Vocation Via Bellotti,10. At the School of Benedict The Prioress of the Benedictine Monastery in the center of Milan opened the doors to Traces, revealing the roots of a vocation to education, education of youth and now of adults. The friendship with Fr Giussani and with the Movement, a history of faithfulness to an encounter edited by Paola Bergamini Via Bellotti 10. Chiara, her parents beside her, looks at the huge late-18th century building and thinks, “Of all the high schools in Milan, they have to bring me to the nuns…” Once they have crossed the forbidding gateway, the cloister in front of them is filled with light. In one corner, a group of girls is laughing and playing. “Mother, we haven’t finished the discussion on Marx… I won’t give in.” “Don’t worry, neither will I. Now I have to go; they’re waiting for me. We’ll meet later in class. Get ready.” “You can bet on it!” Sr Gertrude, with a smile, reaches Chiara and her parents. As they move towards the parlor, the nun approaches the girl, “Those are my girls of the 5th year of high school. Tomorrow, they have an essay to write in preparation for the matriculation exam. You know, we are enclosed nuns; during the test we are behind a grate and it’s hard to check that they are not copying…” Chiara looks astounded at this nun with the deep calm eyes. A moment later, they both burst out laughing. A nun who pulls your leg, who speaks of Marx… I wasn’t expecting this, but it’s a good start. It worth going to find out what goes on there inside. All this happened about ten years ago. It was Mother Gertrude herself who remembers it. She is the Prioress of the Benedictines of Perpetual Adoration. Here in the monastery of via Bellotti–which, from the beginning in 1892, saw the monastic life in strict relationship with education–at one time all the grades of school were present, from kindergarten right up through high school; and it was the nuns themselves who did the teaching. Mother Gertrude, I understand that education is one of your characteristics? The education commitment is part of the Benedictine spirit. In the prologue to the Rule it is written, “Listen, son, to the teachings of the master.” The monastery is a school of divine service. Education is the soul of Benedictine life. The monk conceives of himself in a situation of continuous self-education, together with his brothers, in the word of God. This echoed in the school right from the start, because there was a need on the Church’s part to open a scholastic institution. In teaching shines out all the wealth of the Rule of St Benedict. I’ll give you an example. In the eighties, the educative plan for the Institute was revised. We worked on it together, teachers (not just nuns, but lay teachers, too), students and parents. It was, firstly, looking at each other and asking, “What are we doing? What does education aim at? We read the Rule together and it was a wonderful work. We transferred the fundamental value of the Rule into the plan. What was it? The formation of that freedom that is mysteriously realized through obedience and that matures the sense of responsibility in the awareness of the gift of faith we have received and for which we are responsible. We laid much stress on the community aspect as a reflection of the Benedictine Community, which is founded on deep, stable bonds of mutual donation. We insisted much on the fundamental concept of human and Christian formation, which must be the same thing–namely, culture animated by faith and faith harmonized with culture. These principles took on many specific aspects. For example, a person is educated through the community of the school, and therefore through the strict collaboration between management, the teaching staff and the representatives of the collegial structures. We worked together assiduously on the educational plan. We were a family. What did the students perceive? First of all, although it seems paradoxical, they grasped the aspect of the community as a family. They understood that the community, since it had the characteristic stability of bonds, was open to them, offering a point of reference. In a society in which affections and bonds of friendship are so labile and precarious, they sensed that behind the feeling of familiarity that they perceived in the school lay the sense of monastic stability. There is a “forever” that responds to the human demand for gladness and fullness. They perceived this because they saw it concretely. How many of the students asked spontaneously to read the Rule together, and to discuss certain aspects of it! It was just in those years that there were many people of CL teaching with you. Why? First of all–perhaps not many know it–Fr Giussani taught in our institute before beginning his adventure at the Berchet High School. When, later, as there were fewer and fewer nuns, we had to take on new teachers, we looked around for people whose educational aims were inspired by the faith and by belonging to the Church. In the Movement, we found people with our own passion for education who wanted truly to collaborate with us. Moreover, Fr Giussani has often stressed that many aspects of the Rule were fundamental for him and are in some way the soul of the Movement. The relationship never weakened and in recent years has deepened thanks to a new novice in our community. More than once, Fr Giussani visited us, offering us the gift of his paternity. For very many years, he offered us precious contributions from his thought in our magazine, Ora et Labora. Eight years ago the school closed down… It was a difficult period. The drop in population, but mostly the cultural change in society had negative effects on the relationship between the families and the Institute. We came to feel a contrast between the needs of monastic life and the motives for which families chose our school. Sadly, it was most of all just a question of convenience or of physical proximity, without an effective participation in school life. At that point, some friends of the Movement were ready to take over the running of the school. We had to decide. We knew that the school had to be the natural effusion of our spiritual experience. It couldn’t be “alongside” us. At that point, the decision was very simple: no, it wasn’t possible. We suffered a lot, but we have to be docile to the Holy Spirit, to God’s plans; He always repays with the hundredfold. And so it was. In what sense? Today, our educative experience goes on in other forms. Since 1997, the monastery has been a center for retreats and courses on Lectio Divina and on monastic culture. For some years now, we have had an iconography workshop, directed by Giovanni Mezzalira. We also have a group of lay oblates, adults, some of whom are married, who are linked to the community, with the promise of following the Rule of St Benedict. Now our educative experience is directed towards adults. I repeat, it’s enough to be docile to God’s plan. You can’t imagine the number of people, even those far from the faith, who knock on our door. In a de-Christianized world like the one we live in, there is a search for spirituality, at times a confused search for meaning, for direction in life. They come to us, attracted perhaps by the climate of silence, and they don’t understand the difference between Christian silence and the silence of the Eastern religions. In those cases, it’s a question of accepting them and leading them towards the truth. How does this happen? A serious person realizes that a vague search for God puts one before nothingness. But it is precisely in that moment that the community comes to meet him and reveals to him through the word of God and through prayer, through the Eucharist, but above all through community life, that there is an answer to his desire for happiness. In the perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, they find themselves face to face with a presence that is far beyond any form of New Age. It is with the person of Christ that you have to contend. One last question. How did your monastic vocation come to maturity? (She smiles.) Now that really is the mystery of mysteries. I was studying philosophy at the Catholic University. I had really great teachers, like Bontadini. As a seventeen-year-old with a good dose of the spirit of contradiction, I started to study at the State University. It took just a few super-abstract lessons for me to come back to the fold and to appreciate the teaching of those great masters. I remember a group of youngsters who enjoyed studying Christian philosophy as the construction of their own personally. It was the contact with the great figures of Christian thought, but above all a journey of prayer, that brought to maturity in me the vocation to Benedictine life. I came to this monastery almost by chance. I had heard talk of the centrality of the Eucharist, and I understood at once that that was the place of my vocation. Today, I can say that I have not yet finished discovering the beauty of the Rule of St Benedict. You never finish discovering the gift of the monastic vocation, which opens you to God and to the world. Before, the “door” was the school, which offered an educational dialogue with the students. Now, the communicative dimension is expressed in monastic formation, in the relationship with the novices, or in the various meetings the Lord proposes to us every day.