Growing hearts, break

God seems to be gifting me with a heart, a terrifying thing, since hearts only grow as they break. And God only gives such hearts as the beginnings of bigger things God wants to do.

James Alison

Purity out of mud

Found two lilies open in the very shallow inlet of the meadow. Exquisitely beautiful, and unlike anything else we have, is the first white Lily just expanded in some shallow lagoon where the water is leaving it, - perfectly fresh and pure, before the insects have discovered it.

How admirable its purity! How innocently sweet its fragrance! How significant that the rich, black mud of our dead stream produces the water-lily, - out of that fertile slime springs this spotless purity! It is remarkable that those flowers which are most emblematical of purity should grow in the mud.

Henry David Thoreau 

Beautiful, Beautiful - Francesca Battistelli

Don’t know how it is You looked at me
And saw the person that I could be
Awakening my heart
Breaking through the dark

Suddenly Your grace

(Chorus)
Like sunlight burning at midnight
Making my life something so
Beautiful, beautiful
Mercy reaching to save me
All that I need
You are so
Beautiful, beautiful

Now there’s a joy inside I can’t contain
But even perfect days can end in rain
And though it’s pouring down
I see You through the clouds
Shining on my face

(Chorus)

I have come undone
But I have just begun
Changing by Your grace

(Chorus)

Message of Pope Benedict XVI for the 49th World Day of Prayer for Vocations

29 APRIL 2012 FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Theme: Vocations, the Gift of the Love of God

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

The 49th World Day of Prayer for Vocations, which will be celebrated on 29 April 2012, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, prompts us to meditate on the theme: Vocations, the Gift of the Love of God.

The source of every perfect gift is God who is Love – Deus caritas est: “Whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him” (1 Jn 4:16). Sacred Scripture tells the story of this original bond between God and man, which precedes creation itself. Writing to the Christians of the city of Ephesus, Saint Paul raises a hymn of gratitude and praise to the Father who, with infinite benevolence, in the course of the centuries accomplishes his universal plan of salvation, which is a plan of love. In his Son Jesus – Paul states – “he chose us, before the foundation of the world, to be holy and without blemish before him in love” (Eph 1:4). We are loved by God even “before” we come into existence! Moved solely by his unconditional love, he created us “not … out of existing things” (cf. 2 Macc 7:28), to bring us into full communion with Him.

In great wonderment before the work of God’s providence, the Psalmist exclaims: “When I see the heavens, the work of your hands, the moon and the stars which you arranged, what is man that you should keep him in mind, mortal man that you care for him?” (Ps 8:3-4). The profound truth of our existence is thus contained in this surprising mystery: every creature, and in particular every human person, is the fruit of God’s thought and an act of his love, a love that is boundless, faithful and everlasting (cf. Jer 31:3). The discovery of this reality is what truly and profoundly changes our lives. In a famous page of the Confessions, Saint Augustine expresses with great force his discovery of God, supreme beauty and supreme love, a God who was always close to him, and to whom he at last opened his mind and heart to be transformed: “Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new, late have I loved you! You were within me, but I was outside, and it was there that I searched for you. In my unloveliness I plunged into the lovely things which you created. You were with me, but I was not with you. Created things kept me from you; yet if they had not been in you they would have not been at all. You called, you shouted, and you broke through my deafness. You flashed, you shone, and you dispelled my blindness. You breathed your fragrance on me; I drew in breath and now I pant for you. I have tasted you, now I hunger and thirst for more. You touched me, and I burned for your peace.” (X, 27.38). With these images, the Saint of Hippo seeks to describe the ineffable mystery of his encounter with God, with God’s love that transforms all of life.

It is a love that is limitless and that precedes us, sustains us and calls us along the path of life, a love rooted in an absolutely free gift of God. Speaking particularly of the ministerial priesthood, my predecessor, Blessed John Paul II, stated that “every ministerial action - while it leads to loving and serving the Church - provides an incentive to grow in ever greater love and service of Jesus Christ the head, shepherd and spouse of the Church, a love which is always a response to the free and unsolicited love of God in Christ” (Pastores Dabo Vobis, 25). Every specific vocation is in fact born of the initiative of God; it is a gift of the Love of God! He is the One who takes the “first step”, and not because he has found something good in us, but because of the presence of his own love “poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit” (Rom 5:5).

In every age, the source of the divine call is to be found in the initiative of the infinite love of God, who reveals himself fully in Jesus Christ. As I wrote in my first Encyclical, Deus Caritas Est, “God is indeed visible in a number of ways. In the love-story recounted by the Bible, he comes towards us, he seeks to win our hearts, all the way to the Last Supper, to the piercing of his heart on the Cross, to his appearances after the Resurrection and to the great deeds by which, through the activity of the Apostles, he guided the nascent Church along its path. Nor has the Lord been absent from subsequent Church history: he encounters us ever anew, in the men and women who reflect his presence, in his word, in the sacraments, and especially in the Eucharist” (No. 17).

The love of God is everlasting; he is faithful to himself, to the “word that he commanded for a thousand generations” (Ps 105:8). Yet the appealing beauty of this divine love, which precedes and accompanies us, needs to be proclaimed ever anew, especially to younger generations. This divine love is the hidden impulse, the motivation which never fails, even in the most difficult circumstances.

Dear brothers and sisters, we need to open our lives to this love. It is to the perfection of the Father’s love (cf. Mt 5:48) that Jesus Christ calls us every day! The high standard of the Christian life consists in loving “as” God loves; with a love that is shown in the total, faithful and fruitful gift of self. Saint John of the Cross, writing to the Prioress of the Monastery of Segovia who was pained by the terrible circumstances surrounding his suspension, responded by urging her to act as God does: “Think nothing else but that God ordains all, and where there is no love, put love, and there you will draw out love” (Letters, 26).

