The editorial staff of Moondo sends best wishes for a speedy recovery to his friend Pippo Corigliano. We await you even more fit, ready to live fully and make known the love of God.
On the eve of a heart surgery I realize some reflections:
The main meeting of my life was with San Josemaría Escrivá. It was like opening a door that leads to intimacy with God. Before, at least this is my impression, I had not understood anything. The testimony of the Father (as we called him) was that the relationship with God is an adventure of love, joy and poetry. His contemplative life was fascinating. It was understood that the relationship with God can seem heavy only if it is distant. Instead, the closer you get to him, the more your heart fills with joy and opens up to others.
The life I would have lived without this light and this heat seems petty. The desire remains to transmit this experience to others and say “do not be influenced by the selfishness preached by the dominant culture. Do not go with money at all costs and with brilliant careers, with what is called "your own realization" ". The real realization is knowing how to love: an art that you never learn definitively. We are all apprentices of love. So I like Naples, Sicily and, in general, the South: there the sterilizing culture of looking after one's own interests only came in a mitigated way. Certainly in those lands there are examples of underworld but good people really are. There you find the sense of hospitality, the value of time spent with friends, the great gestures of generosity. Clearly the problem is not latitude but the ability not to be influenced by the individualistic culture that pushes one to seek one's own interests only.
The original fire of true love is Jesus. Just today I was reflecting on the explosion of the love of God that bursts in the consecrated Host. The Friend who dies to feed himself, as Jesus foretold creating scandal and bewilderment. With a God who lives the painful mysteries and then reaches the glorious, how many things one learns to live in a radiant, poetic way. The saints were poets. They were San Francesco, Santa Caterina da Siena, Santa Teresa ... everyone. And so was St. Josemaría who, at the age of seventy, joked saying "find me an old man of my age who talks to you about love as I do". His homilies are a masterpiece of literature while without literary frills. Recordings of his tertulie with thousands of people they are a show of religious communication: fun and full of content.
All at the end of life, and some before, we must go through the painful mysteries and the prayer of Jesus in the Garden of Olives, but afterwards come the glorious mysteries full of fruitfulness and life.
With this spirit I prepare myself for the intervention and I write these things to thank many people who, instead of exclusively treating their problems, are proving close beyond all expectations.