Letters

EDITED BY PAOLA BERGAMINI
pberga@tracce.it

Taranto
Memor Domini on a Submarine
Dear Fr Giussani: I left home to fulfill my year’s military duty in the Navy in February 1994, and was assigned to a modern torpedo boat. Only after a year on the ship did I follow the procedure for becoming an officer in the Naval Engineering Corps and then to be assigned to submarines, where I am still. My duty is to see to the technical operations regarding the mechanical equipment, propulsion, thermal motors, and electrical systems on board. The solemnity of my oath to the Italian Republic as a Navy officer impressed me deeply and, quite frankly, even frightened me a little because of the “always” that was asked of me from the outset, but this enabled me to discover life as vocation. Until then, I had never thought to undertake a military career, but certainly I had realized that there is nothing that does not have to do with what is human. Dependence in a juridical, administrative, and disciplinary sense has to do with the human, and I myself, as a Navy officer, have a clear-cut political expression. Through my work, I was able to discover my vocation (which was imposed on me, since it is an objective one), to love the world even more, and to treat my superiors, equals, and subordinates in a truer way. “Christ is the human,” also in the condition of men who swear loyalty to the Republic and are themselves an Institution. Christ is not just the solution to the barbarities of statism, which unfortunately touch my sphere too, but He is the ideal who restores a full connection between the military form and the human, a form that represents the Navy to the whole world. I am a Memor Domini in the world and a Memor Domini in the Navy. There is no separation between the form of expression of my state and the expression of the action of my “I.” I live the same thing, because hope is one alone: my life, my vocation. The saber is an integral part of my dress uniform, advertising the Navy before the world and thus my work before the world, which is a vocation. To be sure, my profession affirms this unity because it is objective and because it has affirmed itself in this way in my life. For me, it is an honor to know you and an honor to give you my saber. Precisely because there is no separation and because I acknowledge that I belong to you, it is as though it had always been yours. Forgive me.
Djohan

Paris
Violaine’s Retreat
Invited by a group of Communion and Liberation friends, who are students in Paris, I left, curious and enthusiastic, to participate for the first time in the Spiritual Retreat in Rimini. When I arrived Saturday morning, how great was my surprise to find myself in an enormous auditorium with at least 6,000 students who had come from every part of the world, all concentrated on and attentive to the words of Fr Giussani! We responded to the provocation of these words during the weekend, and this was the occasion for me to become aware that God offers Himself to the heart of our freedom and is concretely part of our lives. After the lessons, in the small group assemblies, questions came up, and each person expressed his own doubts or daily concerns. In some cases, in their replies, the speakers asked us this question, “Why did you come here, and what have you encountered?” At the same time, they offered what had been their own experience. It is in discerning, with the same intensity as two thousand years ago, the “signs” that manifest themselves today, that it is possible to answer the question, “How can I be certain that the Mystery is present?” The humanity of Christ took on its full meaning within this community of students. I realized that this surge of spontaneous fellow-feeling, which consists of viewing others as people created like us and for the same end for which we were created, is a good method for recognizing the presence of God. May each one seek God within reality; it is He who is working there, and it is right to remain tied to Him as much as each one can. It was exciting to listen to Antonio Socci, who spoke Saturday evening. “It is worth our trouble to tell that Christ is really among us,” he told us. By exposing himself publicly in the media dominated by the partiality of ratings, he testifies to his own certainty that God became Man; acknowledging God’s presence helps him to do his work. I was deeply impressed by the warm welcome and the emotion at seeing many friends again and sharing with them the profundity of the words we heard. All this makes me want to be, in turn, a witness to the trace this encounter leaves. The organization of these Exercises was truly laudable; we even had simultaneous translation! Back in Paris, I still hear the words “encounter” and “presence” ringing in my ears, pronounced with a delightful Italian accent.
Violaine Claudel