It is in this soil of self-offering and openness to the love of God, and as the fruit of that love, that all vocations are born and grow. By drawing from this wellspring through prayer, constant recourse to God’s word and to the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, it becomes possible to live a life of love for our neighbours, in whom we come to perceive the face of Christ the Lord (cf. Mt 25:31-46). To express the inseparable bond that links these “two loves” – love of God and love of neighbour – both of which flow from the same divine source and return to it, Pope Saint Gregory the Great uses the metaphor of the seedling: “In the soil of our heart God first planted the root of love for him; from this, like the leaf, sprouts love for one another.” (Moralium Libri, sive expositio in Librum B. Job, Lib. VII, Ch. 24, 28; PL 75, 780D).

These two expressions of the one divine love must be lived with a particular intensity and purity of heart by those who have decided to set out on the path of vocation discernment towards the ministerial priesthood and the consecrated life; they are its distinguishing mark. Love of God, which priests and consecrated persons are called to mirror, however imperfectly, is the motivation for answering the Lord’s call to special consecration through priestly ordination or the profession of the evangelical counsels. Saint Peter’s vehement reply to the Divine Master: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you” (Jn 21:15) contains the secret of a life fully given and lived out, and thus one which is deeply joyful.

The other practical expression of love, that towards our neighbour, and especially those who suffer and are in greatest need, is the decisive impulse that leads the priest and the consecrated person to be a builder of communion between people and a sower of hope. The relationship of consecrated persons, and especially of the priest, to the Christian community is vital and becomes a fundamental dimension of their affectivity. The Curé of Ars was fond of saying: “Priests are not priests for themselves, but for you” (Le cure d’Ars. Sa pensée – Son cœur, Foi Vivante, 1966, p. 100).

Dear brother bishops, dear priests, deacons, consecrated men and women, catechists, pastoral workers and all of you who are engaged in the field of educating young people: I fervently exhort you to pay close attention to those members of parish communities, associations and ecclesial movements who sense a call to the priesthood or to a special consecration. It is important for the Church to create the conditions that will permit many young people to say “yes” in generous response to God’s loving call.

The task of fostering vocations will be to provide helpful guidance and direction along the way. Central to this should be love of God’s word nourished by a growing familiarity with sacred Scripture, and attentive and unceasing prayer, both personal and in community; this will make it possible to hear God’s call amid all the voices of daily life. But above all, the Eucharist should be the heart of every vocational journey: it is here that the love of God touches us in Christ’s sacrifice, the perfect expression of love, and it is here that we learn ever anew how to live according to the “high standard” of God’s love. Scripture, prayer and the Eucharist are the precious treasure enabling us to grasp the beauty of a life spent fully in service of the Kingdom.

It is my hope that the local Churches and all the various groups within them, will become places where vocations are carefully discerned and their authenticity tested, places where young men and women are offered wise and strong spiritual direction. In this way, the Christian community itself becomes a manifestation of the Love of God in which every calling is contained. As a response to the demands of the new commandment of Jesus, this can find eloquent and particular realization in Christian families, whose love is an expression of the love of Christ who gave himself for his Church (cf. Eph 5:32). Within the family, “a community of life and love” (Gaudium et Spes, 48), young people can have a wonderful experience of this self-giving love. Indeed, families are not only the privileged place for human and Christian formation; they can also be “the primary and most excellent seed-bed of vocations to a life of consecration to the Kingdom of God” (Familiaris Consortio, 53), by helping their members to see, precisely within the family, the beauty and the importance of the priesthood and the consecrated life. May pastors and all the lay faithful always cooperate so that in the Church these “homes and schools of communion” may multiply, modelled on the Holy Family of Nazareth, the harmonious reflection on earth of the life of the Most Holy Trinity.

With this prayerful hope, I cordially impart my Apostolic Blessing to all of you: my brother bishops, priests, deacons, religious men and women and all lay faithful, and especially those young men and women who strive to listen with a docile heart to God’s voice and are ready to respond generously and faithfully.

From the Vatican, 18 October 2011

BENEDICTUS PP. XVI

A Beautiful God

Ah, gentle God, if Thou art so lovely in Thy creatures, how exceedingly beautiful and ravishing Thou must be in Thyself!... Praise and honour be to the unfathomable immensity that is in Thee!

Henry Suso

Dust in the Wind

I close my eyes
Only for a moment, then the momen't gone
All my dreams
Pass before my eyes, in curiosity
Dust in the wind
All they are is dust in the wind 


Same old song
Just a drop of water in an endless sea
All we do
Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind, ohh


Now, don't hang on
Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky
It slips away
And all your money won't another minute buy


Dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind
All we are is dust in the wind Dust in the wind
Everything is dust in the wind 
Everything is dust in the wind

La Mia Terra - Nomadi

Madre 
Adesso che ho passato il mare, 
Ricordati di pregare 
appena puoi 
Ora 
che ho lasciato la mia nave ora 
Ho nel cuore una parola sola 
ed e' per te 
Nel tuo bacio il mio pensiero vola 
Ho paura e non ho fiato in gola 
Faccio a pugni con la mia coscienza 
senza te


Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Ricomincia un'altra storia 
La mia sorte il mio destino 
La mia stella il mio cammino 
Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Ricomincia un'altra storia 
Ho negli occhi il mio destino 
Madre prega anche per me 


Madre 
Adesso che ho passato il mare 
Regalami un coraggio forte 
come il tuo 
Ora 
che ho lasciato la mia nave ora 
Ho nel cuore una parola sola 
ed e' per te 
La tua voce mi riscalda ancora 
Del tuo abbraccio avrei bisogno ora 
Faccio i conti con la tua saggezza 
senza te 


Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Ricomincia un'altra storia 
La mia sorte il mio destino 
La mia stella il mio cammino 
Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Vado incontro alla mia storia 
Nascondendomi nel buio 
Madre abbracciami 


Respiro l'aria fresca 
Fremito di rabbia dentro di me 
Nei piedi solo fretta 
piango ma non passa 
Prega per me 


Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Ricomincia un'altra storia 
La mia sorte il mio destino 
La mia stella il mio cammino 
Da che parte e' la mia terra 
Dentro il cuore la memoria 
E negli occhi il mio destino 
Madre abbracciami 

Loving Christ

When You have loved [Him], You shall be chaste;
when You have touched [Him], You shall become pure;
when You have accepted [Him], You shall be a virgin.
Whose power is stronger,
Whose generosity is more abundant,
Whose appearance more beautiful,
Whose love more tender,
Whose courtesy more gracious.
In Whose embrace You are already caught up;
Who has adorned Your breast with precious stones
And has placed priceless pearls in Your ears
and has surrounded You with sparkling gems
as though blossoms of springtime
and placed on Your head a golden crown
as a sign [to all] of Your holiness.

