© Comunità dei figli di Dio, Community of God's Sons and Daughters, C.F.D., Settignano, Florence, Italy

COMUNITÀ DEI FIGLI DI DIO/ COMMUNITY OF

GOD'S SONS AND DAUGHTERS

NOTIZIARIO/ NEWSLETTER

JUNE, 1999

COMUNITA` DEI FIGLI DI DIO UNDER THE SOUTHERN CROSS

'The other religions exclude all mystery because God through these would remain inaccessible in His transcendence. The fact then that some Christian churches do not believe in the Eucharist does not mean that they have lost faith in Christ: even Protestants think salvation depends on the event of the Cross. But I say to them: How can God live for us, while we live in time? The only reply, the Eucharist'.

Don Divo Barsotti, from 'Mi basta l'Eucarestia/ The Eucharist is Enough', interview in Avvenire, 1/4/1999.

FROM THE FATHER

OUR PRIESTS

Dearest Ones,

The moment cannot be put off forever when I shall leave you, and be called to the Father. It is a necessary, precise and serious duty, this of giving you a word that is a clear directive for the Comunita` for when I will no longer be with you. I will remain in fact always your father, the one whom the Lord chose to give life to a new Comunita`.

It is important to seek to understand the thought of God and his will to sustain new organizations and new communities for ever. There would be no sense in multiplying the one and the other if each religious community did not have its own charism and its mission in God's Church. It is natural that in the nearness to leaving you I should recall what seemed to me and what seems to me now the reason for this union amongst us. Many times I have insisted on the monastic character of the Comunita`. I am rather worried and I fear that after my death certain symptoms that give me ground for concern will become such as to compromise the reason itself for our Comunita`. Is it possible that - above all the members of the III and IV Branch - could live their Consecration in the Comunita` without taking up for their whole life the study of the Word of God and of theology? At times I get the impression that these study more for academic examinations than to know the Lord and those to whom we should communicate the Word of God. First of all I need to recommend to ourselves the faithfulness to study for all, but particularly for those who are called to the Priesthood. They must not feel they are free of this obligation, and only study in order to communicate to others what they have learned. Study is essential for the way to perfection. It is difficult to determine the amount of time one should dedicate to this study; each allotment can be varied for other duties because they do not have the same need. Each Consecrated person should study, some more, some less: what should remain constant is that study, as lectio divina, is an essential element in our lives.

For is not this the first duty of the Christian, to know God? And who can say they know him and of not having learned always more of the depth, of the riches, of divine wisdom? Study is therefore not an end in itself, our own greater valorising nor even as a more effective means to witness to the world the presence of God in our hearts. Study is our very life in which each religious family should desire to be faithful to the priority of contemplation, to the exercise of an interior life which requires sobriety, silence, solitude. I have said to you that for me there would not be any longer the reason for the Comunita` to exist if it did not remain faithful to prayer: but that is not enough. A life of prayer requires that the soul loves silence and the solitude of the cell. One absolutely cannot think that it could be possible to reply with our vocation to the Lord without the faithfulness in remaining, as much as one can, each one in our own cell.

Another thing that I must recommend to our priests is that preaching at retreats not be multiplied with overmuch travel. Even more, we ought to seek to listen to what is said. Our words ought always to be a reply to the need of the soul. From this is the importance that souls open first to us and that we have a direct acquaintance with those to whom we must speak.

About the organization, about the life of each family, these ought above all be aware of those who have the task of governing: to avoid privileging a certain category of person, whether because they have studied more or because of their youthful freshness. I am afraid that we prefer the younger to the older too much and even to those of our brothers who are not old but who are mature men and women with family ties. I recommend especially that no one be made to feel they are forgotten, that no one be made to feel they are excluded. The Comunita` means communion, and the communion is the relationship of fraternal charity, of respect, of esteem: it is our duty to serve each other.

I don't need to add that one ought to love the Comunita`, it isn't for what it gives us but for what it is. Only a faithful love despite all tests can overcome the difficulties of my passage. I have known diverse communities which, with the death of the founder, have immediately run into the gravest difficulties and disbanded, or if they continue do so without having anything to say, anything new to add. What merit is it if the Comunita` continue yet having nothing more to say? I pray that the Lord keep you faithful, growing in love much more than whatever dangers may menace the vitality of this our beloved family.

I bless you with great affection and commend you to the protection of the Virgin, I commend you to the love of him who died for you and who has called you particularly to follow him in union with the Father.

Il padre/ The Father.

The Crucifix for the Chapel in Benin. Alpidio Balbo and the Merano Missionary Centre wanted to give to padre a wooden crucifix from Alto Adige to place in the chapel of our House in Benin. It is a truly splendid work and of great value. Padre blessed it on the altar at Casa San Sergio when Alpidio came for Elia's diaconal ordination. Here are padre and Alpidio immediately after the Blessing of the Crucifix.

BIBLICAL INSERT

SECOND BOOK OF CHRONICLES

As in the Book of Samuel and that of Kings, so do the Books of the Chronicles form a unity in their origin. Their name derives from an observation of St Jerome, according to which this work could have carried the title, 'Chronicle of the History of Salvation'. The Greek title, 'Paralipomenon' (that which was left out) makes one think instead of a completion of the Books of Samuel and of Kings. This is true only in part, for the chronicler wants to give the story of the Chosen People from the Creation of Humankind to the end of the Babylonian Exile according to his personal insight. The Books of Ezra and Nehemiah are the sequel. The choice of vocabulary, the style and the mode of thought reveal the same author for all four books. It is thought they were written at the beginning of the fourth century before Christ, with some later additions.

The chronicler's intent was to describe the achievement of God's rule in the Promised Land. If we consider that the author, in his dispute with the Samaritans, wants to see Judah as the one true Israel, thanks to the royal dynasty of David and the one true Temple, then we can understand even better a fact that at first is confusing: in the first Book of the Chronicles the narration begins only with the period of David and leaves out completely the most fundamental events, like the Exodus and the Covenant of Sinai. But the Jews and the Samaritans have the Pentateuch in common, the five books of the Law of Moses; about that there is no argument. The dispute bursts into flames when it is about the House of David as eternal dynasty and about the Temple in Jerusalem.

