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Some first reactions to the “Letter to the Fraternity” written by Fr Giussani in June

Francesco Cossiga
Former President of Italy
In his letter of June 22, 2003, to the Fraternity of Communion and Liberation, Luigi Giussani continues his intelligent, not abstract, but pastoral work of theological teaching, which speaks to both the heart and the mind of the transcendence and “fleshliness” of the Revelation and Redemption, beyond any “enlightenment”-type scheme or form of pious devotion. Thus, the focus is on the Motherhood of God, which took concrete form in space and time in the Motherhood of Jesus Christ in Mary, and what in it the proclamation of this dogma by the Council of Nicaea intended to mean: the divinity of Jesus Christ not only in Jesus the Logos, but also in Jesus the Man, and the unity of the two natures, divine and human, in one sole human-divine person who binds, for all Eternity, the Eternal to time and thus the Eternal to history, the Infinite to the finite, and in this way guarantees the resurrection of man in his entirety. Only the virginity of Mary could be the unique method of incarnation of the Logos. If He were the son of one human seed and of a woman whose fertility was tied to a partial, individual “fleshliness,” Jesus would not have been able to unite in one sole person the divine nature of the Logos, spiritual and eternal, spiritualizing and eternalizing in Christ a flesh that, not the fruit of just one seed, is the “universal,” so to speak, “flesh” of mankind, which all in Christ will resurrect men on their earth, will recognize new heavens in itself; it will resurrect men in their time and in their history, which together will expand into the Eternal. This is the sense and the meaning of Mary’s virginity: an “event” that is not a “truth of the philosophers,” but an historical event to be accepted with Faith.

Luigi Accattoli
Vatican expert for Corriere della Sera
I read Fr Giussani’s powerful words, and my mind goes back to his blessed 80 years. These reflections arise: he does not cease–at his age–thinking about Christ’s humanity and seeking familiarity with Him. Every time he sets himself to this task, he searches for new words to communicate what he has contemplated, and he always offers to accompany his friends along that road. He meditates, communicates, and offers companionship to whoever is listening. Traces readers know this pedagogy better than I. My words as an outsider can help them to view it again with the eyes of someone who is, as it were, discovering it now. In so many of Giussani’s pages, and in these to be sure, one can perceive the fascination and toil of someone thinking about something that has not yet been fully thought out–for example, where he says that God is the measure of desire. He lets himself be prompted to the task by lines from Dante. But we know that any provocation would be sufficient for him, because he never settles down into the already thought. It is his way of staying young.

Sadahiro Tomoko
Assistant to the Bishop of Hiroshima (Japan)
The Buddhist world seeks harmony. The “I” disappears into the harmonious sea like a drop of water; this statement describes our culture. This is the way we live. A very lively Buddhist friend of mine (in my opinion, her religious sense is vivid) told me one day about another friend. There was something to argue about, but to avoid an argument, she humbled herself. When I hear this word, “humility,” I think of Our Lady, who in her humility affirmed the Other. My friend’s humility, on the other hand, comes from an effort of hers; it is moralism. Even among Christians, many times there is this moralistic position that says we have to be good. I am Japanese, and I have this mentality inside me. At times, I give in to it, but the Christian companionship I have encountered in the Movement reawakens me to live more fully. Today, it is easy to let oneself be influenced by the mass media; this too is an annihilation of the “I.” So many Japanese do not realize this.

Marco Politi
Vatican expert for la Repubblica
A few reflections, dictated above all by the sensations of my mind…
In the contemporary world, marked for the first time by an authentic achieved universality, it is right and fitting to realize that there are a number of religious “events” which have profoundly changed the course of history. Mohammed’s preaching and the journey of Gautama toward ascesis have set in motion the hearts and destinies of hundreds of millions, not just for one season but for a succession of eras, in a dynamic that still lasts today. Christianity does not live in the desert; it does not operate in the midst of idols. It grows and breathes in the midst of millions of other hearts inspired by a religion (or the ethic of a philosophy). This is not something to be taken lightly. Nor is it an invitation to make everything relative, or to homogenize or mix everything together under the banner of syncretism. On the contrary, perhaps it is the sign of a vitality on the part of creation which has to be taken into account, and perhaps also of an absolute freedom of the divine to leave His signs how, where, and when He wishes. The idea of God’s freedom, His absolute freedom, is perhaps a concept that has to be rethought in depth, one that has to be reworked without fear, that has to be digested, I would almost say, without preconceptions. Isn’t it perhaps the case that over the centuries, too often God’s freedom has been viewed only within the lines laid out for it by man? These are the reflections of a layman, fully aware of the fact that the mystery of the divine and the search for the divine are an inescapable part of the journey of men and women through history. Thus, it is something that concerns everybody, something that everyone is called to discuss in the agora of the world. What, then, distinguishes the “event of Christ” from the rest? What makes it unique with respect to the others? I believe it is that astonishing fleshliness, to which Fr Giussani refers, echoing in amazement the lines from Dante. This amazement hits every one of us, grabbed by the poet’s power. It is this fleshliness, so real, so touchable, so full which–paraphrasing Fr Giussani– not only makes creation totally “acceptable to man, offered to man,” but at the same time makes creation totally worthy of hosting the Spirit. This is a powerful concept, a powerful motor for acting in a religious and human sense. But since evil is in any case a part of our daily lives–and it acts, how it acts!–it is necessary for any spiritual intuition and afflatus to take flesh in a “doing” that is inserted into history, into current events, into public and private life. Yes, charity has every right to be and must be considered the only form of morality. Didn’t Paul in his time indicate it as the supreme hallmark? I know well, I believe everyone of us knows, how the words love and charity have been worn out by a sickly-sweet usage they do not deserve. So I would say that the living fountain of hope is entrusted for all, believers and those who believe differently, to a demanding imperative: to be humane with every human being.