Chiara of Assisi

Union of God with the soul

The union of God with the soul is so great that it is scarcely to be believed. And God is in himself so far above that no form of knowledge or desire can ever reach him... Desire is deep, immeasurably  so. But nothing that the intellect can grasp and nothing that desire can desire is God. Where understanding and desire end, there is darkness and there God's radiance begins.

Meister Eckhart

Only at Night we see the stars

The cross, especially one of prolonged suffering, is one of the greatest gifts that God can send us. Immersed in that suffering, as though transported into the darkness above the atmosphere, our vision of the vast universe is made clearer.

When the cross is lacking, we may easily mistake fireflies for stars. We might think that all we do is in God’s service, compatible with and even useful for his glory, but all the while we cater to our own ego and vanity. As a result, we offer God a life that mixes smoke with incense.

When, on the other hand, suffering comes to visit us and stays for a long time, we might understand the saints’ words that speak of a life away from the limelight, of self-denial and of authenticity before God and our fellow human beings.

Such a realization can be so strong as to cause one even to offer acts of gratitude to the One who permits suffering.

The cross certainly brings us to the right path and is the guarantee that the roots of our life are expanding: the sign of new beauty about to blossom.

And we start to realize that the beatitudes are not merely promises or encouragements but a reality. One who weeps can really find blessings in this very weeping. It is a true beatitude, though not yet the one to come in eternity.

Chiara Lubich

Abandonment in God

If God were to show a soul all the suffering that life has in store for it, the soul would die on the spot. If God were to show a soul all the joys it would experience in life, it would die on the spot. God knows this, and he measures things accordingly. The soul does not know, but it abandons itself in God who loves it.


Chiara Lubich

Intrattenersi col cielo

Osservate più spesso le stelle. Quando avrete un peso sull'animo, guardate le stelle o l'azzurro del cielo. Quando vi sentirete tristi, quando vi offenderanno, quando qualcosa non vi riuscirà, quando la tempesta si scatenerà nel vostro animo, uscite all'aria aperta e intrattenetevi, da soli, col cielo. Allora la vostra anima troverà la quiete.

Pavel Florenskij

Never Enough of You!

The more I enter, the more I find, and the more I find the more I seek of Thee. Thou art the Food that never satiates, for when the soul is satiated, but every continues to hunger and thirst for Thee.

Catherine of Siena

Celebrating the Cosmos

I, the fiery life of divine essence, am aflame beyond the beauty of the meadows. I gleam in the waters. I burn in the sun, moon, and stars. With every breeze, as with invisible life that contains everything, I awaken everything to life.

I am the breeze that nurtures all things green. I encourage blossoms to flourish with ripening fruits. I am the rain coming from the dew that causes the grasses to laugh with the joy of life.

Hildegard of Bingen

Mysticism of darkness

If you should ask how these things come about, question grace, not instruction; desire, not intellect; the cry of prayer, not pursuit of study; the spouse, not the teacher; God, not man; darkness, not clarity; not light, but the wholly flaming fire which will bear you aloft to God with fullest unction and burning affection.

Bonaventure

I no longer live, but Christ lives in me

To lose yourself, as if you no longer existed, to cease completely to experience yourself, to reduce yourself to nothing is no a human sentiment but a divine experience.... It is deifying to go through such an experience. As a drop of water seems to disappear completely in a big quantity of wine, even assuming the wine's taste and colour, just as red, molten iron becomes so much like fire it seems to lose its primary state; just as the air on a sunny day seems transformed into a sunshine instead of being lit up; so it is necessary for the saints that all human feelings melt in a mysterious way and flow into the will of God. Otherwise, how will God be all in all if something human survives in man?

Bernard of Clairvaux

The Monastery

God is All - Let's not try to fit Him in our narrow minds!

What art Thou then, my God? 


Most highest, most good, 
most potent, most omnipotent; 
most merciful and most just; 
most hidden and most present; 
most beautiful and most strong, 
standing firm and elusive, 
unchangeable and all-changing; 
never new, never old; 


Ever working, ever at rest; 
gathering in and [yet] lacking nothing; 
supporting, filling, and sheltering;
creating, nourishing, and maturing; 
seeking and [yet] having all things. 


And what have I now said, my God, my life, my holy joy? 
or what says any man when he speaks of Thee? 
And woe to him who keeps silent about you, 
since many babble on and say nothing.


Augustine

You are Beautiful... You are the honour of our people!

Tota pulchra es, Maria,
et macula originalis non est in te.
Tu gloria Jerusalem,
tu laetitia Israel,
tu honorificentia populi nostri.
Tu advocata peccatorum,
O Maria, Virgo prudentissima,
Mater clementissima,
ora pro nobis
ad Dominum Jesum Christum.


Thou art all-lovely, O Mary,
and in thee there is no stain.
Thou art the glory of Jerusalem,
Thou art the joy of Israel,
Thou art the honour of our people.
Thou art the advocate of sinners,
O Mary, Virgin most prudent,
Mother most clement,
pray for us
to our Lord Jesus Christ.

I sought but did not find Him... When the Madre complains!

On my bed, at night, I sought him
whom my heart loves.
I sought but did not find him.


So I will rise and go through the City;
in the streets and the squares
I will seek him whom my heart loves.
... I sought him but did not find him.