The chronicler pays no attention to the independence of the Northern Kingdom after the schism; the Northern Tribes separate from Jerusalem and from the People of God with Jeroboam. Already in the first Book of Chronicles the govenment of David over all Israel is emphasized (1 Chronicles 11.1-4). This separation is sealed with the destruction of Samaria and the deportation of its population. Judah with Jerusalem instead forms the Kingdom of God in this world, over these people. God intervenes directly, either helping them miraculously or punishing them gravely. According to God's plan, this City of God could have lived in peace and prosperity, if a single representative of the house of David had not been wicked and had not turned to other gods along with the people. But why was not Judah disowned like Israel? Her existance is based exclusively on God's Promise, to make the throne of David stable for ever. For this reason, God calls Cyrus (2 Chronicles 36.22), to make a new beginning be possible after half a century of exile, when humanly there was no more hope. This faithfulness of God to his Promise, in the face of his People's miserable failure, can only be understood as mercy and grace. God is the One Lord; for the individual as for the whole People what is crucial is this relation with Him. The words of David to Solomon, 'If you seek Him, you will be found; if instead you abandon Him, He will reject you for ever' (1 Chronicle 28.9), is taken up often in the second Book of Chronicles and the author never tires of proving the truth of this phrase. He who turns in faith to God will not perish. A particular problem are the numbers in the Books of Chronicles; when dealing with the numbers and makeup of an army or of quantities of gifts and offerings. This is so tiring as to make one want to sweep over the whole thing. Numbers have a different meaning in all the East than they have for us. Chronicling these gigantic numbers adds theological meaning; as great as is Israel's army, so much greater is the blessing of God; as great as are the gifts and sacrifices, so much greater is their zeal for the honour of God and the thanksgiving for his bountifulness. What method lies behind these actual numbers will remain perhaps remain forever hidden from us.

PADRE'S POESIE

Anxious Awaiting

In me you were anxiously awaited
always anew, you give to me
in the living sense of an absence
which day after day
always more unbearably burns
and consumes me. Stripped of myself,
You possess me and live in me,
and your life in me has the taste of death;
even in this death, the soul
hungers. Burn me, don't spare me,
don't listen to my lament,
I say to my God - I want none but you, I want
you alone. It is from too many memories
of things, the memory even of myself.

Only in death is my life.

From Pensieri extravaganti/ Extra thoughts,

12 September 1986

Alan Oldfield, Australian painter, 'The Revelations of Julian of Norwich', St Gabriel's Chapel, Ditchingham, Bungay, Suffolk, England, Courtesy of the Friends of Julian of Norwich and Community of All Hallows, Ditchingham.

Miracle of Life

My house is on the hill of Settignano.
Saints and poets speak to me:
my life is fed with their words.
They surely live with me
live in me, who do not interrupt life
if the words always are born again
while I expectantly, lovingly gather them,

Astonished the mind contemplates the miracle
of life which trustingly
springs in flower and fruit.
Can poetry and sanctity come together
to produce a new vine? Can, in the meeting
of your pain and the recognition of the
ancient singer of Oedipus and the medical writer
who feel in the heart the fall of a fallen cherry?
How in your eyes is reflected the sovereign light
of sacred Hellades which saw the blind poet
and the domed sky of the north plunge on his heart
which knew delight and punishment?
humble pure sweetness which lives with me
- and its silence echoes the silence of sky -
the old ecstatic prior of Groenendaal,
Jan van Ruusbroec, now is near,
eyes shining with vision, Julian
and Teresa, of Norwich and Avila.

Before the library the olives darken
in the autumnal wind, the cypresses rise black
on the green carpet of the brief terrace -
peace drops from the sky.

Distant men, here -
here the presence of the dead, the presence of God.
All close to you, live in your heart.

Da 'Con parola umana/ With Human Words'

7 November 1974

LIGHT ON MY PATH

PRAYER AND COMPASSION

In thinking of our modern, active and energetic modern world, we are forced at a certain point to separate prayer from life, because to do them together seems almost impossible. But that is the central problem: in what way can our prayer be truly necessary for the wellbeing of other humans? What does it mean when we say we must 'pray constantly' and that prayer is 'the one thing needful'?

The question only becomes important when it is taken in the most radical form. The problem of where and how to pray is not really the most important thing. The crucial question is whether we ought to pray constantly and whether our prayer is necessary. This is the gamble of all or nothing! When we say it is good to turn to God in prayer for a miserly moment, or when we agree with a person with a problem that it is good to take refuge in prayer, we have just about admitted that prayer is placed at the margin of life and is not very important.

If we think that a little prayer cannot do harm, we quickly discover that it cannot even do much good. Prayer has meaning only if it is necessary and indispensable. Prayer is only prayer when we can say that without it we cannot live. How can this be true, or how can we make it be true?

The word which carries us closest to the answer to this question is the word compassion. To understand it we ought first to consider what happens to us when we pray. Then we can understand how to come to meet our neighbour in our prayer.

Often it is said that prayer is simply an expression of powerlessness: it is to ask of another what we are powerless to do ourselves. This is half true. The person who prays does not only say, 'I can't do it, and I don't understand it', but even says, 'I ought not to be capable of doing it alone, and I ought not to understand it alone'. When you are locked into the first phrase, you pray in confusion and in despair; but when you can attain the second, you will feel your dependence no longer as powerlessness, but as a joyous opening to others.

If you consider your weakness as a disgrace, you trust in prayer only in extreme need and conceive of prayer as a confession forced out of you by your impotence. But if you see your weakness as something that makes you worthy of love, you will be always ready to be caught by the surprise of the power that the other will give you, discovering through prayer that living means living together.

A prayer that makes you lose courage can with great difficulty be called a prayer. Because in fact you will lose your courage thinking that you have to be capable of doing all by yourself, that each gift that comes to you from the other is a test of your inferiority and that you are truly a complete person only when you have no more need of the other.

But with this mentality you will become tired and exhausted because all your strength will be taken up in proving that you can do it alone, and each error will be a cause for shame. You will lose your optimism and you will feel embittered; you will conclude that the others are enemies and rivals who have placed you in a sack. You will thus condemn yourself to your solitude, because you perceive every hand extended to you like a threat to your sense of honour.

When God said to Adam, 'Where are you?' Adam replied 'I hid myself' (Genesis 3.9-10). He confessed to his true condition, and that confession opened him to God. When we pray we come out of our hiding places, and we not only see our nakedness, but we see also that it is no enemy from whom we hid ourselves, but a friend who only seeks to reclothe us in a new garment . . .

If we cling to our weaknesses, to our faults, to our defects, we shall be hiding under a hedge through which no one can glimpse us. What we do is restrict our world to a little hiding place in which we seek to conceal ourselves, suspecting rather miserably that someone will see through all this in time.

To pray is to renounce a false safety, to seek no more arguments to protect ourselves when backed into a corner, and not to take up into your planning for more than two seconds what life can easily offer you. To pray means your putting before God the same evil that you hide in yourself. To pray is to walk in the full light of God and to say simply, without dragging yourself back, 'I am human and you are God'. In that moment comes the conversion, the reestablishment of a true relationship. A human being is not one who always errs, and God is not one who always pardons. No! Human beings are sinners and God is love. The experience of conversion is made clear with stunning simplicity and disarming clarity.

