Pope Francis writes to the Bishop of Westminster: “I commend the victims to the loving mercy of God and invoke divine strength and peace upon the grieving families.” Solidarity from all over the world with all those affected by this tragedy.
At the harshest and most dangerous frontiers, the Consecrated Women are there. Danger doesn’t stop them from even risking their lives, trusting only in the Spouse of their soul. The annual retreat of Women Religious from several congregations who find strength in the spirituality of communion that reinforces their consecration to God and gives meaning to their service to the least. Each of them has her own fascinating story to tell which flows from the charism of the religious family she belongs to, says sister Viera from the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor: “At 9 years old, I helped my Dad to build a house, and at 14 I was already working in a winery where ambiguity and vulgarity was the order of the day, which I soon picked up and it became part of my life. Thirsty for justice, I joined an extremist party, but at the age of 22 and tired with it all, I found myself on the third-floor balcony ready to end it all. The only thing that kept me from jumping was the thought of my mother who would have gone into despair. In the days that followed, at the bus stop I met a sister I had never seen before who, sensing my general discomfort, invited me to a meeting of young people from the Focolare. I went because I wanted to get over the idea of suicide that continued to torment me. Listening to their experiences of living the Gospel, I thought they were all crazy, that they were just wasting their time. But that evening I felt a happiness I had never experienced before. God was taking me by the hand and showing me who He really is: Love. At work – not without a bit of difficulty – I began to put the commandment of mutual love into practice, to use softer tones and to show attention to the older workers, to smile more. Through the meetings with the Focolare youth and with Cristina – the sister who had first spoken to me – I felt drawn to a more serious walk with God. After a course of formation, I left home and work to enter the Franciscan Sisters of the Poor, a congregation that serves the poorest of the poor, including girls living on the streets who are heading for prostitution, jails, and so on. I’ve been working for 23 years in jail ministry, in contact with detainees, regardless of their beliefs and cultures, at the Rebibbia Jail in Rome, [Italy]. Recently I’ve also begun work in Pistoia, [Italy]. I only go to listen to them, without expecting anything. I put myself at their service to make telephone calls to their relatives, to lawyers … I bring them everything they need to write letters. I work with the teachers, checking with them especially when there are problems. Every time I step into one of those environments I think of Jesus’s words to the Pharisees who wanted to stone the woman caught in adultery: ‘Let the one who is without sin cast the first stone.’ Living the mercy of God firsthand, I try to possess a deep sense of acceptance towards each one of them, just as they are, with total trust. The only one to judge is God, a God who loves everyone. Often the trust becomes mutual and then they feel urged to talk about their lives, their dramas, their difficulties living together, the suffering of being deprived of even the most basic needs. This attitude of making ourselves one, which Chiara Lubich taught to us, is the golden key that allows me to build a peaceful and respectful dialogue with everyone. In Pistoia there are around 200 detainees between young people and adults, with more so-called Minors who have committed serious crimes. At first it was hard for me to face them because, in Rebibbia I only met with women. But then I saw that ‘there is neither woman nor man’ as Saint Paul says – and that everyone is a candidate for unity. I go to visit them three or four times a week. We chat in the chapel right in front of Eucharistic Jesus, and generally all of them tell me that they want our little chats to continue and that they look forward to my return. They tell me about their anguish, their fears – feelings that I try to alleviate by reminding them that each one of us is the very focal point of God’s love. Some of them tell me about their return to God, as a detainee from Rebibbia recently wrote to me: ‘I’d like to make up for all the time I threw away. I hope that life gives me a second chance to save myself and my family, to show that I matter too, that I can also do something good. Dearest Sr Viera, I hope that you will allow me to continue to have your friendship. I thank God that he made me meet you.’
“A precious gift,” a “strong witness of the Charism of unity,” and “a Word really lived,” was how Maria Voce, President of the Focolare Movement spoke of Cardinal Miloslav Vlk, who passed away on Saturday, 16 March in Prague. In a communication to all the members of the Movement, Maria Voce highlighted the “edifying” way in which Vlk lived the last period of his life, marked by a great weakening but at the same time by “a continuous attitude of gratitude to God for the gifts he had received from Him.” She underlined the “very deep bond” the Cardinal had with the Focolare Movement “since the start of his clandestine ministry in the time when Czechoslovakia was under the communist regime.” She expressed immense gratitude for his commitment and devotion with which for 18 years, he carried out his role as moderator of the group of Bishops who declare themselves “friends of the Movement,” activities he followed with great interest and participation even from the hospital. Maria Voce denoted that Cardinal Miloslav was “surrounded by prayers of the Diocesan community, members of the Movement, friends of other Christian denominations, and both Jews and Muslims with whom he had undertaken years of dialogue.” She also cited the “many testimonials of his example of humility, communion and evangelical wisdom, which underlined the way he made himself simply a “brother” to all, and also his authority as a “father” who was able to give enthusiasm and motivate those around him.” “We have a great heritage before us,” Maria Voce concluded, and it is “A heritage to treasure and discover more deeply.”