Well, then, God! Is it not enough for you to let me stay in this miserable life that I bear for the love of you, accepting to live here where everything prevents me from enjoying you, where I have to drink and sleep, and negotiate and deal with the world, as well as bear everything for the love of you? You well know, my Lord, what a tremendous torment this is for me. Must you also hide yourself in the rare moments that are left for me to enjoy you? How can your mercy tolerate this? How can your love for me accept this? I believe, Lord, that if it were possible for me to hide myself from you as you hide yourself from me, I believe, I think, that your love for me would not tolerate it. You are with me and you always see me. This is unbearable, my Lord; I beg you to consider that you are hurting one who loves you so much.

Teresa of Avila

Return!

Before the dawn wind rises,
before the shadows flee,
return! Be, my Beloved,
like a gazelle,
a young stag, 
on the mountains of the covenant.

Who will enlighten for me the mysteries of these ups and downs and explain to me the comings and goings of the Word?... The Word of God, who is God himself and the Bridegroom of the soul, comes to the soul, then leaves it at whim... One can seek him only when he is absent and call him back at the moment he goes away...

Once the Word of God is gone and until he comes back, the soul has only one voice, one continuous cry, a restless desire, a perpetual 'come back'... Perhaps the Bridegroom has left on purpose so that it can call him with more fervor and retain him better when he comes back? It did happen in fact, on a certain day, that he feigned a departure not because he had decided to go but to hear it say: 'Stay with us, Lord for evening is coming'... He wants it to hold him back when he passes by and to call him back when he is absent. He visits the soul at daybreak; then tries it by suddenly withdrawing. And if he goes away, this too is a way of giving himself... I confess, not without some indiscretion, that I have thus received the visit of the Word several times. And if he entered often into my soul I did not feel it each time. I felt his presence, I remember it; and,  at times, I was able to foresee his coming; but never have I had a precise awareness of his entering or going out;... no motion on his part announced his arrival... Yes, here is the sign of his departure: my soul is irresistibly seized with sadness until he comes back, and each time he warns my sou., which is the mark of his return... As long as I shall live, I will use in a familiar way to call him back this very phrase of the Bride: 'return!' And each time he escapes me, I will repeat this call. I will not cease to cry, as it were, after him, to proclaim the desire my heart has for him... I beg him to come back full of grace and truth, i.e., as he always is, as he was yesterday. In this he seems to me to resemble very much the gazelle and the stag: he has the eyes of a gazelle and the grace and joyful leaps of a stag."

Bernard of Clairvaux

Living nowhere

He or she is a mystic who cannot stop walking and, with the certainty of what is lacking, knows of every place and object that it is not that; one cannot stay there nor be content with that. Desire creates an excess. Places are exceeded, passed, lost behind it. It makes one go further, elsewhere. It lives nowhere.

Michel de Certeau

God at the heart of continuous change

He is such a fast God,
always before us and
leaving as we arrive.

R.S. Thomas 

La dernière place

LT 243 - A soeur Geneviève.
J.M.J.T.


 7 Juin 1897

Petite soeur 

bien-aimée, ne recherchons jamais ce qui paraît grand aux yeux des créatures.

 Salomon, le roi le plus sage qui fut jamais sur la terre, ayant considéré les différents travaux qui occupent les hommes sous le soleil, la peinture, la sculpture, tous les arts, comprit que toutes ces choses étaient soumises à l'envie, il s'écria qu'elles ne sont au vanité et affliction d'esprit !...

La seule chose qui ne soit point enviée c'est la dernière place, il n'y a donc que cette dernière place qui ne soit point vanité et affliction d'esprit...

Cependant «la voie de l'homme n'est pas en son pouvoir» et parfois nous nous surprenons à désirer ce qui brille. Alors rangeons-nous humblement parmi les imparfaits, estimons-nous de petites âmes qu'il faut que le Bon Dieu soutienne à chaque instant ; dès qu'Il nous voit bien convaincues de notre néant il nous tend la main ; si nous voulons encore essayer de faire quelque chose de grand même sous prétexte de zèle, le Bon Jésus nous laisse seules. «Mais dès que j'ai dit: Mon pied a chancelé, votre miséricorde, Seigneur, m'a affermi!... Ps. xciii.» Oui, il suffit de s'humilier, de supporter avec douceur ses imperfections. Voilà la vraie sainteté ! Prenons-nous par la main, petite soeur chérie, et courons à la dernière place... personne ne viendra nous la disputer...

Sr Thérèse de l'Enfant Jésus et de la Ste Face 

Prayer of Abandonment

Father,
I abandon myself into your hands; do with me what you will.
Whatever you may do, I thank you:
I am ready for all, I accept all.
Let only your will be done in me, and in all your creatures.
I wish no more than this, O Lord. 


Into your hands I commend my soul;
I offer it to you
with all the love of my heart,
for I love you, Lord,
and so need to give myself,
to surrender myself into your hands,
without reserve,
and with boundless confidence,
for you are my Father. 


Charles de Foucald

Wound of Love

The wound made by an iron heated in the fire of love cannot be healed by any other medication except by the same cautery that made it and will cure it. Because each time the cautery of love touches the wound of love, it enlarges the wound, and, in this way, the more it wounds, the more it binds and heals. For the one who loves is all the more healthy in that he is distressed; and the cure brought by love is to distress and to add one wound on top of the other, and in the end the wound of love... Oh happy wound caused by the one who alone knows how to heal!

John of the Cross

Self-seeking love

As long as our will retains whims that are opposed to the divine union, fantasies of 'yes' or 'no', we remain children, we do not walk with the giant steps of love, for the fire has not yet burned the whole alloy, the gold is not pure, we are still seeking ourselves.

Van Ruysbroeck

Chi è l'uomo perché te ne ricordi

«Carissimi,

mi piacque a tal punto, che otto anni fa, quando lasciai la parrocchia, quella frase volli segnarla sul ricordino d’addio.

E’ il versetto sedici del capitolo quarantanove di Isaia.

“Non ti dimenticherò mai. – dice il Signore – Ecco, ti ho disegnato sulle palme delle mie mani”.