This conversation will give one permission to breathe again and to rest in the embrace of God who forgives. The experience brings about calm and simply joy. Because then you can say, 'I don't know the answer, and I cannot do this, but I don't need to know it, and I ought not to be capable of doing it'. This knowledge is the freedom that gives you access to everything in creation and leaves you free to play in the garden which stretches before you.

From H.J. Nouwen, A mani aperte/With Open Hands, Queriniana, 1997.

SEEDS OF RUSSIAN SPIRITUALITY

PRIESTLY ARDOUR

The Church is truly heaven on earth; in fact, where it is the throne of God, there come to be celebrated fearsome mysteries, where the angels serve together with mortals, where the Almighty is glorified incessantly, there where we are really the heaven, and the heaven of heavens.

But let us enter the temple of God with the fear of God and purity of heart, abandoning all passion and all earthly anxieties, resting in this place with faith and reverence, with well-prepared attentiveness, with love and in peace of heart, in such a way as to return from there renewed, made so to say, celestial; in such a way as to live the sanctity of heaven itself, freed from despire and from worldly pleasure.

The 'sign of the cross' which accompanies the blessing given by the priest or by the bishop is the sign of the benevolence of God for us, in Christ and through Christ. What a rite full of joy and of strength! Blessed are those who receive with faith this blessing! Even priests ought to be conscious of this strength when they impart this blessing to the faithful, 'Take my name to the Israelites and I will bless them' (Numbers 6.27).

'Be not of this world, as I am not of this world' (John 17.16). This is what Jesus answered to the request of his disciples. This is a great eulogy; what is in it? That the apostles, living in the world, were estranged from it, neither seeking glory, nor wealth, nor peace there. They sought the glory and the wealth that is uncorruptible, the union with God. We, instead, sinners that we are, are of this world because we seek the glory of this world, material wealth, the enjoyment of the goods of this world, earthly rest and joy. All our shamefulness, our passions, our temptations, our failures in the Christian life derive from this attachment to the world and to its goods.

Why do we need to pray, going into church, and when participating in its functions? Is it because we need each day to eat and drink, breathe and work? At the same time there is the absolute need to pray to preserve and develop the life of the soul, to strengthen it and purify it; For if you do not pray, you are in a way imprudent and senseless because you protect, feed and strengthen your body in every way and abandon instead your soul. We are composed of soul and of body.

The Christian ought to live the life of heaven with fasting, renunciation, prayer, love, humility, meekness, patience, courage and mercy. How hard will be the death of the one who in life made money, ate and drank, making of worldly honours his own idol! In that hour, there would be nothing that could be useful to him, while his heart did not possess its true treasure.

In our life there can be many occasions of opposition because of our numerous defects: if we get cross about them each time, we will not get very far. Not only that, but being contrary or irritated does not resolve the problems, quite the opposite. Thus it is best always to remain calm, full of love and with respect for a humanity that is morally ill, above all when this is about our friends, our relatives and people beneath us.

The priest must force himself to preserve his courage, the solidity and the boldness notwithstanding of the invisible enemy who sows in him constantly foolish terror and stupid fear. Even though the priest cannot correct his own vices he can celebrate the sacraments truly. Boldness is a great gift of God and a great treasure for the soul! Courage and boldness play a fundamental role in the battle of this world, because they can bring about miracles; but in the spiritual battle their role is even more important.

THE COMUNITA` IN SRI LANKA

'We will seek to make a good Comunita` here in Sri Lanka'. Those were the last words which Anura Perera, one of the local CFD Responsibles, said to me at the Colombo airport, on the night of my departure, watching me with eyes that were both humble and smiling. Words which seal stupendous experiences of fraternity, of joy, of communion, of my eighteen days's visit in Sri Lanka. After being in Australia, the flight to Sri Lanka (the island below India), seemed rather short, just nine hours on the plane. To go to Roccella Ionica by train takes longer. I was accompanied on this journey to the East by Sr Anusha, one of our Sri-Lankan Sisters who is living in the comunity in Argenta, in Ferrara. Last September, I knew I would find about twenty five Aspirants on my arrival in Sri Lanka, who had entered because of her and Sister Dammika. They had entered as Aspirants and been given maximum preparation, while awaiting greater contact through a follow up visit by one of our priests, which happened with my coming to the island in April. My stay had two distinct phases: in the first I was guest in the house of a young couple of Aspirants (Sr Anusha's brother and his wife), where I could learn about the place, the people, the families, entering into a close and vital relationship with the Aspirants. In the second phase I was a guest in a religious community in Colombo, directed by Blessed Sacrament Fathers, where I could be more in contact with other new people who, hearing talk of the Comunita`, came to seek me out to know about these things. Sri-Lanka means 'Pearl of the Indian Ocean', and truly it is like a great green garden. We are not far from the equator and the seasons do not exist; in the zone where I was, in winter it gets down to 23-24 degrees (but that is the coldest), while in summer it can even go above 40 degrees. I found a stable temperature around 31-35 degrees (rather warm, considering that this was also the night time temperature, there not being temperature changes between night and day). The vegetation is enchanting: palms and greenery everywhere, sunlight and fruit of all sorts.

The Meeting with the Bishop

One ought not and cannot take a step, in the Holy Church of God, without being in accord with the Bishop, St Ignatius of Antioch, one our four saints, said this very clearly. And, as I would not want to annoy St Ignatius, I dropped my bags, and went to see the Archbishop of Colombo, a few hours after my arrival. I arrived there escorted by a policeman, Shelton, and an airport security guard, Anura (don't be afraid, these are two Aspirants in the Comunita`). The Archbishop welcomed me warmly, with 'Ad quid venisti?', 'What have you come about?'. 'Your Excellency, there is a little group of lay people who have made something we call Aspirancy: I have come to meet them and to understand better what we should do. Also in Italy we have some brothers and sisters from Sri-Lanka, and I come also in their name'. He wanted to know many things about us, and at the end he encouraged us saying he was pleased that this was happening in his Diocese of Colombo. And so he blessed us, the policeman, the guard and myself, who on our knees received our first Sri-Lankan episcopal blessing. In Sri Lanka there are twelve dioceses, and I went to find the different bishops of the nearby dioceses. Everywhere the welcomings were celebratory. For them and for the Christians Italy means Rome and Rome means the Pope. I was struck (but I was already struck by this in Australia) at how Italy is considered a blessed land because of the presence here of Rome and the Pope, and that we are envied for this. One has to leave Italy to realize this privilege, that we Italian Catholics perhaps only sense lightly. The different bishops welcomed our proposal and the idea of Comunita` there. So now the Comunita` is known a little in all of Sri-Lanka. I hope we don't disappoint them!