Reggio Emilia
Through the Flesh
Dear Fr Giussani: In December 1994, I finally was given an annual assignment of 36 hours substituting in the municipal kindergarten of a town about 12 miles from Reggio, and I was in seventh heaven. My first impact with a woman who had already been working there for ten years was, “Oh! Here they are all Communists!” But after twenty years of parish life with a priest who had been a partisan during the war and who considered CL the equivalent of a sect, I was a bit Catho-Communist myself! After a few days came my second impact: in response to my pushy and insistent questioning she literally told me to…. go take a walk! So I said to myself, “She is too strong, I have to become her friend!” And that is what happened; little by little we “tamed” each other and, since I wanted to learn to love what seemed to be so great a part of her life, the Movement of CL, I agreed to take part in the Exercises for young workers in Riva del Garda. It was a strange experience for me, for whom retreats meant the liturgy of the hours, meditation, the desert, lectio divina, etc. I had not taken any notes at all (I had not understood anything!) even though I had liked Fr Baroncini, but the next day, she brought to work all her notes recopied for me! Then she gave me Si può vivere così? (Can one live like this?), and this brought about my definitive surrender, because I was completely intrigued and astounded by the content of this book that corresponded so closely to what I was seeking. Now that I am doing for my new colleagues what she did then for me, I feel a great sense of gratitude and am moved because I realize how much she loved me, in the true sense of the word–that is to say, loving my destiny. Even though I am still a hard-head full of pretensions, it is very clear to me that her Yes to Him and to our friendship was the instrument Jesus chose to become an Encounter for me. If God was made flesh, it is through the flesh that we know Him, through precise faces and through people who, like you and my colleague, have said Yes to Him.
Nadia

Among the Street Children
Dearest friends: What is happening in the world–wars, terrorist attacks, violence, and everything else–seems to have the strength to put out every flame of life and hope. In November, at the Edimar Social Center, shocked and powerless, we saw five of our friends die, killed by what is called around here “popular justice” (what is meant by justice and what is meant by popular is absolutely unclear). In these circumstances, in the face of these events, we have seen emerging a beautiful, spontaneous popular solidarity on the part of so many street children (Christians and Muslims). I was particularly struck by the open availability of a boy toward one who was killed in early November. After having watched over his friend all night, like so many others, in a makeshift shelter, he said to me that only God would be able to see all this, keeping it in mind also in his own regard. “I was happy to do it… you never know… I too am away from home, and something could always happen to me.” A few days later, he was the one we were burying. Everyone wanted these boys, killed at different times, to be buried in a way that would give them the modicum of dignity that society had denied them. And this is what was done. Many things are helping us to understand what we are, the sign that the Edimar Center is, in this capital that is not always growing to the measure of man. The fact of being located in the city center puts us in the spotlight on all sides: we are the friends of the street children and bandits as well as of people who do good. Things are better for our friend Brice. After months of broken-off dialogue on various downtown sidewalks, we found a family that has taken him in. He is off the streets and can go back to school. He had no trace of a father, but I was able to track down his mother with a long phone call to Paris. In short, we have the usual situation: mother on the right, father on the left, and the child in the street! And yet, God is not tired of this humanity that is so confused. Christmas made us understand that Christ’s face is inside all these circumstances. He alone gives value to every seed of life and makes it grow. This fills us with wonder–not so much at the existence of the Mystery, which could remain something abstract and purely devotional, but wonder because the Mystery was made flesh, He became a man, a permanent companionship in our life.
Fr Maurizio, Cameroon

The Courage to Go Forward
I was 20 years old when I arrived at the Domus Co-op, and I didn’t know how to do anything. In all these years I have experienced hospitality and education to a job, because I was first taken in and taken care of; then my work experience coincided with the encounter with the Movement of Communion and Liberation. I was alone, with a burdensome family situation. For better or worse, I threw myself headlong on the side of the leaders of the Cooperative: sink or swim. I will always remember that every two or three days Angelica, together with Alvaro, would ask me, “Are you sure you want to do this job?” Despite the fact that I did not know how to do anything, despite the fact that I thought or was convinced that I was not clever and ingenious like the others who were working with me, I did not let myself be conditioned by this fact. I asked, I learned, and I always started over. At a certain point in my life, I understood that this was the road for me, and despite the toil of every day, even when I did not agree with or share many of the decisions, I was stubborn, I wanted to stay there, because I had perceived that here the “constant presence of Christ in the everyday” was at stake, and for me, this was the most important thing. This was a crucial fact. I am not a happy person by nature, but I am glad, because Jesus helps me, in the toil of every day, to go forward. After all, my work in the Domus Co-op makes evident the fact or the experience that one does not make himself, and the older and more mature I become, the greater my need is. Today, I feel a constant restlessness. In some things this has strengthened me, and in others it has made me more sensitive, and this is why I am more needy of the companionship of the people who are close to me. I feel even more the need to hear someone ask me more often, “How are you? How are things going for you?” to have the courage to go on.
Giusi, Forlì