Adrianus Simonis
Archbishop of Utrecht, Primate of Holland
The depth of thought of pure contemplation of the Mystery, which Msgr Giussani’s latest “Letter to the Fraternity” of CL imposes, is clear. This is not a commentary, but the immediate impression suggested to me by his words: they are a hymn to the core of the faith, of the Catholic faith, which finds its pivotal point in the Incarnation. For faith in the Incarnation holds together the paradox–rather, the many paradoxes–which only the historical fact of Christ overcomes, in the sense that Christ embraces them. By paradox, I mean an apparent contradiction between two terms. The first paradox is the one between Being, which is all, and the apparent nothingness of reality. From this perspective, his letter is admirable in avoiding today’s dual peril, nihilism and pantheism. For Being and reality cannot be disjoined, and yet they do not merge. The second paradox, I would say, concerns freedom, which has always been so dear to Fr Giussani. It is surprising how he renews the most beautiful tradition of the Church: that God chooses to subject His freedom to man’s freedom. And yet, this bond placed by the Mystery allows both God and His creature to be affirmed for what they are. And thus I would come to the motherhood of Virginity, to Mary a mother because she is daughter, to the root of the paradox of Catholic faith. The “least” of Christians is the presence of an “alter Christus.” He does not identify with Christ and yet Christ identifies with him. What I am saying is not intended as a speculative comment, but a first reaction to a text that in an admirable–albeit demanding–way makes reason compulsive and exalts it. It really seems that the task of Msgr Giussani and his growing number of friends is confirmed, which is to regenerate thought on the strength of the Christian Event. A providential path is opened for liberating faith from its reduction to morality. Only in this way can the Church go back to being a vital fact among and for men.

Yordanis
High school teacher (Cuba)
“ And here below, among mortals, you are the living fountain of hope.” There is nothing more concrete for a people resting on nothingness, whose roots sink down into nothingness, than the gaze of Our Virgin Mother. This is the model, the human, in its fullness. The greatest revolution is this: to accept being. To live life as the loving gift of an Other, attentive to every hint of what is “apparent,” following reality with lively interest and embracing it in every instant. A people needs this face (Our Lady), the presence of the Mother who carries it in her arms, educates it, and physically accompanies it. It needs Her presence in the concrete face of a friend, because this is the method: the flesh. We are together in order to educate each other to this.

Carlo Caffarra
Archbishop of Ferrara-Comacchio (Italy)
I felt the dizziness of freedom when I read these lines, which echo the first great Mariological page of the Christian Tradition, written by Irenaeus. The dizziness of freedom, because these pages reveal its seriousness: the seriousness of the “I” that “must be continually exalted by a rebirth of reality.” They are pages that can free us of the pseudo-exaltation of man that seduces with the falseness of a freedom that claims to establish the truth of being. Virginity in the Pauline sense of the “undivided heart” is the prophecy of perfect freedom. Meditating on these pages, we understand that virginity is the real symbol of Mary’s freedom, exalted in the humility of her obedience, and that obedience is the “emblem” of Mary’s freedom, expressed visibly in her virginity-maternity: “fixed goal of the eternal counsel.”

Giovanni Ungarelli
Chief Executive Officer, Marietti Publishers
Dearest Fr Giussani: It is very hot, but reading and rereading your letter of June 22nd to the Fraternity, every discomfort that disturbs our daily life passes into the background. I read it many more times than the Patriarch of Venice, Archbishop Angelo Scola, and I am convinced that what we have here is an extraordinary event. These are seven points of the greatest importance, that you cannot leave just in the form of announcements. Every topic you treated needs to be supported, because such extraordinary (I know I am repeating myself) reflections have to be expanded by you so that we can better understand their importance. I was thunderstruck by your few parenthetical words on the Trinity: “The essence of the Trinity is the Three who love each other.” Writing this, you have added mystery to mystery for me, because first you separate them (the Three), then you join them in love, in that infinite love that becomes charity.
Fr Giussani, thank you again for everything you give me. Regards.