The People

When I would enter our Aspirants' homes the classic scene was the following: I would be welcomed by the whole family, father, mother, babies, grandparents, and often the neighbours too - with great reverence: a priest coming into a house is just by itself a blessing. We would make ourselves comfortable, no one sitting down until I had, and then the head of the family would begin to speak, while the wife disappeared behind the screen and made tea for all (Sri-Lanka is tea country: I drank gallons of it); this great reverence would continue the whole visit and as soon as I invited them to pray, all would gather immediately, with the typical gesture of joined hands, and pray with great devotion before the corner which in all the Christian houses is thought of as the Prayer Corner; an image of the Madonna or of Jesus, before which a lamp is always burning. While I spoke, I thought of these many faces stretched towards me, straining to catch the all words (I spoke in English, with Sr. Anusha ready to translate into Sinhalese in times of difficulty) and these dark eyes full of light . . .so while they listened to me I contemplated their faces, especially those of the babies. The babies, oh . . . so many babies! It was enough to greet one to be surrounded by ten. It was consoling to me to see on Sunday the church packed full of babies, all gathered in prayer . . . Their Mass is at 8:00, after Catechism that begins at 7:00. (I asked myself in perplexity what I would have said as a child if my parish church had had Catechism at 7:00 on Sunday mornings.) The children's education is such that obedience to their parents is natural. I remember that at one of our gatherings, in the presence of thirty adults and twenty children, I asked if we could say the Rosary before beginning the talking, and at the command of the parents all the children seated themselves before me on the carpet and remained still the entire time, saying even their Rosaries. I watched them, thinking of their shining eyes as a wealth that made me happy, and I understood this was the same joy that the Lord had when he wanted them all round him. The one disturbance was a little three year old child of Anura (the airport guard), but it was my fault, because for half an hour beforehand I had played at cops and robbers with him and he naturally wanted to continue. I was guest at religious institutes and in families, in parishes and in contact with Buddhists, I entered modest homes without walls and elegant places, workplaces and open fields, archbishops and banana sellers, all with the same tranquility. Certainly in the families of our Aspirants I lived through the best experiences, because we are linked by a knowledge of love, for the Comunita` is a family. One evening, in the house of one of our Aspirants the family had wanted to honour my presence (because I was a priest and because I was now Superior of their Comunita`) with a gesture that troubled me, that I did not want to accept, but which they explained was customary, the gesture children make to their parents, and which belongs to Eastern culture; one by one, men and women, the old and the young, prostrated themselves before me and kissed my feet. I wanted in turn to kiss their feet. In the week in which I was guest of the Blessed Sacrament Fathers I often went down to the church where the Blessed Sacrament is exposed all day and could unite with the people in their fervant prayer. At whatever hour, there were always so many people in the church, despite the heat: prostrate, kneeling, arms outstretched; and so many men: I would see them enter with their briefcases, take off their sandals and prostrate themselves in adoration for some moments, or longer. And equally at Mass, their concentration had something in it of the sacred, unusual in our congregations, that helped marvellously in entering into the mystery. I was really struck by their collectedness.

My Day

Poor Sr Anusha . . . so many things she had to do for me. She put together all the meetings - more or less as did Adrian in Australia - but not as a precise programme, and we went along day by day, and at times I was really needing to be in two places at once. Our day would begin with our prayers and Mass, in the parish (the first day I was surprised at seeing the priest celebrate barefoot, then I saw that all who entered took off their sandals and shoes), and then we would go the houses of each Aspirant to meet them, get to know them, pray together with them. Gradually the numbers of people coming to meet me and telephoning to ask for information increased: they would come or at times I would make the journey on the bus (I strongly advise against Sri Lanka buses!). All of which Sr Anusha arranged. After a little rest following lunch (about food, everything is highly spiced, from breakfast to dinner, one needs a strong palate), in the afternoons we would have more meetings. I had already met a journalist (who had published two articles about my visit in the principle national newspapers in Sri Lanka), a football player, very rare this, as cricket is the national sport, someone who wrote poetry and who each day buried me in poems, and various other people. The evening we concluded by summing up the day with Sr Anusha, planning the next day and getting scared together about what would happen. How would all this turn out? How could we set about the formation of the Aspirants? What could we say to the young people wanting to be a part of the common life? Who could we name as local Responsibles? After anguishing we would end with Sr Anusha's laughter and above all placing it in the Lord's hands.

Christianity and Buddhism

The people are poor but live with great dignity. I did not visit the poorest regions and those in the north where there are still troubles with Tamil terrorism. The principle religion is Buddhism; often on the streets one sees temples dedicated to Buddha, and often I saw in the immediate vicinity Christians placing a statue of Jesus and the Madonna or a Crucifix. Catholics, being in the minority, have a strong sense of belonging to the Church, and profess their faith openly without any problem. Some of our Aspirants are ex-Buddhist converts. These live their Christianity with the greatest intensity. The bishop of Anuradanapura (they have incredibly long names which taxed my memory!) invited me to his diocese, telling me that there Catholics were a tiny minority; in his diocese, the largest in the country, there being only twelve Catholic priests, not because there was a lack of vocations (the Seminaries are literally overflowing), but because ordination takes place according to need. A community like ours could help enormously to increase the spiritual formation of Christians, and to witness also to Buddhists that Christianity is not only active but a life of charity, faith and prayer, in the midst of the world. He said he is waiting for us. Who knows. Amongst numerous visits, I went to the Italian Embassy. The Ambassador lives in the curious little Victorian palace in the heart of the capital, and when he received me I found myself before a gentleman who seemed to have stepped out of a film: tall, dressed all in white, with an aristocratic air. He spoke to me about life here in Sri Lanka (I said what a pleasure it was to speak with an Italian) and it turned out that he was born in a street near Coverciano, practically a few hundred metres from Settignano. Astonishing. At the end we seemed like old friends. Another time I went to a diocese in the extreme south where I met a smiling priest (in Sri Lanka there is always humour) who spoke some Italian. When I asked him where he had learned it he told me he had studied theology for two years and in the summer helped in the parish in Poggibonsi, where Stefano and Efrem had made their First Vows. Speaking of Poggibonsi while elephants were passing by gave me a sense of a world without distance. I met another local priest who, when he knew that I was of the Comunita` founded by don Divo Barsotti, told me smilingly of having encountered padre through reading in passing his book in Italian, 'The Christian Mystery in the Liturgical Year'. Thus padre is known even here. The channels of grace, which do not use advertising, are indeed mysterious.