Oggi mi vergogno un po’ per aver riportato quella frase. Perché pian piano, a dispetto di tante promesse e con tutte le assicurazioni giurate di ricordi imperituri, mi sto dimenticando di tutti.

Quante volte riconosco un volto, ma non so più dargli un nome! E sento risuonare un nome dall’altro capo del telefono, ma non so più dargli un volto.

Dio, che tristezza! E’ una specie di oltraggio col contagocce che non risparmia né consolidate amicizie, né conoscenze diuturne.

Ma che volete, il tempo passa. Si sfilacciano perfino i lineamenti delle persone più care. Si sgretolano le identità. Nel gioco malinconico delle dissolvenze, le figure umane perdono i contorni. E poiché, come dice il proverbio, chiodo scaccia chiodo, i profili antichi cedono il posto senza pietà ad immagini più fresche. E’ vero che ogni tanto basta un richiamo per far emergere dal sottosuolo della coscienza brandelli di memorie, ma diventa così difficile connetterli tra loro, che non è raro esporsi al pericolo di mortificare o deludere qualcuno.

“Ciao Antonella, chi si rivede! Come stai?”.

“Sto bene. Grazie. Ma non sono Antonella, sono Maria Lucia. Non ti ricordi più?”.

“Già è vero! Ti confondevo con Antonella, la catechista dell’ultimo anno di cresima. Anzi, no: quella si chiamava Barbara, mi pare. Insomma, non importa… Tuo fratello gioca sempre nella squadra di pallavolo? Ah, che smemorato, tu non hai fratelli, ti scambiavo con la Paola”.

Scusami, Maria Lucia, se ti ho deluso.

E scusami anche se stasera, farai una smorfia di delusione, leggendo quella frase sul ricordino di otto anni fa, e non crederai più che io abbia scritto davvero il tuo nome sulle palme delle mie mani.

Però voglio dirti una cosa. Quella frase è vera.

Lo so, ho fatto male io ad appropriarmene, usurpando al Signore una finezza incompatibile con la mia ridicola grossolanità. Non dovevo proprio sottoscriverla, conoscendomi vittima delle più sconcertanti amnesie. Ma se al posto del mio autografo sciagurato, ci metti la firma di Dio, quella frase tornerà a splendere in tutta la sua sovrumana bellezza.

Non ti dimenticherò mai.

E’ lui che, questa frase, la ripete a te, a me, a tutti. Fin da quando siamo stati concepiti nel grembo materno.

Lui che, come dice il profeta Baruch, chiama le stelle per nome, ed esse gli rispondono “eccomi” brillando di gioia! Lui che non deposita negli archivi i nostri volti, ma li sottrae all’usura delle stagioni illuminandoli con la luce dei suoi occhi. Lui che non seppellisce i nostri nomi nel parco delle rimembranze, ma li evoca da uno ad uno dalla massa indistinta delle nebulose e, pronunciandoli, con la passione struggente dell’innamorato, li incide sulle rocce dei colli eterni…

Carissimi, sono convinto, che il credito della gente a tutti i nostri messaggi si misura proprio di qui. Dalla convinzione con cui faremo capire che nel vocabolario di Dio non esistono nomi collettivi. Che le persone, lui non le ama in serie. Che se per la civiltà informatica Gigi, uscito dal manicomio, è niente più che un “soffio” elettronico da immagazzinare nei dischi rigidi dei servizi sociali del comune, per il Signore rimane sempre un principe dell’universo. Che i massacri operati dalle violenze umane trovano sugli occhi di Dio lacrime per ognuno, e non pianti globali. Che nelle fosse comuni delle vittime della guerra, egli si aggira alla ricerca di sembianze inconfondibili su cui lasciare l’impronta di una carezza, e non per collocare piastrine di riconoscimento col numero di matricola. Che l’uccisione di un uomo prima ancora che nasca gli distrugge tra le mani un capolavoro irripetibile, a cui stava per dare l’ultimo tocco. Che l’incupirsi per fame di una sola creatura del Sahel gli dà più angoscia che l’oscurarsi di Sirio o l’affievolirsi delle Pleiadi. E che per i lividi sul volto di Maria, percossa dal marito ubriaco, si turba più di una madre per la febbre del suo unigenito.

Chi è l’uomo perché te ne ricordi?

La risposta forse la si può trovare accartocciata in quel viluppo di panni con cui Bartolo, la notte, si ripara dal freddo sotto il portale della chiesa.

Ai nostri occhi quei panni sembrano cenci che coprono membra fetide di sudore.

Agli occhi di Dio, invece, sono reliquiari che racchiudono frammenti di santità.

***

Dio non è un computer. Non è il grande magazziniere dei nostri nomi. E neppure l’archivista supremo che per ogni uomo allestisce un “dossier” riservato. Non è l’infallibile memorizzatore di fatti e misfatti, che poi, nel giorno del giudizio, egli userà come prove di merito o come capi d’imputazione nei nostri confronti.

Sarebbe veramente banale ridurre Dio al ruolo di controllore dei nostri “sgarri”, o al rango di banchiere dei nostri titoli di credito. Un Dio siffatto, che vesta l’abito del funzionario compiaciuto o che indossi la divisa del gendarme, è quanto di più allucinante si possa pensare.

Forse proprio per allontanare da noi un modo così sacrilego di concepire Dio, il salmo ottavo ci fa sapere che il Signore non solo si ricorda dell’uomo, ma si prende anche premura di lui: “Che cosa è l’uomo perché te ne ricordi e il figlio dell’uomo perché te ne curi?”.

Dio, dunque, si prende cura. E’ provvidente. Non gli basta darci un letto, ma la notte si alza per rimboccarci le coperte.

Ha solecitudine, insomma. E’ inquieto per noi. Si preoccupa. E non solo dell’uomo in generale, ma del singolo.

E’ straordinario tutto questo!

