Tuesday 15th January 2008

The prophet will be crucified by Rome, but Rome will have its heart pierced and will be converted.

 

Lectio Magisterialis of Benedetto XVI in the Sistine Chapel, with his back to the audience: the conciliar rite of the Mass is  è tolerated until its natural depletion.

 

The new liturgical act of Ratzinger sounds like an encouragement to the whole church  to get away from the conciliar liturgy.

On the reactionary right wing a huge own goal slides down, zigzagging.

This is what the Sprit says, and what the Prophet sees.

 

The pious “fragnetana”, one of his friends, perplexed about the christic consecration of the prophet, proposed to the most embarrassed man: if you are right, I will die. If you are wrong, you will die.

After a year the bravest lady died of a cancer.

 

It was terrible to know that certain friends were liars. Knowing it without any proof, far away. The prophet told to himself: am I crazy? May I believe to a state of mind, though  tenacious pressing incoming until the total evidence?

He decided to believe in himself and talked. He broke off that friendship, without giving precise reasons. Soon after the truth came officially towards him.

 

In the small bed of the “Cottolengo” the praying lady saw the Trinity in all Its glory.

The physical sun itself said, in comparison, it was darkness.

 

She was a reactionary (intelligent), but not in herself, only specularly, sociologically.

 

She would never understand the seemingly vulgar language (actually strongly symbolical, vivaciously biblical) of the prophet.

She would never understand the “dantesche” sharpness, typical of the Divine Comedy Hell.

Above all she would never perceive, in the linguistic violence, the violence of an incredible Love.

She was illiterate but mystically great.

 

He preserved in the deepest secret the mystic wonders of God, written diligently in a poor notebook.

 

Although they had not seen each other for years the spatial and intellectual distance could nothing.

The prophet felt her and still feels her much present in his life. For years every epistolary relationship has been interrupted. Can the writing nurture the spiritual experience, always present, of hers (who does not know)?

“Porro unum est necessarium.” Only Love is everything.

 

The silence of spirit agrees with the noise of the heart.

 

Already as a boy he did not feel the desire to go and visit his parents at the cemetery. Or to have a picture of them.

He made them write on the grave of a friend’s father the words of Saint-Exupéry: “the fox told the Little Prince: essential is invisible.”

The fox’s words and the Lamb’s have been the intimate logo of the prophet since always.

 

“Non sibi placuit.” The prophet did not like himself as a prophet.

 

The stigmata, invisible by now, did not enrapture him.

 

His engine was God’s will.

 

He would have loved to live in the desert, far from every sight, either admiring or hating, it does not matter.

 

He went walking in the near little town, where no one could consider him. Driving his car (he could not actually) an autistic, with whom it was difficult to talk. He took advantage to immerse in the praying and adoring silence of the heart.

 

But he still loved life, that abounded on the girls’ laughs and the magic movements of children. He saw it from outside, without any envy, participating to it in a way, despite his heart attack. And above all he adored the Adorable, grateful to taste men and women’s  life, grateful to depart from it with faith and joy.

 

The only torment, but great, to leave a terrible world to children, already born and about to be born.

 

On my heart, this evening, Lord, the trace of an angel.

 

He avoided melancholia. Faith was his blood.

This article is available in Italian too