The 81 of the Sri Lankan Comunita` dei figli di Dio

A part of the group of Sri Lankan Aspirants with their children, Sr Anusha in their midst.

I found people to be deeply interested in the project of the Comunita`. The unity of the Family in its four branches represents a novelty that appeals greatly. There are some religious orders (though not many), some movements for the laity (much less than in Italy), other than the parish, and thus our proposal caused much interest. The use of the breviary is totally unknown, as it doesn't even exist in Sinhalese, the language spoken by all, but only in English, for the priests. I announced to our Aspirants that we will translate the Psalter into Sinhalese and thus they can pray the liturgical prayer of the Church. In fact, the Sri-Lankan Sisters in Argenta have already translated the first two weeks of the Psalter, and when they have finished the work we will print the booklets for the four weeks and begin to ask our Aspirants to begin to pray with these. The bishop Malcom Ranjit, when I told him this, said he was delighted, and if we succeed, he will say our little Comunita` has given the Breviary to the people of God in Sri Lanka. Isn't this fine! I want to speak of all the Aspirants, and present them to you one by one, but this is impossible. Each one has a story, but it would take an entire Notiziario to present them. Gradually you will come to know them, above all those who come to be Consecrated, thus fully becoming our brothers and sisters of the Comunita`. There are a total of 81 Aspirants, of which 27 entered last September, 49 entering altogether at the last Mass of my visit, and there are three or four who ought to have become Aspirants then but who could not be present that day, and who entered through Sr Anusha after my departure. Above all I am very pleased because this group is representative: there are men and women in equal numbers (perhaps slightly more men even), there are several married couples (at least fifteen couples, all with several children), there are widows and single persons; there are people of comfortable means and poor persons. The one thing I have not been able to find - and which we already have in Australia - is the presence and help of a local priest; but we hope that our Aspirants themselves will find some friendly priest, for their monthly retreat. There are seven group Assistants. There are seven groups divided according to geographical zones. When they all gather together they will have unity with the Italian Comunita` because they have their sons and their sisters here; in the group in fact are Romesh's mother and Chaminda's father (Romesh and Chaminda being at Sasso), Sr Anusha's mother and brother, Palika's father and mother, Sr Nishanti's mother and sister, Sr Dammika's sisters and brothers (these Sisters being at Argenta). Becoming part of the Comunita` they feel themselves more united to their sons or brothers or sisters who are in Italy. They have not yet chosen the names of their patron saints. The Aspirants work together like Consecrated persons, with the four meetings each month and the gathering and retreat, and they will receive from Italy the translations of the most important parts of the Notiziario and other writings of padre's (Vademecum and Circulars). We have already created an archive in Anura Perera's house, and will even constitute a treasury for the Comunita`'s expenses. The first expense will be the acquisition of a fax for the communications with Italy. Thus all the parts are in place so that we can start off. The Lord and all the Saints help us! Padre has said that to have the Comunita` in Asia is a blessing for all of us, and for him in particular a great consolation. From his youth in fact he often thought of going to Asia (India or Japan), and now at 85 he sees children coming to him from that continent.

The Last Day

Just at the end of my visit, I found myself in the midst of the Monsoon rains. I have never seen such a spectacle: it began to rain in the late afternoon, it continued all night, slowing everything down. It wasn't so much that it rained hard (I have never seen such violent rain), as the density of the water: it seemed as if an enormous tap were opened above the city, as if an invisible gardner were watering the city from the sky. I saw the streets turned into rivers. It was daring even to put one's nose outside the house (partly because the water was cascading off the roof), but we had to do it, given that we were in someone else's house; once in the car, one had to hold on tight, because the car in the street was more a boat on a river, not being able to speak for fear - for thunder and lightning - every thirty seconds splitting the air. Even the Sri-Lankans said they had not seen its like in thirty years. And while I began to be afraid that the island would disappear under water, Sr Anusha was speaking of my presence as like that of Jonah on the ship, and of the need to throw me overboard to calm the storm. Even I was a little convinced of this. We then thought it better to pray that the rain cease so we could have the final Mass. In the preceding days I had invited so many people to this final Mass, including the entering Aspirants, not expecting more than twenty. The cloudburst of the last night made it impossible to navigate the streets, when, behold, the sun, in answer to our prayer, came out and dried the streets. And thus at the Mass there were so many people that the rector of the sanctuary himself marvelled. So many babbling babies, the sacristy ready, the photocopies of the Aspirancy ritual in Senagalese, the offertory with all the gifts of the earth, each thing was done with great solemnity and in a climate of intimate joy. But I delighted especially, and secretly, at finding myself in Asia, exactly fifty years after padre himself was going to set foot here (he could not because just before his departure World War II broke out and the frontier was closed), and without my having done anything in particular, I found myself before so many people who were ready to take on the life outlined by him at that time. I felt myself a poor useless instrument of God, but even a poor useless instrument of padre and this poverty made me leap with joy. At the moment of Aspirancy I called before the altar those who had decided to enter and found before me 49. Sr Annusha, to whom I gave the task of presiding at the Aspirancy in Sinhalese, from emotion, began to read the formula of Consecration. I don't know how, but if I had not stopped it in time, we would have gone to the end of the Consecration and even to the Vows! And the Lord, who knows how to speak all languages well, in that moment would have watched us smiling. At the end I blessed all the babies, who were smothering me. And then, after the Mass, a little celebration together. Samantha had prepared a cake with 'Cerco Dio Solo' 'I Seek God Only', while others brought other provisions. And thus was born the CFD in Sri-Lanka. 'We will try to make a good Comunita` here in Sri Lanka'. Those were Anura Perera's last words, in the name of all, to me, while I was disappearing into Customs at the Airport. Not 'Ciao' or 'By', but these words of the Comunity's task. I believe they will do it, because they certainly do not lack dedication or enthusiasm. But our collaboration is needed; that they feel sustained and helped by our prayer! I ask this of all of us, and that the Lord bless this meeing with the Eastern world, its development according to his will and to his glory. Amen. Alleluia.

Padre Serafino

This June Notiziario in Italian contains two letters, by Adrian and by Julia, about the Australian vist which have already appeared in the May Notiziario in its English version.