Io gli sto a cuore. Giovanni Paolo II gli sta a cuore. Ma anche Filippo gli sta a cuore. Filippo lo scansano tutti, perché ha l’alito pesante, sembra un cavernicolo, non si lava mai e passa la vita, taciturno, raccogliendo ferri vecchi.

Madre Teresa di Calcutta, premio Nobel per la pace, gli sta a cuore. Ma anche Maddalena gli sta a cuore, lei che di bello ha solo il nome e gli anni, con quel tanfo selvatico che si porta appresso, e con uno sfregio permanente sotto gli occhi, che la deturpa da quando suo padre la gettò nel fuoco bambina.

Gli sta a cuore Nicla, che ha vinto un concorso di fotomodella e sua madre la mostra a tutti sulle copertine dei rotocalchi. Ma gli sta a cuore anche Nella, che ha sposato un marocchino contro la volontà dei parenti, è stata messa fuori di casa, ora ha un bambino e, da più di un anno, l’interno di un’alfaromeo sgangherata le fa da cucina, da soggiorno e da talamo nuziale. Gli sta a cuore il “leader” negro che si batte per il riconoscimento dei diritti umani, parla alla televisione, e concede interviste ai più grandi giornali del mondo. Ma gli sta a cuore anche Sabel, piccolo bambino etiope dal ventre gonfio di fame, che trema come un cerbiatto spaurito, all’interno di una capanna, in attesa della morte.

Gli sta a cuore Jenny, che fa la serva in un “night” per camparsi la vita. Se ne fa carico. Ne segue, cioè, con preoccupazione la sorte. Non chiude occhio per lei. Così come non chiude occhio per quella madre salvadoregna che piange il figlio scomparso. Per quel vecchio vietnamita che vegeta da mesi nella stiva di un “boat people”. Per quel giovane indiano, che si aggira come un ebete tra le arterie di una metropoli europea, ha perso tutto, anche la memoria, e il suo nome ora è segnato solo sull’anagrafe del cielo.

Qualcuno potrebbe osservare che non c’è bisogno del salmo ottavo per sapere che Dio “si prende cura dell’uomo”, dal momento che tutta la Scrittura, dalla prima all’ultima parola, è attraversata da questo annuncio.

Giusto! L’osservazione è pertinente. La portata del messaggio di questo versetto, infatti, non è proclamare la premura di Dio, ma la grandezza dell’uomo. Non consiste nel rivelare la condiscendenza del Creatore, ma nell’esaltare il prestigio della creatura. Non si riduce a glorificare la tenerezza divina per ogni volto umano, ma punta a mettere in luce il fascino di questo volto, che riesce a stregare perfino il cuore di Dio: “Che cosa è l’uomo perché te ne ricordi e il figlio dell’uomo perché te ne curi?”

Un amico ateo, che avevo condotto con me al rito della professione religiosa di Francesca, una splendida ragazza di vent’anni che ognuno avrebbe voluto per sé come sposa, al ritorno mi disse in macchina: “Ma che cosa è questo vostro Dio per il quale una ragazza come quella si brucia la vita?”.

Stavo per rispondergli con la stessa domanda a termini invertiti, quando ho visto un vecchio che raspava nel cassettone della spazzatura, e, allora, sostituendo il nome di Francesca, gli ho replicato: “E che cosa è quel miserabile senza nome per il quale, stanne certo, Dio arde d’incredibile amore?”.

Era difficile dare una risposta.

Avrei voluto osservare che, comunque, una risposta l’avremmo potuta trovare nel Vangelo, in quella pagina in cui il Signore per ogni torto subito dal più piccolo uomo della terra, si costituisce parte lesa davanti al tribunale della storia.

Ma mi sono fermato, perché mi ero accorto di aver fuso.

Il cervello, non il motore.

Poi ho ripreso, mormorando all’orecchio del mio amico, rimasto in silenzio, il versetto di un altro salmo: “Il Signore ci ha fatto bere vino da vertigini”.»

Vostro + don Tonino Bello, Vescovo

[ Antologia degli Scritti, Vol. 3, pg. 187-192 ]

Beauty

Everything is beautiful in a person when he turns toward God, and everything is ugly when it is turned away from God.

 Pavel Florensky

Conversion

The traditional monastic vow of conversatio morum, "conversion of manners," speaks of a commitment to permanent change and therefore of vulnerability. Insofar as our baptismal call is to live within the power of the Resurrection, this vulnerability is entirely appropriate. An important icon of risen life has Jesus present to his disciples with open wounds. Woundedness retains its depth even if transfigured and glorified.

Although we think of monasticism primarily in terms of stability, a desire for and commitment to change as a condition of living is also central to the Rule of St Benedict. The early desert fathers and mothers recommended to their disciples, "Stay in your cell and it will teach you everything." Clearly it is important not to run away from where our struggles are based. That is what stability implies.

The danger of so-called conversion experiences, particularly in our Western consumer culture, is that the language we use can give the impression that a task has been fully accomplished. We will now live happily ever after. We have arrived at a condition of rest that is human perfection. But in fact the reality is not like this and everything is not under control. Conversion is more likely to mean that things, perhaps for the first time in our lives, get out of control. To be transfigured like Jesus we need to die. But real dying involves losing the illusion of control. That is why it is such a struggle. Conversion is always to another state of provisionality rather than a simple movement from chaos and uncertainty to the rock of invulnerability.

The goal of the spiritual journey - God - is ever-expanding as far as our perceptions are concerned. The experience is not a commodity called "perfection" but a process of being continually filled. It involves responsiveness rather than grasping. For this, we have to give up the search for the horizons we find so necessary as humans - especially tangible progress and visible success. Conversion leads us to respond only to "coordinates of grace" rather than to expectations, our own or others people's.

So, conversion is a time of chaos, searching and the loss of paradigms. Yet it is, at the same time, a period of choice and creativity. In its spiritual dimension, true conversion involves both grieving and celebration. As with all change in general, there is a turning away from something and a turning to a new direction. 