Robert Fawcett
A Protestant student, Evansville (Indiana)
When I read Father Giussani’s letter, I was struck by this: “Our Lady establishes the Christian personality.” I look at Mary in Scriptures, especially at the Annunciation, and I see that she freely chose to say yes. The choice was unhindered by her Virginity that she was given. She exercised her full freedom and as a result she obeyed. Mary was confronted with something bigger than herself. This confrontation resonated within her. Mary gave the ultimate yes: “Be it done to me according to Thy word.”
When I say yes, I agree and I follow someone or something that moves me and resonates within me. A friend of mine named Brandon Robards has helped me so much in my life because he loves me and most of all he loves my freedom. I stay with him because he provokes me and challenges me. I follow this man just like Mary followed Christ. The reason why I follow is because I love him. I am amazed by this man; he works, and on top of that he does volunteer work. He has a wife and two kids, yet he still finds time for me. He is an evangelical Protestant, he is not a part of CL, yet he lives the charism of CL.
As an evangelical, I look to the Scriptures for guidance. Mary is an example to me; I see that in Scriptures but also in the flesh she obeyed and followed. As a Christian, I want to do the best that I can to emulate this obedience.

John G. Vlazny
Archbishop of Portland (Oregon)
At La Thuile 2003, in the company of dear friends from CL, I more consciously, yet still unsteadily, stood with the Madonna, together in our lowliness, before the exalting and benign gaze of the Almighty. Like Mary at the message of the angel, I too was moved by the Infinite and reborn in faith through God’s tender mercy. Jesus, the Holy Child in her womb, had reached out to me through that marvelous company in song, prayer, companionship, and sharing.
It became so clear how Mary has respected God’s freedom through her obedience to His call. We often say, “God’s ways are not our ways.” I prayed that somehow my life too might matter for God and for others through my own filial embrace of His way, so beautifully and freely modeled for people of all ages and places by Mary. Veni Sancte Spiritus, veni per Mariam!

John McCarthy
Associate Professor, School of Philosophy at the Catholic University of America, Washington, DC
The writings of philosophers usually strike us as horribly “abstract,” and never more so than when philosophy becomes “metaphysics.” Abstraction is not in itself a bad thing, of course: mathematics or cooking, for example, would otherwise be impossible. When we judge a piece of philosophical writing to be abstract, on the other hand, we are, in effect, pronouncing it a failure. For we are saying that it has overlooked something important, neglected something essential. Doubtless, many philosophers have often failed in just this way. Even so, metaphysics has always aspired to be the most concrete science, indeed the most down to earth human activity, because it means to leave nothing unaccounted for, nothing behind. Metaphysics seeks to understand and so embrace everything that is, precisely for what it is. Such ambition would either be laughable or pathetic were the philosopher not acutely aware of his own limits, beginning with the manifest fact that not even his own existence, his own being, is within his control. Moreover, and as Msgr Giussani has often reminded us, the strange metaphysical aspirations of the philosophers are a signal expression of the desire for truth at work in every human being, philosopher or not.
When I first read Msgr Giussani’s letter to the Fraternity, I confess that I was, like everyone else I know, rendered mute by my incomprehension. I also had to fight off the temptation to dismiss it as excessively abstract, however. Only in remembering that it was not to be read alone (abstractly!), but in the company of friends, and even or especially with friends I have never met, did I begin to contend seriously with its obvious density and concision.
After many readings, what remains clear to me above all else is how far I am from having really understood Msgr Giussani’s words to us, much less begun to live them. Yet it is not my defects that prevail when I reread the letter. What most strikes me, rather, is Fr Giussani’s humble audacity, or better, his audacious humility. He is not at all afraid to use the demanding language of metaphysics (“Being”, “nature”). And with what certainty he does so!
But more remarkable still is his daring identification of “Being” and “Virginity.” What philosopher–indeed, what theologian–has ever said such a thing? Yet it is surely only his humility that allows him to be so bold. Who but a fully grown child could speak with such confidence and such tenderness about the Virgin Mother of the whole creation?
I do not want to suggest, though, that it is his vigorous intelligence that moves me most about Msgr Giussani’s letter. Each time I return to it, what stands out for me is the extraordinary spirit of paternity that animates it. His desire to include each one of us in his hymn to the Mother of Creator God is apparent in every line; and to include us not only as “objects” of his prayer, but also as its “subjects,” that is, as fully active participants with him in its work of generation. On that account, I am rendered mute a second time, only now with a gratitude I cannot adequately express.