The translation of padre's book, Hear, O My Son, is in progress. We can serialize it, chapter by chapter, month by month, in the Notiziario. Our Madonna del Sasso Prayer Group twice a month reads from this book and discusses it in lectio divina. Soon the Comunita` in Italy will be making a pilgrimage to all the places sacred to St Benedict, founder of western monasticism. Padre has based the Comunita`'s formation upon that of St Benedict for his monks and nuns, in our case Benedictinism lived in the world, not just the cloister. You might try to find the books of Anglican Ester de Waal, in your bookstores, for she too has written on the need to practice Benedictinism amongst lay people. But padre's perceptions are far deeper than hers, coming from that very life of contemplation and formation itself, sharing this with us. In monasticism, especially Benedictinism, the Abbot is Christ, the Father Founder shadowing God the Father, blessed by God, giving the Law, the Rule. A monastery, even when living in the lay world, is a school for prayer, and about listening to God . . .

HEAR, O MY SON . . .

ASCOLTA, O FIGLIO . . .

A Spiritual Commentary to the Prologue of St Benedict's Rule

Preface

This is not a commentary to a text, but rather meditations provoked by reading it. It always seems to me that the themes that I have seen in the Prologue to St Benedict's Rule are really the fundamental themes of monastic spirituality. It is traditional in the history of spirituality to meditate upon a text, and not to desire to comment or analyze, but rather to pour it out as prayer. The text suggests a theme that the mind then develops freely, asking only that one be obedient with simplicity to the ideas that rise up in certain expressions in one's inmost being. Though it would have been easy many times to refer to other texts even of the same Rule to add value to the teaching, I preferred the flow of a discourse that without any systemization could humbly bring about interior prayer. The book that results therefore has no scientific pretense. It is a word from the heart and desires to speak to the heart: cor ad cor loquitur.

The expressions in the Rule's Prologue desiring to define spiritual life are many and different, but all hold this in common: the sense of a relationship. Spiritual life is a school, and the relationship is between the disciple and the master: it is a family, and the relationship is of a son and a father; it is a war, and the relationship is that of a soldier obeying his general; it is work, and now the relationship is that of the worker with the one in charge. But always spiritual life is a relationship.

Spiritual life is thus essentially a relationship. If you are closed up within yourself, and refuse love, virtue is worthless; the greatness of virtue measures, thus, the depth itself of your perversion, telling of your distance from God.

This is why St Benedict first of all insists upon this teaching. To live is precisely to establish a relation with God, and to deepen this each day, each day making Him more intimate and living.

The relation of a soul with the Lord is thus to be made more intimate through the progress of prayer and the exercise of obedience. Each relationship with things, with those who determine our human lives, should enkindle in a relation with God in such a way that all our action should be an act of obedience to the Father's will. So in eating or drinking (as St Paul said) we should not be drawn from our relation with the Father, but would live in humble obedience our relation to Him and make all our life the fulfilling of his will.

But we ought to see this relation more deeply if it is so fundamental, we ought to see how this relation is established and how it ought to become each day more intimate and living. We will see this if we analyze what St Benedict tells us in the Prologue.

Our pilgrimage to the Lord begins with the Vocation. The soul enters in relation with One who calls it. And God can thus establish the relation, it is His initiative and is manifested in a call that we ought to hear, to which we must respond.

Religious life of itself begins with these words, 'Ausculta o filii', 'Listen, O my son'. It is in listening that we become sons and daughters, accepting the Word, becoming ourselves this same word.

The soul must not refuse this relation that God established with it, it must open itself to accept the word, being attentive to it.

He speaks, but we cannot hear him; God begins this relation of love, but we can refuse the relationship even at the start by refusing to listen.

We ought to live constantly in a state of interior compliance, in humble and pure waiting. Each day we ought to respond to the Lord the words which the young Samuel said one day, 'Speak Lord, your servant is listening'.

The relation is established through words. And it is in words that God communicates with us. A communion with God is a listening to the word and is in responding to Him. This relation is first of all a school, but a school that is a communication of life. The disciple is called immediately, 'son', 'daughter'.

The teaching which the Lord gives is truly a teaching of life itself; we who listen to him become his son, his daughter.

The spiritual fathering is carried out through a mastery. God is the Father in the revelation that he makes to us of himself with his Son, in the gift of his Son who is the Word. Also St Paul has formulated this through the Gospel in Corinthians (1 Corinthians 4.15).

The fundamental theme of the Benedictine Rule is Fatherhood. The whole monastery depends upon the Abbot, and the Abbot, the image of Christ, exercises his fatherhood through a mastery, a teaching. The monastery is the 'school of divine servanthood' and the first task of the disciple who would be a son, a daughter, is that of listening to the word of the master, of accepting the word which gives life.

The master is truly a father: he does not in fact give anything other than himself, but he gives himself.

The Word of God is God; if He speaks to us, he gives to us therefore even himself. The master, teaching, does not establish with his pupils a relation of paternity as does God because he does not communicate, at least necessarily, life.

God communicates His word, communicates always himself; establishes always with the disciple a relation of fatherhood and the disciple lives with the Master a filial relation, as his heir, his son, his daughter. It is a school sui generis, the school of God; it teaches life, the disciple takes in the one who teaches, because he does not receive a teaching different than him; thus the perfect disciple is like the master, as Jesus said in Luke's Gospel.

'Admonitionem pii patris libenter et efficaciter excipe': it is truly from the beginning a filial disposition of love which ought to distinguish us who enter in relation with God. You cannot live a relation with God from the beginning, but as a relation as his son, his daughter. To be father and to be son, to be daughter, one cannot say is anything but to live a communion of love. If he is Father, he cannot give you anything other than himself; if you are his son, his daughter, it is not enought to listen, you ought to abandon your self to him in a loving and free obedience.

Our reply is as the Incarnation of the Word. Our reply is the same word of God, become its fulfillment. A law that is fulfilled, a prophecy that is realized.

Spiritual life there is not ethics, being purely supernatural, it is not even wisdom: it is first of all a relationship. We know what a thing divine life is; each divine Person in God is relatio et subsistens, a pure relation of love: nothing else. The Father is only the Father, the Son is only the Son; the Father is all for the Son and in the Son, the Son is all for the Father and in the Father. Each divine Person is this total ordering of itself in the other related Person.

Now Christian spiritual life is truly participation in divine life. Inasmuch it is participation to the relation of the Son we are sons and daughters in the Son.

There is no word that is greater in all the Rule, because there is no word that is greater in all the Gospel.

The Prologue opens, 'Ausculta, o filii', 'Listen, O my son, my daughter'. And you are son, are daughter; we cannot live our relation with God if we are not His Son. From that of the Trinity God is cause of being, is the Prime Mover, but from that of the Trinity, God does not reveal His mystery, He does not enter into relation with things: He lives, says Pseudo-Dionsius, in an infinite, eternal solitude; He transcends his making of all creation, which thus has no possibility of ever entering into a personal relation with Him. God himself does not enter into relation with things; God does not know us but in himself, and it is even in himself only that he loves us; he does not leave himself. If therefore we can live in relation with God, it is because of divine grace that in some way introduces us into the bosom itself of the Trinity and makes us participate in that relationship that constitutes the divine Persons.