For more than 25 years I have been in constant contact with Fr. Nabil, a Catholic- Melchite priest of Syria, married and father of five. We met as seminarians during a meeting of the Focolare Movement . Since the start of the terrible war in Syria, it comes spontaneously to live the situation together. There are so many people praying for the people in Syria, invoking peace! Thus a spiritual communion was born, uniting also the two parish communities, his in Syria and ours in Switzerland. When his two older daughters couldn’t continue their studies in Syria, our community in Basel welcomed them. Last summer, since I had to change parish, I was able to take some time off to visit them. So the 40 days in Syria began! I arrived in Beirut at 3:00 in the morning, where Fr. Nabil welcomed me at the airport. With a car full of people and luggage we headed for Syria. At the border we were warmly welcomed by the office director. While the car and documents were being checked, we were his guests. Then we continued our journey, along secondary streets – since the main ones were closed – passing through numerous checkpoints until we reached Fr. Nabil’s town, five km away from the city of Hama. We were accommodated in various houses and experienced a warm and joyful welcome. I discovered a lively community. Every evening in the parish, over 200 children and young people took turns to meet us. All in all, more than 900 people passed some hours together. It is a daily celebration. The 70 youths in charge are strongly committed despite the fact that they go to school or the university, or are studying for their exams. As days passed I started to understand that this busy life is lived against a background of tearing pain. I discovered that the noise they hear daily come from the air raids. I found out that the stations of the “rebels” are just a few kilometers away, and that a week earlier, even a Christian village 12 km away had been attacked, with the death of many people. Various families can no longer buy the necessary living commodities. At night all is dark, and there are only LED lights with batteries. In many homes I saw photos of their sons who have died in the war. Almost none of the families is intact because over 3,000 youths have left the country. One day during a funeral, two grenades exploded and killed two people. I asked myself: where do these people find the strength not to despair? The fact is that for several years now, a great community has developed, and draws inspiration from the Spirituality of unity. There are over 200 people organised in small groups, who nurture themselves with the Word of God and take care of the disadvantaged people and children. They have set up a small social centre which assists people with serious diseases and provide with the help of the solidarity of their fellow citizens and international friends, for the medicines and treatments. They regularly visit up to 450 families to support them in their serious needs. Even the relationships between the various religious groups are well taken care of. And so we were invited, along with the other priests of the city, for the Ramadan dinner with more than 200 Imams of the City of Hama. Over the last week I had the chance to participate in the Mariapolis. There were over 200 people from various cities and regions of the country: Damascus, Homs, Hama, Aleppo and Latakia. For the first time since the start of the war, they could risk travelling and meeting one another. All have suffered immensely and lost their homes, jobs and even beloved relatives. But they have not lost their faith and love. (Ruedi Beck) Source: Gens magazine January – March 2017, p. 38-40
Agnese Fermo is a mathematics professor from Milan, Italy; she is married and has two children. She is also a member of the International Commission of the Centre for Dialogue with people of the Focolare that have no religious affiliation. We asked her to tell about her experience of the past several years engaged in this open dialogue and to present the upcoming conference titled “Is there meaning in suffering?” “I attended the international gatherings on this dialogue at Castel Gandolfo and other gatherings where we went deeper into the spirituality of the Movement. Right from the start we perceived the importance – for each one of us – of this communitarian experience that Chiara Lubich was offering to us. Dialogue, besides being an expression of the gift of diversity, was also a tool that enriched our thinking. I’ve belonged to the “dialogue group” in Milan for about 15 years. The need and desire that each of us had for dialogue made us feel that we were necessarily part of the human experience of a whole sector of humankind, and carriers of part of the truth through the relationships that we were building. But this experience couldn’t remain enclosed in a group: it was the trace of a path for each one of us to follow, besides for the Movement itself. We felt like we had to step out of structured groups, especially after Chiara left us. In Milan this has taken place, but with the many people with whom we’ve shared this experience – both members and non-members of the Movement – the relationship has remained deep and real. Regarding the upcoming conference titled Is there meaning in suffering? I believe I can say that we haven’t fixed any particular goal. I think this is because of the need we feel to give space to dialogue, not so much in the sense of comparing thoughts on the theme itself (there’s a lot of literature on this topic! And it’s often avoided as a topic). Rather, we’d like to create a space in which we can welcome people that have such a different religious sense towards life, a space capable of giving enough breathing room to this other portion of humanity that we represent, we who have different religious convictions. But there is also the desire to offer a communitarian experience, even if only for three days, to live within a dimension of mutual freedom beyond affiliation, in which each one of us can offer their our experience and innermost feelings on such a delicate topic as suffering. Personally, I wouldn’t know what the meaning of suffering is. I haven’t found an answer that has been able to express the mystery contained in that question. As I wonder about it whenever I visit the women’s prison, made me discover the value of my presence in that place as a time of sharing made up of mere moments, of the solitude that marks the pain of those women that I encounter. From them I’ve receive precious gifts and discovered the value of the embrace that that sharing contains which, although brief in time, brings to life our being [gifts] for each other. Knowing how to ‘stay inside the wound’ – which for me, means to say, being called to accept whatever life has in store for me in that moment – there’s submission in front of what you can’t avoid, [submission] to the suffering that we’re all asked to go through.”