus (the German tutsi) if I had understood rightly. I too could say, “Quos redemisti, Tu conserva Christe” [“Those you have redeemed, keep them O Christ”]. My words are nothing, but this instead is the right entreaty to God: Save and preserve the origin of the heart of man.
Rose

CARATE BRIANZA
Dear Uncle…
My dearest uncle: I am glad I got to say hello to you last Saturday; you really looked well! I would like to see you more often, even though I know you are close to me through the people I met thanks to you; there are so many of them! Everyone admires you, and some of them explain your books, which make very clear, to those who are willing to listen, the reasons why we are in the world, who Jesus is, what He did, and why we should believe in Him. When I have discussions with some of these people, sometimes observing them and listening to them, I think of your way of speaking, and above all your way of penetrating, with your light-blue eyes, the gaze of the person you have in front of you. When I was small, I remember that you, as opposed to other adults, would listen to me and would make me laugh by telling me jokes, and this was the beginning of my liking for you. I have to tell you that I admire you very much because you are ready, attentive, and humble in communicating to me, as to anyone who is close to you, the greatness and complexity of your experience. Your love for others is incredible, because you approach their problems as if you always had before you the face of Jesus. I am sure that His face does not have that big bump you have next to your mouth, but He really looks very much like you. I consider myself lucky to know a person like you, who in every line you have written and with your very person enthusiastically have made and make the figure of Jesus come to life just as though He were still next to us.
A 14-year-old boy

At Work
In the past few weeks, I have been invited by some colleagues of mine to talk about these topics: Science / Medicine and Religion / Spirituality. First, the scientist with whom I share an office in the Research Institute was apparently interested in the lecture on science and religion that I had given as part of a new course called “Spirituality and Health,” given at my university. In fact, my dean had asked me to be a part of the course, ever since we had invited him to come to speak at one of our doctors’ restaurant meetings. My scientist friend had heard me talking about this, and decided to invite me to speak at his Anglican Church about science and religion, as part of their Lenten lectures. So one Sunday morning, I went for the first time to an Anglican Mass, and was delighted to listen to their beautiful young boys’ choir. I then spoke about how science and religion are both about the religious sense, and showed them the map of the human genome. People listened with great interest. The Anglican Bishop of Montreal was there and he enjoyed it tremendously. In fact, we spoke afterwards about the situation of the Church in these times, and we were both happy to meet each other. I hope that our discussions can continue.
A week later, I was invited by a Polish scientist friend to speak at the Polish Institute at McGill about spirituality and medicine. I spoke about the Presence of the Mystery in medicine and in science, quoting at length from the Religious Sense, advising people to buy it. The enthusiasm with which I was received just goes to show how people now are yearning for Meaning, for a human unity in thought. I could not help but feel in both cases how much Fr. Giussani is different from so much of what is said even by intellectuals and scientists who write about these problems without understanding either science or religion. I ended the first lecture talking about science by saying that the mystery, the beauty of the stars, of the genome, was made flesh, became a man, and that this period of Lent calls us to conversion, to turn our gaze toward Him. How fortunate that I have been given such an opportunity, to have met Fr. Giussani, to have found a place which educates me in a path of mercy to do this, and thus to live myself fully.
Mark, Canada

Cell Phone Messages
A written message came up on the display of my cell phone: “I need to see you and talk to you. Call me!” I didn’t recognize the telephone number. I said to myself, “Who could this be?” I dialed the number of the person who sent the message. A weak little voice answered me and apologized for her mistake–the message was not directed to me, but to her boyfriend. She was an 18-year-old girl, in crisis. All I could do was tell her I was available to help her. After a week went by, another message arrived that said, “Do you remember me? Are you still willing to help me? I don’t have any friends, I’m expecting a baby and I have to get rid of it.” What confusion was going through my head! Help a person you don’t even know, who is miles away, with a problem on which you take a diametrically opposed view. Why should a responsibility like this fall to me? What could I have in common with a girl like that? And then I had a flash: belonging to a people who has the destiny of “the other” at heart, the companionship of the Movement. I reassured the girl (I will call her Fortunata) of my desire to help her, asking her to give me a day. All it took was a telephone call to the Regional Secretariat of the Movement, an assurance of interest, another phone call received by a CL girl (whom I obviously don’t know!) in Modena who took it upon herself to “accompany”Fortunata, starting with contact by telephone. After two days, Fortunata called me to tell me she had thought about my words, that she had decided to keep the baby, that she had felt a great joy in feeling surrounded by friends whom she doesn’t know yet, it’s true, but who she “senses” love her “gratuitously.” This is a “story” that has been going on for four months. The true, concrete, tangible certitude which this story has given me is the awareness of belonging to a people. This showed me clearly that if you ask, if you have the humility to ask for help, the Movement makes you feel that you are always accompanied. By whom? Why, by Him, who made us all!
Angelo, Pomigliano d’Arco

For Enzo
Fr. Pino’s homily at the Holy Mass in memory of Enzo Piccinini, two years after his death. Modena Cathedral, May 26, 2001
“The Lord has made his memory great.” What Enzo lived, what helps us to live in every instant of our life is that fact which the liturgy of the Church, by a surprising coincidence, teaches us to contemplate today: Jesus’ ascension to Heaven. Christ disappears from His disciples’ sight, but it is not an absence, it is not a loss, it is not the end of a story of greatness. It is the beginning of a definitive history, it is the beginning of a possibility which becomes experience for anyone who encounters Him, acknowledges Him, and follows Him, because this gesture of Christ’s means what the Resurrection has already shown the world, that the Lord in His humanity, through His flesh, goes to the root of everything.
Christian certitude–in the frailty of our existence, in the frailty of our flesh–is born of acknowledging, accepting this definitive possession which the Lord is: everything in everyone. Enzo lived this memory, he looked into the heart of things, starting from, living, resonating with this certitude. This is why, for him, commitment, struggle, labor were sacrifice and offering for the glory of God in this world. This is why he now lives what we all desire, what we all toil for, what we all together–this is true friendship–help each other to accomplish: life as offering, life as tending toward meaning, life as praise.
Mystery remains just that, but every instant of his greatness, every gesture which benefited each of us is not lost, and the passing of time deepens our consciousness of the meaning of what he lived for, which is what each of us lives for.
When you have a friend in Paradise, the desire for fulfillment, the certainty of destiny becomes more familiar; entreaty becomes easier, certitude becomes simpler. What we desire, that for which our life, every day, becomes journey–begging, work, toil, constantly starting again, continual forgiveness–Enzo sees. He is more our friend, more our father, more a spouse to you, Fiorisa, than ever before. The mystery of this sacrifice that the Lord asked of him is not removed. But the passing of time makes more evident the fertility, the generation, the generosity of what happened, of what is happening. The word totality is more familiar to us; it is more familiar to us to repeat, even in the most laborious circumstances. We can say, “Christ is everything in everyone,” because Enzo lived like this, because he lives and sees, and just as he ran during his life, now too he runs ahead of us in the race of every day, in the race that is the Christian life, like John and Andrew in that first dawn light, in that resounding of a promise which in our life becomes ever more evident, ever more concrete, ever more flesh, ever more the history of an inexorable positivity.
Jesus, companionship to destiny. Thus, as we asked at the beginning, “let us entreat Our Lady to assimilate us to the impetuous and tender humanity of the One who is our friend forever, so that the Church may live by the strength of Him who is our joy.”