In both human loving and our love of God, the conversion process is one of decentring: that is, of moving beyond seeing the self as the unquestioned centre of reality. The deep change that is involved in conversion is a radical surrender but a surrender in love. Only falling in love, both with another person and with God, makes it really possible for us to surrender the self to any significant degree at all.

Philip Sheldrake

Cuore Sacro

Se non ami - Nek

Puoi decidere le strade che farai
puoi scalare le montagne oltre i limiti che hai
potrai essere qualcuno se ti va
ma se non ami
se non ami
non hai un vero motivo motivo per vivere
se non ami
non ti ami e non ci sei
se non ami
non ha senso tutto quello che fai
puoi creare un grande impero intorno a te
costruire grattaceli e contare un po' di più
puoi comprare tutto quello che vuoi tu
ma se non ami
se non ami
non hai un vero motivo per vivere
se non ami
non ti ami e non ci sei
se non ami
se non ami
non hai il senso delle cose più piccole
le certezze che non trovi e che non dai
l amore attende e non è invadente e non grida mai
se parli ti ascolta tutto sopporta crede in quel che fai
e chiede di esser libero alle porte
e quando torna indietro ti darà di più
se non ami
se non ami
tutto il resto sa proprio di inutile
se non ami
non ti ami
non ci sei...
senza amore noi non siamo niente mai...

Un fragile vaso

Mi hai fatto senza fine
questa è la tua volontà.

Questo fragile vaso
continuamente tu vuoti
continuamente lo riempi
di una vita sempre nuova.

Questo piccolo flauto di canna

hai portato per valli e colline:
attraverso di esso hai soffiato
melodie eternamente nuove.

Quando mi sfiorano le tue mani immortali
questo piccolo cuore si perde
in una gioia senza confini
e canta melodie ineffabili.

Su queste piccole mani
scendono i tuoi doni infiniti.
Passano le età, e tu continui a versare,
e ancora c'è spazio da riempire.


Rabindranath Tagore

Pope Benedict's Birthday

In his homily the Pope recalled how on the day he was born and baptised the liturgy "erected three signposts showing me where the road led and helping me find it": the feast of St. Bernardette of Lourdes, the feast of St. Benedict Joseph Labre, and Easter Saturday which in the year of the Pope's birth fell on 16 April.

St. Bernardette grew up in "a poverty we find difficult to imagine", he said. But "she could see with a pure and genuine heart, and Mary showed her a source ... of pure, living uncontaminated water, water which is life, water which gives purity and health. ... I believe we can see this water as an image of the truth which comes to us in the faith; unsimulated and uncontaminated truth. ... This little saint has always been a sign for me, showing me where the living water we need comes from, the water which purifies and gives life. She has been a sign showing me how we should be. With all our knowledge and abilities, which are of course necessary, we must not lose ... the simple gaze of the heart, which is capable of discerning the essential. And we must always pray to the Lord to help us retain the humility which allows the heart ... to see the simple and essential beauty and goodness of God, and to find the source from which the life-giving purifying water comes".

The Pope then turned his attention to St. Benedict Joseph Labre, who lived in the eighteenth century. "He was a rather particular saint who wandered as a mendicant from one shrine to another, wishing to do nothing but pray and so bear witness to what is important in this life: God. ... He shows us that, ... over and above what may exist in this world, over and above our needs and abilities, ... what is essential is to know God. He alone is enough". The life of the saint, who travelled to shrines all over Europe, "shows that the person who opens himself to God is not a stranger to the world of men, rather he finds brothers. ... Only God can eliminate frontiers, because thanks to Him we are all brothers".

"Finally there is the Paschal Mystery. On the day I was born, thanks to my parents, I was also reborn with the water of the Spirit. ... Biological life is in itself a gift, yet it begs an important question. It becomes a true gift only if, together with that life, we are given a promise stronger than any misfortune that may threaten us, if life is immersed in a power which guarantees that it is a good thing to be a man, and that the person is a benefit whatever the future may bring. In this way rebirth is associated with birth, the certainty that it is good to exist because the promise is greater than the threat. This is what it means to be reborn from water and from the Spirit. ... This rebirth is given to us in Baptism, but we must continually grow therein, we must ever and anew allow God to immerse us in His promise, in order to be truly reborn into the great new family of the Lord, which is stronger than all our weaknesses and all the negative powers that threaten us. That is why today is a day of thanksgiving.

"The day I was baptised ... was Easter Saturday. At the time it was still customary to hold the Easter vigil in the morning, followed by the darkness of Easter Saturday without a Hallelujah. This singular paradox, this anticipation of light in a day of darkness, can almost be seen as an image of the history of our own times. On the one hand there is the silence of God and His absence, yet the resurrection of Christ contains an anticipation of God's 'yes'. We live in this anticipation, through the silence of God we hear His words, and through the darkness of His absence we glimpse His light. The anticipation of the resurrection in the midst of evolving history indicates the path we must follow and helps us to continue the journey".

"I am in the final stage of my life journey and I do not know what awaits me. However, I do know that the light of God exists, that He rose again, that His light is stronger than all darkness, that the goodness of God is stronger than all the evil in this world. This helps me to continue with confidence. This helps us to continue, and I would like to thank everyone who, through their faith, continually makes me aware of God's 'yes'".

from VIS News

Solitude

We do not go into the desert to escape people but to learn how to find them; we do not leave them in order to have nothing more to do with them, but to find out the way to do them the most good. But this is only a secondary end.

The one end that includes all others is the love of God.

How can people act and speak as if solitude were a matter of no importance in the interior life? Only those who have never experienced real solitude can glibly declare that it "makes no difference" and that only solitude of the heart really matters! One solitude must lead to the other!

However, the truest solitude is not something outside you, not an absence of men or of sound around you; it is an abyss opening up in the center of your own soul.

And this abyss of interior solitude is a hunger that will never be satisfied with any created thing. 

The only way to find solitude is by hunger and thirst and sorrow and poverty and desire, and the man who has found solitude is empty, as if he had been emptied by death.