We are sons and daughters of the Son through contemplating eternally the face of the Father. It is this which we say at the end of the Canon of the Mass: 'Praeceptis salutaribus moniti et divina institutione formati audemus dicere . . .' We can say, and we can dare to say: 'Our Father, who art in Heaven' because in some way that enforces us and gives us the power to pronounce these words, Jesus' command, of whom we are his members. We are one with him; for this we live his very life, a purest act of love to the heavenly Father.

Spiritual life in St Benedict is first of all expressed, is manifested, as a relation. This, so to say, is all in Christian life: whether the virtues are the expression of this relation, or whether otherwise we maintain ourselves in the Trinity's mystery. A person can be obedient and believe in nothing; a person can be chaste and have no relation with God. It is the theological virtues which make the Christian and establish and realize this personal relation of the soul with God. I live if I live in love, I live if I contemplate the Father; I live the Christian life, if I enter into a personal relation with a 'You', a 'Thou'. As the Son is none other than the personal relation of love with his Father, so is the Christian. Inasmuch as we are Christians, in so much we live our spiritual vocation and, even more, inasmuch as we live our monastic vocation, inasmuch as we are this pure relation: 'I and Thou, and You'. If God is absent from our life not only are we not monks or nuns, we are not even Christians, even if we have all the virtues. And this relation of the soul with him which defines the Christian, because being Christian is being in Christ, a being that is in the Son, a being in him who is pure act, an eternal, infinite act of love, born of the Father, eternally returning to the Father.

Spiritual life outside of Christianity, can know the beauty even of the highest spiritual experience; one thinks of the mysticism of Plotinus, of Hindu mysticism: but this absorbing into the One would make even us Christians dizzy if we even thought about it a little. It doesn't make us paragons: what distinguishes Christianity is prayer: the child who says a little word to God lives already on a plane infinitely higher than that of the mystic, lives an absorption into unity, the experience of the spirit: because the one praying enters into relation with him who transcends, not only the physical world, not only the visible world, but even the invisible and the spiritual world. In fact each prayer implies an ascension, suggests our participation in Christ's ascension: in our prayer we rise above all and from all to join at least the heart of God.

Life is first of all relationship.

The Prologue begins this way: 'Listen, O my son, my daughter'. God is a Person with whom you can desire to be or not to be with in a relation; but you ought to will it and you ought to live this relation ever more intensely, in such a way that all your life, within certain limits, becomes one sole prayer, one sole aspiration to God, one sole desire that impels you to him, one sole aspiration that carries you incessantly to him, so that you can pour yourself into His Light for ever. 'LISTEN, O MY SON, MY DAUGHTER'.

The theme of relationship is bound up in the theme of the word: Listen. It would say there is someone who speaks to you. Spiritual life is a relation which is established between two persons; and the relationship between these two persons is practically realized in the word: it is in the Word that God communicates to me, it is in the word that I communicate myself to him.

But what is the Word? At the extreme limit it is the Word himself of God, because what can God do , in speaking to me, but give me his Son? And what can I do, in speaking to God, if I do not carry the only begotten Son to the Father? The Christian's highest prayer is precisely this, carrying to God his Son. Remember what St John of the Cross said in The Living Flame of Love, 'The soul will never be content, nor God ever satisfied with the soul, unless the soul carries God to God, in God'. God can never be content with only himself. Thus God can never be content unless we carry to him his Son. This giving and recieving is lived not only in the mystic soul, but in all the Church, and is lived precisely in the highest action of its life, the Mass. The memory is thus underlined and given and explained: 'Offerimus praeclarae Maiestatis tuae de tuis donis ac datis' (and the gift to the Father is the Son) 'hostiam puram', The Father gives us the Son, and we should give to the Father the Son; and raise him in our poor hands even to him.

But inasmuch as God communicates to us his Word so is the soul's interior disposition required. Genesis says that God spoke and everything was made: this language is anthropomorphic. How can God speak when there was none to listen? It treats of Creation. God does not speak to nothing, but he speaks to us, because we have ears that can listen: 'Qui habet aures audiendi, audiat, quid Spiritus dicat Ecclesiae', we read towards the middle of the Prologue. These words are from the Apocalypse, 'Who has ears to hear, hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church'. Thus we have ears to listen to God. These require this relation of love between ourselves and God, this particular disposition of attentiveness, to receive what can be accepted of the Word of God, to be able to hear God, to receive him in us.

This requires attention to a Word.

Who listens is 'son, daughter', who speaks, according to the Prologue, is 'master'. The relation of the son, the daughter, does not exhaust the relation of the soul towards God. The only begotten Son before the Father is not a disciple and the Father before the only begotten Son is not a master, but when we speak of humankind, of divine paternity and of human filiation, we give a continuing progression in intimacy. The relation thus can always become closer, deeper. St Irenaeus already taught this in Adversus haereses, God has always taught us and we can always to learn from God. To be sons and daughters: we are not that ever sufficiently. Baptism makes us Sons and Daughters of God, while our Lord in the Sermon on the Mount told us 'ut sitis filii Patris' 'Be your Father's sons and daughters'. Are we not sons and daughters? We ought to become this even more, because we can never transform ourselves into the Son of God. If we can never transform ourselves, but we ought equally tend to Him, what an immense journey unless it open to the soul this divine intimity! God is the Master. We ought to learn to be always his sons, his daughters, because he himself teaches us the way to reach him. Divine Fatherhood towards us is given in a schooling.

Spiritual life is seen thus as teaching. This theme will be found even at the end of the Prologue, 'Constituenda est ergo nobis schola dominici servitii'. The monastery is 'a school' to which we go every day|: The Master is himself and we, his disciples. And this is what distinguishes, according to St John's Gospel, Christian life, after Jesus gave his Spirity, 'et erunt omnes docibiles Dei', 'and all were taught by God'. An interior Master who gently informs us, teaches us, accompanies and guides us, who raises us ever more closely to himself.

How great is the richness of this language! In the reading of the Rule we ought not to do so hurriedly, because even if the Rule is not inspired, it is nevertheless a word which has nourished innumerable generations of souls, so dense is it with teaching and with life.

'Et inclina aurem cordis tui', 'aurem cordis', the attention of the disciple is a loving attention. One only learns inasmuch as one loves. And the teaching requires the fact that there is profit: the disciples ought to learn.

