Every day we perform gestures without noticing we're doing them. The more often we repeat them, the less attention we pay. They've become as ordinary as life itself. Yet we perform them again each day, as if they were always new.
Like drinking a glass of water, for instance.
Nobody has to think twice before pouring a glass of water. Usually it's simple enough. Thank goodness! Because if we faced the same obstacles getting a drink as we sometimes do welcoming our brothers and sisters, we'd often go thirsty. Wouldn't we?
Here are five examples to make the point clear.
After all, there's nothing wrong with smiling while we reflect — or reflecting while we smile, whichever you prefer!
- If I try to fill a glass by holding it anywhere except under the tap, the water goes everywhere but where it should — inside the glass. It's good to be near the source, but better still to be right under it.
To welcome you, brother, I must first meet you. - Even if I place it under the faucet, the glass stays empty if I turn it upside down: water runs down the sides, but not a drop gets in.
How many tears slide down like this, against the armor of my selfishness? How can I welcome you if I'm turned inward on myself? It's never too late to "turn around," to "turn toward" you instead. - And if I'm truly thirsty, I'll make sure not to put a lid on the glass. Otherwise I'll hear droplets drumming like a tambourine, but the noise won't quench my thirst.
Welcoming you, brother, means listening to you — taking your words and your silences seriously. Only inner silence (not to be confused with outer silence, which matters little, especially at Fede e Luce!) will let me hear your voice beneath the thousand noises that drown it out.
How many words, how many silent calls, "understood" absently during the day, come back to mind in the evening, in the silence of prayer? - I won't fill the glass if it's already... full! You see the point, but how often do I miss it anyway!
How can I welcome you, brother, when — rich or poor — I'm so full of myself, clutching my symptoms, wrapped in my prejudices? - Sadness sometimes crushes faces like a press crushes tin cans. Try pouring water into a crushed can...!
A living, true community is built in joy.
Of course, this is only an image (cf. Rom 9:23). Like all images, it has its limits (forgive me if you don't love water!). But beyond the metaphors, each of us might reflect on one of these five points and try to put it into practice in the months ahead — to make sure we're never left with a parched throat.
Next, you can try the game that identifies the five behaviors to avoid.
If you're stuck, turn the page and read the answers.
Solutions
- Indifference
- Selfishness
- Noise
- Wealth
- Indifference
Louis Sankalè, 1977