Something Human
This is a letter sent by Callie, who attended the US National Diakonia even though she has never been to a School of Community. The letter is addressed to Luca, who invited her

When Francesca, Ester and Valeria went back to Italy, I was sad to see them go, just because I can’t spend time with them, but I am sure that it is better to have people in my life who I connect to even if it is for a short time, than to never have them at all. And, I wouldn’t trade the time that I had with them, if I could, to not be sad. I don’t know if you can understand how amazing it was for me to see something like what I saw this weekend. You know, my family is Catholic (Polish), but we were never baptized. I always went to Mass with my Catholic friends when I was young. For me, the ceremony and ritual of the Catholic tradition is something more spiritual than other faiths that I have seen practiced. Do you remember when they were talking about Christ coming from Mary and how that is what keeps the Catholic religion grounded and not just some supernatural thing that has no relationship to humanity? It’s like I never experienced that relationship because the people involved in the Catholic churches that I have gone to wouldn’t show you that they were human. If you can’t see the humanity in your clergy, how can you see that there is a human relationship to your religion? I really felt like I saw that this weekend. I was completely amazed by the people there. Also, it was great to see you with people you could identify with and who you shared a history with (like when I was watching you guys singing last night; it made me smile to see you all so happy). I am sure it was wonderful for you.
Callie, Chicago, Illinois

The Spreading of a Friendship
My wife, Micki, and I have opposite problems. She has always said how we need more friends, while I’ve remained antisocial. She often opens herself up to people, only to be hurt by them, while I tend to close myself off from people in order not to be hurt. When Micki was a child, daughter of divorced parents and at the mercy of a strict stepfather, she would crave love and attention, only to be pushed away. But I was the son of a faithful Methodist minister and indulgent mother who both showed me a lot of love. The youngest of five, I was the spoiled baby of the family, and so became self-centered. And I would constantly overhear conversations of the church-people being overly nice to my father, but then, once around a corner, speaking against him, not realizing that I was eavesdropping. So I came to mistrust people and use my disgust for hypocrisy as an excuse to be aloof. Finally, I was determined to be a hermit (other than having to go to work each day) and I built a tiny cabin for myself in the woods, without utilities. I then searched newspaper ads for a guard dog to protect my cabin while I was at work. The perfect dog was found, and Micki was his owner. After giving the dog to me, Micki would come to visit him, and as time passed she would come to visit me instead of the dog. But despite the love and trust in our marriage of 27 years now, Micki continues to desire true friends, and I have remained unsocial. I discovered Communion and Liberation through Traces magazine, wanting little more than to have some good reading material. But in asking for Traces, I was befriended via e-mail by Valentina at the National Office, and that friendship spread to others, and finally in 2001 I attended the National Diaconia near Washington DC. Never before had I experienced such authentic love from so many people. And now in January of 2003, I was able to attend the Diaconia in Chicago and take Micki with me. I knew she would like it, but not that God would work such a miracle in our lives through it. Once again, Micki opened herself up to people, not only to a few but at the microphone in front of everyone. When I usually would have worried about this risk, I felt a great calm. In tears she poured out our problems with some of our children and asked how we can possibly show unconditional love when it’s apparent our love is conditional. Immediately, Jonathan responded from the table, and then Fr Fabio went up to the front, with his interpreter, and gave an answer. After the meeting, Todd came to help us, speaking from experience. Alvaro had already helped us greatly, and continues to do so. And throughout the weekend we were approached and accompanied by so many new friends willing to share our burdens that Micki and I were in joyous awe. At one point during a later meeting, when nothing particularly moving was happening, I glanced at Micki and saw that she was silently sobbing. I asked her what was wrong, but she was crying too hard to answer. Finally she got out, “Too much love.” Relieved and surprised, I began to laugh. And there we were, Micki crying her eyes out, and me laughing. As I said, my wife and I have opposite problems–her needing real friendships from people and me mistrusting and avoiding people. The love and acceptance demonstrated to us by the people there–given to us by the Mystery through true charity–solves both of our problems. The term “Communion and Liberation” had always confused me. It’s difficult for a “would-be” hermit to understand. But during the experience of the Diaconia, I not only understand it, but Micki and I truly feel communion and liberation!
Dale, Branson, Missouri