He has advanced beyond all horizons. There are no directions left in which he can travel. This is a country whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere. You do not find it by travelling but by standing still.

Yet it is in this loneliness that the deepest activities begin. It is here that you discover act without motion, labor that is profound repose, vision in obscurity, and, beyond all desire, a fulfillment whose limits extend to infinity.

Thomas Merton

The Context of Holiness

The trials and tragedies of life, the fears and conflicts of the human heart are not obstacles to growth in holiness but the stage upon which the drama of holiness unfolds... The gray mundaneness of daily life, our wounded psyches with all their fears and neurotic conflicts, our families, friends and peers who never live up to our expectations and who often disappoint us, the impersonal and insecure world that we live in, is the context in which we choose to do God's will.

Marc Foley in The Context of Holiness

Perfection

I wish so much that you could get hold of the idea of what perfection in this world consists of. It is not like going up a great hill from which we see an ever-widening landscape, a greater horizon, a plain receding further and further into the distance. It is more like an overgrown path, which we cannot find; we grope about; we are caught by brambles; we lose all sense of distance covered; we do not know whether we are going round and round or whether we are advancing. We are certain only of one thing; that we desire to go on even though we are worn out and tired. That is your life and you should rejoice greatly because of it, for it is a true life, serious and real, on which God opens His eyes and His heart.

Abbé de Tourville

Etty Hillesium - Ascoltare l'essenza delle cose

Courage

"... God says to Moses: 'Speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward.' And only afterwards does he tell Moses to lift up his rod, and then the Red Sea parts. It is only courage on the path itself that makes the path appear."

from 'Like the Flowing River' by Paulo Coelho

Levántate Amada Mía

PORQUE HA PASADO EL INVIERNO
Y LAS LLUVIAS HAN CESADO
ESTAN BROTANDO LAS FLORES
EL TIEMPO BELLO HA LLEGADO


PORQUE EL ARRULLO DEL AGUA
SE DEJA OIR EN LOS CAMPOS
EL PERFUME DEL AIRE
DE PRIMAVERA HA INUNDADO


LEVANTATE, AMADA MIA
LEVANTATE, HERMOSA MIA
VEN A MI QUE TE HABLO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO


LEVANTATE, AMADA MIA
LEVANTATE, HERMOSA MIA
VEN A MI QUE TE HABLO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO


VEN A MI PORQUE EL INVIERNO
YA HA PASADO
VEN A MI PORQUE TE AMO


VEN A MI AMADA MIA
PALOMA MIA QUE ANIDAS
EN LOS HUECOS DE LA PEÑA
EN LAS GRIETAS DE LA ROCA


DEJAME VER TU FIGURA
DEJAME VER TU PRESENCIA
DEJAME ESCUCHAR TU VOZ
PORQUE ES MUY DULCE TU VOZ


DEJAME VER TU FIGURA
DEJAME VER TU PRESENCIA
DEJAME VER TU MIRADA
DEJAME ESCUCHAR TU VOZ


LEVANTATE, AMADA MIA
LEVANTATE, HERMOSA MIA
VEN A MI QUE TE HABLO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO


VEN A MI QUE TE AMO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO
VEN AMI QUE TE AMO
VEN A MI QUE TE AMO

Draw me in Your footsteps, let us run

"The Bride must be drawn only by the one who said, 'Apart from me you can do nothing.' For well I know, she confesses, that I can join you only by following you step by step, that I could not follow you without your help... Your beloved, having left everything for your sake, desires therefore to put her feet in your footsteps, to follow you always and everywhere. She knows that your ways are beautiful, that your paths are those of peace and that, in following you, one does not walk in the dark. But she asks to be drawn, pulled, because your holiness is like the mountains of God and her own strength is insufficient to climb them. She is therefore quite right in wanting to be drawn since no one can come to the Father unless he is drawn by your Father. And those who are drawn by your Father you too draw... Thus she says: 'Draw me in your footsteps, let us run'... How indeed could we be surprised when she asks to be drawn, she who walks behind a giant and claims to join him who leaps over the mountains and jumps over the hills?... Her strength could not accomplish this. Thus she asks to be drawn. For I am tired, she says, I am faint; do not abandon me, but rather draw me in your footsteps to prevent me from following other lovers haphazardly. Draw me in your footsteps, for it is better for me to be drawn, even violently so, even threateningly so, even in punishment, rather than for you to be soft with me and leave me insecure, a prey to my own torpor. Draw me thus against my will, get my consent forcefully, tear me away from my inertia and throw me into the race. The time will come when I will not need to be pulled since we will run together, with all our heart, and effortlessly."

Bernard of Clarivaux

"Draw me, the sacred Bride tells the one she loves - that is to say, be the first to start. For I could not awaken by myself; I could not be moved if you did not move me. But after you will have moved me, O dear Bridegroom of my soul, we will run together, you in front and I behind you, you pulling forward and I accepting your attraction. But let no one think that you are pulling me forward as if I were a slave in bond or an inert carriage! Oh no, you are drawing me with the fragrance of your perfumes. If I am following you, it is not because you are pulling me but because you attract me. You attraction is powerful but not violent because its strength is its very sweetness. Perfumes have no other power than their sweetness to draw one after them, and how could sweetness pull if not sweetly and pleasantly?"

Francis de Sales

"One day after Holy Communion, Jesus let me understand this sentence of the Song: 'Draw me; we run after the fragrance of your perfumes.' O Jesus, it is therefore not necessary to say: in drawing me, also draw the souls I love. This simple phrase, 'draw me', is enough. Yes, when a soul lets itself be captured by the intoxicating smell of your perfumes, it cannot run alone. All souls, it loves are drawn together with it; this is a natural consequence of being drawn to you... I feel that the greater the fire of love ignited in my heart, the more I will say, 'draw me', and the more the souls that will come close to me will swiftly run toward the fragrance of the beloved's perfume. Yes, they will run; we will run together... for a soul that is a fire with love cannot remain inactive."

Thérèse of Lisieux