Another great theme in the Prologue is that of the fulfillment of a word. The word is always read through the soul, read so that the soul ought to fulfill it, 'et efficaciter comple'. The fulfilling of a divine will naturally comes about from obedience, and it is this theme with which the first part of the Prologue concludes, 'so that you can return through obedience to him from whom through the negligence of disobedience you became distant'. The requirement of obedience was never before so affirmed as St Benedict affirmed it in his Rule, making of it truly the base and fulcrum of all religious life, of all Christian life. But Christian life supposes sin, obedience therefore is a return. St Augustine in the Confessions teaches that we through sin are as if exiled into the region of false appearances, 'in regione dissimilitudines', thus the journey of the spiritual soul is a return to Paradise to be newly created in the image and likeness of God. All our life is a return and that return requires a journey. In St Benedict it will not be a simple journey, but a race. How many times we return in the Prologue to this term of a race! St Benedict does not want lazy souls, he wants fervent souls, souls that won't hesitate too long about where to place their feet; not touching the earth, they would fly!

We need to run to reach God: the distance which separates us from him is infinite, and only in a leap can we overcome it. If we go only on foot, we will always remain at the beginning.

I have touched on the themes of the Prologue very briefly; now I want to recall the first, relationship.

We ought to note that the spiritual life is first of all and above all a relation of love. If God ceases to be the 'You' to whom the soul turns, all life crumbles, is lessened. We are so made that we feel we are only alive if we live for someone, if we live for something. Who does not live the religious life can have the illusion that life has a certain meaning if one works for someone, if one loves someone. Outside of the religious life one can very well create for oneself the illusion that one's life is worth the pain of being lived; in reality outside of religious life there are never enough relationships, living being a mutliplying of these relationships endlessly. Whatever relation we have with a creature, it is not enough to exhaust the infinite possibility of love that is in our heart. He who is a son before his parents is not only a son; he needs also independence in his life, and ought to live also for some other creature. Thus the husband cannot live only for the wife; he lives his party, he lives his profession, he lives his art. He needs to live in relation to many creatures because it is not sufficient to live for one alone; but God can truly consume all our life, not only now, but for all our eternity. God on the other hand consumes the life itself of God: the Son only has the Father, the Father has no one but the Son. If God is enough to God, why are we not enough for each other? We ought to note that as much as we respond to our vocation so much does God become the all of the soul, become the One whom the soul knows, the One whom the soul loves. All our life until its end ought not to be other than a unique aspiration to God. Desire, hope, love; all impels us in one direction alone, on one journey: towards God's face. We ought to feel this because this is essential to all Christian life. You are not made other than to live the Christian Vocation until its final consequence: there is no difference between the active life and the contemplative life. There do not exist separately an active life and a contemplative life: what exists is the Christian life, which is consumed in the contemplation of God. What does the Fourth Gospel say about the only begotten Son? 'In principio erat Verbum et Verbum erat apud Deum . . .' This 'apud Deum', in Greek, 'pros ton Theon' would be to say, 'before God, in God's presence, in the face of God': all the life of the Son is a turning to the Father, for love of the Father, none other. This ought also to be so for us, for every Christian, but for us it ought to be more so than for others, not because the others are not called to live this same life, but because we wish to anticipate in the present life the future life. The other Christians wait only for tomorrow, after death, to live in the face of God. We have chosen to live today before the Face of God, because already today we desire to live in Paradise. Why wait for tomorrow, when now Paradise is already opened? Why want to wait for tomorrow is we are in sight of the Father?

Christian life is in relationship. Augustine is right: the one difficulty, the only real impediment to Christian life, is egoism, selfishness, that self love that makes us revere ourselves. If you revere yourself, you no longer live a relation of love towards him. Habitual egoism can be a hindrance, a danger even greater than sin. Sin remains sin, but the consequences of a sin at times is not so grace as are the consequences of a habitual attachment of the soul to revering itself. This soul bowed down to the self, as St Augustine said, is hindered from turning to God, not even seeing the sky.

'Our Father who art in Heaven' we say, but if one is bowed one cannot turn to God, one cannot look up, one cannot any longer see his Face; one has lost the contact, has broken the relationship. What does such a one live? Only in one's misery, not living except to die.

Let us free ourselves of ourselves, not living any longer for ourselves, but for God: this is the first requirement of Christian life, a continual freedom from ourselves. This is needful: for the soul to only exist for the divine 'You'. God alone! But how can the soul live this relationship? As with a personal relation with God, if one can also remove particular sentiments, but not that of the sense of relationship, based on the word that God turns to me. It is in fact the Word of God that alone can begin the relationship. If God does not first speak, you can not speak to him. Your word cannot be but a reply to his. But if he always speaks to you and you listen to his word, how can you live the relation with God, except with responding to him? Thus to Christian life prayer is essential. A great master of spirituality in France, P. de Condren, said, 'as essential as our breathing, so is prayer essential to the Christian'. Prayer is like the breathing of the soul; without prayer the Christian dies.

Holiness is measured precisely through the journeying in prayer. In fact St Teresa of Avila described the journey of the soul to God as a road of prayer. The Journey to Perfection is translated quite naturally as a journey of prayer.

Prayer is essential, it is the form itself of life for us, if to be Christian would be to say to live a relation with God. Now when we do not live a relation, we risk even compromising our advancement in the divine life. Nothing can compromise our progress more in the interior life than infidelity to prayer. One cannot ever be faithful to prayer and continue in our sins, in our voluntary negligences, in our more or less deliberate venial sins.

To live a relationship: and always before speaking of our living a relationship, it is required that we see, that we recognize that this relationship cannot be established by us. Let it be first said: we cannot speak without listening. From this comes the importance of being recollected because our prayer ceases to be such and is purely formal if we lose that minimum of recollection that permits the soul to hear God. Our prayer is a reply. Woe to the one who lacks the minimum of interior recollection: this recollection is the condition of true prayer. How many souls there are who believe they pray and yet never pray! They are only absorbed in speaking themselves.Their word is not to anyone, it is only a speech to themselves; in fact while they say such prayers they but go knowingly or not into fantasies, imaginings, thoughts, worries, memories: God is not absolutely present. That must not be for us! We ought to live our prayer, paying heed to the need for recollection: 'Ascolta', ' Listen', is the first word of the Prologue.

But what is it to say to listen? What is it that is heard?

Don Divo Barsotti, Ascolta O Figlio . . . : Commento spirituale al prologo della Regola di S. Benedetto/ Listen, O Son . . . : Spiritual Commentary on the Prologue of St Benedict's Rule, Florence; Libraria Editrice Fiorentina, 1965.

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